by McKayla Box
I don't disagree with anything Brett's said.
“Okay,” Matt says. “I'll call them now and then go in.”
I want to hand him my phone and have him do it in front of us, but I know he won't.
“Okay,” I say. “And for whatever it's worth, I think you're making a mistake not telling them it was Kane. And if they come to talk to me again? I'm not going to lie. I'm going to tell them exactly what you told us.”
He shrugs. “I can't stop you.”
No.
He really can't.
TWENTY ONE
“You think he'll call them?” I ask.
Brett and I are standing near our cars. Matt's gone back inside his house.
“I don't know,” Brett says. “If we don't hear anything by tonight, I'll come back over. Or we can just call them ourselves.” He shakes his head. “I can't fucking believe he did that.”
“Who?” I ask. “Kane or Matt?”
“Both of them,” he says. “But I meant Matt. How do you fucking lie like that? When it gets somebody arrested?”
I think for a moment. “I think it's what he said. He was pretty scared and he panicked.”
Brett frowns. “Still. That's fucked up.”
It is fucked up. I'm trying not to judge Matt too harshly because I know how scary Kane is, but I'm also having a hard time wrapping my brain around what he did. He created more problems for himself than had to start with. If he'd just thought about what happened and what he was doing, maybe he could've done something else.
I just want it fixed.
“And he's fucking crazy if he doesn't give them Kane's name,” Brett says. “That guy needs to get what's coming to him.”
His arms are folded across his chest and the vein in his temple is throbbing. The anger is just radiating off of his body.
“You can't do anything,” I say.
“I can't?” he says, frowning. “Who fucking says I can't?”
I know he's angry and I know he wants to lash out, but he's not thinking straight.
Just like Matt wasn't thinking straight.
“If you go after Kane, it'll come back on Trevor,” I tell him. “You know that. Even if Trevor isn't involved, it'll come back on him in some way. You're his best friend and if you go after the guy that set him up, people will think he had something to do with it. You can't do that to him.”
He looks away.
“I know you're pissed,” I tell him. “I am, too. But that won't do anything but make it harder for Trevor.”
“So, what?” Brett asks, turning back to me. “He just gets away with it.”
I think for a moment. “Maybe. For now. I don't know. But we have to think about what matters most. For me, that's Trevor. And with all of this other shit hanging over him, he doesn't need anything else. If Matt goes to the police, admits that he lied and they drop the charges, that's one less thing for him to worry about.”
“Still doesn't feel right,” Brett says.
“None of this feels right,” I say. “But at least if Matt admits he lied, that's something that actually will feel right.”
“I guess,” he says. “Okay. I won't do anything.”
“You promise?”
He nods. “I promise. I'm not gonna make it worse.”
“Good,” I say. I pull my keys out. “I'm gonna to go to Trevor's and tell him what we found out.”
“Alright,” he says. “I'm gonna...go break stuff or something.”
I laugh. “As long as it's not Kane's face.”
“I promise,” he says, walking to his truck. “It won't be his face.”
“Brett,” I say.
He stops and turns around.
“Thanks for coming,” I say. “I'm not sure if he would've told me the truth if you weren't here to scare him.”
Brett glances at the house, then back to me. “Trev's my best friend. I'd do anything for him.”
“I know,” I say. “But I just wanted to say thanks.”
He nods, gets into his truck, and waves as he drives off.
I get into my car and sit there for a minute.
I'm exhausted. Everything that's already happened has worn me out. It feels like I've been in a twelve round fight and I've lost.
I'm tired of feeling exhausted.
I want one win.
Just one.
I look at Matt's house.
Maybe we finally got one.
TWENTY TWO
Trevor's dad doesn't look happy to see me.
I drive to their house from Matt Wheeler's and he answers the door.
“Presley,” he says, trying to force a smile, but mostly failing. “I...I didn't know you were coming by.”
“I'm sorry,” I say. “I didn't call Trevor to let him know.”
“We're actually...pretty busy at the moment,” he says. “With Albert and...everything.”
“I know what happened,” I tell him. “And it's going to be corrected.”
“You know what happened?” he asks. “How?”
“Can I come in?” I ask. “I'll explain. I think Mr. Braun will want to hear this, too.”
He purses his lips, then steps aside so I can enter.
Trevor and Mr. Braun are sitting across from one another on the couches. Trevor is leaning back, his hands folded across his stomach. Mr. Braun is leaning forward, papers spread out in front of him on the table, reading glasses on the tip of his nose.
Trevor looks at me. “What are you doing here?”
“I have some good news,” I tell him. “At least, I think it is.”
He raises an eyebrow, but he doesn't look optimistic. “Really?”
“What kind of news?” Mr. Braun asks, peering over his glasses.
“I talked to Matt Wheeler,” I say, looking at Trevor. “And Derek.”
“You talked to Derek?” he asks, frowning. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“Because I wanted to hear what he had to say,” I tell him. “He can barely talk. His jaw's wired shut.”
“Too bad,” Trevor says.
“He didn't see who attacked him,” I say. “He never saw the person.”
Mr. Robinson joins his son on the couch. “And, yet, they felt confident enough to arrest Trevor. I'm not sure how what he saw or didn't see matters here, Presley.”
“They arrested Trevor because Matt told them it was Trevor,” I say.
“He's lying,” Trevor says.
“I know he is,” I say. “He told me he was lying.”
That gets their attention.
“I asked Derek when it happened,” I explain. “He told me it was about one in the morning. I'm not sure if he remembers that or if he was told that, but that's what he told me.”
“I wasn't even there then,” Trevor says.
“I know,” I say. “I told him that. I told him we were gone by then. So he started to listen to me. He told me that Matt told him you were the one that attacked him. That's why I went to talk to him. Brett came with me. He can verify all of this.”
Mr. Robinson leans back in the couch, eyeing me.
“I told him I knew he was lying and he admitted it,” I say. “He did it because he was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?” Trevor says, frowning.
“Kane Tressle,” I say.
Trevor's hands unfold and he leans forward. “What?”
“What is a Kane Tressle?” Mr. Braun asks. “I'm in the dark here.”
“A guy we know,” I say. “A guy who has had it out for Trevor for a long time. And me. It's a long story, but this guy was absolutely trying to make it look like Trevor attacked Derek. He threatened Matt and forced him to tell the police it was Trevor. He was basically scared of Kane.”
“That's absurd,” Mr. Robinson says. “How is that possible?”
“He beat Derek up so bad that Matt thought he might be dead,” I say. “So he was definitely afraid of him physically. And Matt's mom apparently works for Kane's father. I'm not exactly sure of the rel
ationship there, but Kane told him if he didn't name Trevor he'd make sure Matt's mom lost her job.” I look at each of them. “He basically blackmailed him. So Matt went to the police and told them it was Trevor.”
Mr. Robinson and Mr. Braun exchange looks.
Braun looks at me. “I appreciate that we may know the truth, but I'm not sure how this helps Trevor. It's helpful to know there's a time discrepancy and we've put together a few other things that will be problematic for them to prove, but a witness statement is hard to beat.”
“He's going to tell them the truth,” I say. “Or, at least, part of it.”
“Part of it?” Trevor asks.
“He has a conscience,” I say. “I think he really badly about lying. I think he was genuinely scared and he just freaked. We both know Kane's a psycho, right?”
Trevor nods.
“So I believe him when he says he was scared,” I say. “But it was really bothering him. He's going to tell them it wasn't you. I don't know if he's going to name Kane, but he's going to tell them he lied about you.” I pause. “I think Brett scared him a little bit, too.”
Trevor tries to hide a laugh.
“You know this for certain?” Mr. Robinson asks.
A phone chimes and Mr. Braun reaches into his jacket pocket. He pulls the phone and looks at the screen. He stands up. “Excuse me for a moment.”
We all watch him walk out of the room.
“I'm pretty sure,” I tell him. “When we left, he said he would. I believed him.”
Mr. Robinson nods slowly. “Alright. I guess we'll wait and see.”
I look at Trevor. “When I told Derek about us not being there and how you didn't even look like you'd been in a fight, he seemed genuinely confused. I don't think it's an act and I don't think he had anything to do with this. I think it was all Matt. And Kane.”
Trevor nods. “Yeah. Okay.” He shrugs and shakes his head. “Just insane.”
“And this boy is still afraid of Kane?” Mr. Robinson asks.
I nod. “Yeah. Definitely. I really think he was going to try and talk to the police without mentioning Kane. Like maybe that would make Kane less angry with him or something. But I told him that if the police came to talk to me again, I'd tell them what he said about Kane. I told him I wouldn't lie for him. And he knows Brett won't, either.”
He looks at his son. “Seems as if your friends were more confident in your innocence than I was.”
Trevor shrugs again.
His dad turns back to me. “Thank you. For doing all of this and sharing it. I appreciate it.”
I nod.
Mr. Braun comes back into the room. He holds up the phone and looks at Mr. Robinson. “Charges are dropped. The boy recanted his entire statement.” He looks at me. “You were right.”
I smile and look at Trevor.
His father claps him on the shoulder. “Take a breath on this one, Trev. Take a breath.”
Trevor stands up and crosses the room to me. He leans down and kisses me. “Thank you.”
“You don't have to thank me,” I tell him. “It was the truth.”
“You believed in me,” he says. “And you kept me out of trouble. You kept me from making things worse.” He takes my hand and squeezes it. “Thank you.”
“It's not all roses,” Mr. Braun says. “We're still dealing with the charges from Mr. Morgan. Don't forget that.”
Way to put a damper on the mini-celebration, Albert.
“I haven't forgotten,” Trevor says.
“But this certainly doesn't hurt,” Mr. Braun says. “And it might help cast a little doubt on Mr. Morgan's initial charges.” He looks at Mr. Robinson. “It might be worth seeing if we can't get those tossed, as well, given what's happened.”
Mr. Robinson nods. “See what you can do.”
Mr. Braun nods and sits down at the table again, staring at the papers.
“Presley, we owe you,” Mr. Robinson says.
“No, you don't,” I tell him. “I wanted to do this.”
Trevor squeezes my hand again.
“Nonetheless, I think we're in your debt,” Mr. Robinson says. “You managed to do what a bunch of us old men failed to do. I appreciate that and I owe you.”
I look at Trevor, then at his father. “The only thing I want is for you to keep him out of jail. Do that and we're even.”
TWENTY THREE
I stay for a little while longer before I head home. Trevor and I talk about meeting up later. He kisses me again before I leave, thanking me again.
It's the best I've felt in days.
We've finally managed a victory and it feels good.
I know he's not entirely out of the woods, but there's something about this that gives me hope and that's something I don't think I've felt in awhile.
My dad is already home when I get there. He's standing in the kitchen, already changed out of his work clothes.
“I just got a text from Frank Robinson,” he says. “He says you're a hero.”
“Hardly.”
“What happened, Presley?”
I explain to him the entire day from start to finish.
“Wow,” he says when I finish. “That's pretty incredible.”
I collapse on the couch. “Yeah. And I'm exhausted now.”
He comes and sits down next to me. “Understandably so. And I think Frank is right. You are a hero.”
“Please.”
“I'm serious,” he says. “You believed what Trevor told you and you dug in. You found the truth. That's not a small thing.”
“It doesn't fix everything,” I say.
“No, it doesn't,” he says. “But it's something. And Frank is tough to impress, but you managed to do that.”
“I wasn't trying to impress him.”
“You really need to work on learning to take a compliment,” he says.
I laugh. “Okay.”
He pats my leg. “Maybe this means you're cut out for law school. Like your dear old dad.”
“Can I just get through college first?” I ask.
“Sure,” he says. “Just something to think about.”
“I'm too tired to think about anything right now,” I say. “Are you mentally exhausted at the end of the day? Is that what it's like being a lawyer?”
“Sometimes,” he says. “And there's also a fair amount of excitement when you manage to help out a client. They balance themselves out.”
I close my eyes. “So why am I wiped out then? I helped out my client. Shouldn't I be out celebrating? Jumping around?”
He chuckles. “This was your first go-round. Maybe you need to build up some endurance.”
“Uh huh.”
“Pres,” he says. “Listen to me for a second.”
I force my eyes open.
“This Kane Tressle,” he says. “I know you've tangled with him before, but this feels...different.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“Do you?” he says. “Anyone who would attempt to blackmail someone else the way he did is...problematic. When you add in the beating he gave to Derek, it moves from problematic to...I don't know what. But it's not good.”
“Psychopath,” I say. “He's a psychopath.”
“That's one word for it,” he says. “Yes. But my point is you need to stay out of his orbit. You understand?”
“I have no plans to go near him,” I say. “Ever.”
“I mean it,” he says. “But if he learns you were involved in this? He sounds like the type who's going to be angry and he's going to seek you out.”
“I know,” I say, closing my eyes again.
“So I need you to just...be aware,” he says. “If he comes near you, I want to know. You call me. I'll come, no matter what.”
“Okay,” I mumble. “I will.”
“Pres? You hear me?”
I do, but I don't respond because I'm already drifting off to sleep.
TWENTY FOUR
I wake up, confused.
It's the next
morning and I'm on the couch. There's a blanket on top of me and sun is shining through the windows. I blink several times, trying to clear the sleep from my eyes, and sit up. My back and legs are stiff and I realize I was sleeping in the same position I fell asleep in when I was talking to my dad. I literally didn't move all night.
I see a note on the coffee table and reach for it.
“Let you sleep on the couch because I didn't want to wake you up. Had to get into the office this morning. Text me when you're awake so I know you're alive. Dad.”
I grab my phone off the table. The screen is littered with notifications. It's a little before nine in the morning and I've somehow managed to sleep for a little over twelve hours.
I shake my head and text my dad to tell him I'm awake. He texts back right away, thanking me for texting me, and letting me know there's french toast in the freezer. I walk into the kitchen, scrolling through my phone. I find the french toast and pop it into the toaster, clearing the notifications on the phone and returning texts. All of the girls texted me. Trevor texted. Brett texted. Jake didn't, but he barely knew how to use his own phone. The girls all wanted the details and Trevor was asking about meeting up. Brett was just checking to make sure I was okay.
I'd slept through all of them.
I text Trevor and apologize. He responds immediately telling me it was fine and that he'd texted my dad to make sure I was okay. We make plans to see each other later.
I text Brett and tell him all is good. He responds and tells me he heard all about everything from Trevor.
I text Bridget and she responds immediately, telling me she's on her way over.
I laugh, gobble down the french toast, change my clothes and brush out my rat's nest-like hair. She's laying on the horn five minutes later.
When I get outside, it's actually Maddie's car in the driveway and Gina is hanging out of the passenger window.
“Score one for the bitches!” she yells.
I laugh and realize how fast word travels in Sunset Beach.
I get in and they want all of the details as Maddie backs out of the driveway. I tell them everything, even though they clearly know nearly all of it by now. Everyone apparently knows everything.
“I wish I could've seen Derek sipping from a straw,” Gina says when I'm done. “That's just fucking karma right there.”
