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Twisted Secrets: A Dark High School Romance (Twisted Pine Academy Book 3)

Page 12

by Kai Juniper

"I didn't know her that well, and I AM upset but I'm not going to sit here crying about it."

  "Did you cry after your mother passed?"

  "Of course I cried," I say like she's crazy. "My mom was my best friend." I pause. "And I watched her die."

  "Tell me about that."

  "I'd rather not. I don't want to relive it."

  "Tell me about the next day. What happened?"

  "Didn't Brock already tell you all this?"

  "He gave me a summary of your background. He didn't go into details. Tell me what happened the day after your mother died."

  "A social worker showed up and told me I had to go into foster care."

  "But Brock intervened before that happened."

  "Yeah. He called the lady and offered to take me in."

  "And how are things now? How do you feel?"

  "Like everything's falling apart. I'm sure Brock told you I'm dating Jackson Novak."

  "He didn't mention it." She scribbles in her book. "So going back to your mother."

  "Wait—don't you want to talk about Jackson? You know what's going on, right?"

  "With the murder investigation? Yes. But I don't feel that's relevant to today's conversation."

  "Seriously? That's all I can think about. My boyfriend might be going to prison. I shouldn't even be here. I should be with Jackson."

  She lowers her glasses to look at me. "It's my professional opinion that your involvement with a boy like Jackson is simply your mind's attempt to create distraction from what your subconscious is trying desperately to avoid dealing with, which is your mother's death."

  "That has nothing to do with it. I'm with Jackson because I love him."

  "A boy you've known for what, a few months?"

  "It doesn't matter how long it's been," I say, getting angry. "I love him. He understands me. He listens to me. He's there for me when I need him."

  "Much like your mother was before she passed. Jackson is simply a replacement for the things you miss most about your mother. Someone who listens to you. Gives you attention. Understands you."

  "Everyone wants someone like that. It's called a friend. It has nothing to do with my mom."

  "The subconscious mind does many things we don't understand or even realize unless someone points it out. You haven't accepted your mother's death so you're trying to replace her."

  "With Jackson? That doesn't even make sense!"

  She points to the piece of paper that has the stages of grief on it. "You're in stage two. Anger. You're angry at your mother for leaving you and forcing you to live in a new state with a new family."

  "That doesn't mean I'm stuck in the anger stage. Any teenager who's forced to leave her school right before senior year and move across the country to live with people who don't even want her is going to be angry."

  She taps her pen on the notebook. "You feel you're not wanted here? Are you referring to Brock?"

  "Brock. Trystan. Braden. They all hate me. They don't want me here. Brock was forced to take me in because—" I look away.

  "Because why?" she says.

  "Because he's family," I say, assuming my deal with Brock to keep my real father a secret applies to therapists as well.

  "That doesn't require him to care for you," Clarice says.

  "Then my dad made him do it. I know don't. The point is, he doesn't want me here. Can we talk about something else now?" I check my phone for the time. Only a few minutes have passed and I already want to leave. I really don't like this lady.

  "Tell me about your mother," she says.

  "She was an artist. She did paintings, sculptures, sketches, but mostly paintings."

  "And this was her full-time job?"

  "Yeah. She sold her paintings in her friend's gallery."

  "What happens to the paintings now? Will they go to you?"

  "I don't know. I guess her friend will keep them."

  "You haven't been contacted by her?"

  "No. Why are you asking? This doesn't seem like a question you'd ask in therapy."

  "I'm trying to assess what connections you still have in New York."

  "Why? I'm not going back there, at least not anytime soon."

  "You haven't been contacted by anyone there?"

  "No," I say, confused by her question. "Who would contact me?"

  She scribbles something in her notepad, then says, "Let's move on. Tell me about school. Brock said you're struggling to make friends."

  "I wasn't until Braden told people to stop talking to me."

  "I get the impression you and Braden don't get along."

  "It's not because of me. Braden has some serious issues. You should tell Brock to bring him back to therapy. He needs this more than I do."

  The session continues with Clarice asking me stuff about school and how I'm adjusting to living here, which is what I expected her to talk about. I don't know why she was asking me all that stuff about my mom and her friends and how she made a living. That was strange.

  When we leave her office, Brock is waiting in the lobby.

  "How'd it go?" he says, smiling.

  I don't answer.

  "She wasn't very talkative today," Clarice says, smiling for the first time since I got here. And she's smiling at Brock, not me. Is he sleeping with her? Is that why he picked her? Does she give him a discount?

  "She's just nervous," Brock says. "I'm sure she'll open up more on Wednesday."

  "Wednesday?" I say. "Like the day after tomorrow?"

  "I have you scheduled for three days a week," Clarice says. "After a few weeks I'll assess your progress and see if we can go down to twice a week."

  There's no way I'm coming here three times a week. I thought it'd be once a week, which was bad enough, but three times? Hell, no.

  "See you on Wednesday," Clarice says as we're leaving.

  "I'm not doing it," I say to Brock as we're driving home. "Three days a week is too much."

  "It's not too much. You've been through a lot. You need someone to talk to. Someone who can help you work through these things."

  "I have Jackson for that. He's the one I talk to."

  "Jackson isn't a trained professional. Clarice is very good. She's trained at the best schools and was at the top of her class."

  "So she's a good student. That doesn't make her a good counselor. I don't like her. Not even a little."

  "Nobody likes their therapist right away. It can takes weeks, or even months, to feel comfortable with the person."

  "I'm never going to feel comfortable with her. She's so serious. And she looks like Morticia."

  "Who's that?"

  "From that show. The Addams Family. You know the lady with the long black hair? She's like her but with short hair."

  Brock chuckles. "How do you even know about that show? You're too young."

  "Mom liked it. It was on TV every afternoon. We'd watch it together."

  "She liked all those old shows." He smiles. "Anything in black and white. Even movies. She had no interest in anything current, even shows I was on."

  I look at him. "Mom watched your shows. I didn't, but she did."

  He glances at me. "What shows of mine did she watch?"

  "All of them. Even ones that really sucked, like that one where you worked with the puppet."

  He shakes his head. "I wish that one had never made it to air. My agent convinced me it'd be huge. I fired him after that."

  "Mom liked it. She thought it was funny."

  "Did she watch your father's shows?"

  "You mean my fake dad?"

  "I still see him as your father. He was for so many years that I still think of him that way." He changes lanes, speeding past a line of traffic.

  "Why'd you do it? Make Devon my dad?"

  "I already told you. I didn't want Miranda finding out."

  "That's it?"

  "You don't seem to understand. It would've destroyed Miranda to find out I was having a child with someone else. She always wanted more children but I
told her we were done after Braden. If she'd known I fathered another child, she would've left me."

  "But I wasn't planned. It's not like you purposely tried to have a kid with my mom."

  He stops at a red light and looks down at his phone.

  "Brock?"

  He looks up as the light turns and continues down the street. "Regardless, it would've upset Miranda and destroyed our marriage."

  "If you only wanted Braden, why'd you have Trystan?"

  "His mother decided that. She stopped taking her birth control and chose not to tell me."

  So Brock never wanted Trystan. Now it makes sense why he gives Braden more attention. And Braden looks like his dad. Trystan looks more like Miranda.

  "When we get home I want you to go in your room and study," Brock says. "I got a note from the school today saying you failed two of your exams."

  "I'm going to see Jackson. I'll study over there."

  "I know what happens when you two are together and it's definitely not studying. I want you to spend the night doing your homework. You can see Jackson tomorrow."

  "I'm seeing him tonight. If you have a problem with that, I'll have a little chat with Roman. Let him know how difficult you are on set."

  "What are you talking about? You've never seen me on set."

  "He doesn't know that. And maybe I overhead it. Maybe your agent mentioned it when he was over, saying that's why you weren't getting jobs."

  Brock's jaw tightens. "You want to ruin my career. Is that your plan?"

  "Only if you try to tell me what to do. And it wouldn't ruin your career. Just your chance at a part in Roman's movie, which you wouldn't even have if it weren't for me."

  "My agent got me the audition. You had nothing to do with it."

  "Jackson did. He got you the audition, not your agent. He asked his dad to consider you for the role you wanted. He knew if you got it you wouldn't try to keep us apart."

  "So your boyfriend is not only a suspected murderer but a master manipulator. And this is the boy you choose to date?"

  "He's not a murderer and he didn't manipulate anyone. He asked his dad for a favor. Isn't that how Hollywood works? You said it's all who you know and who you owe."

  "I don't believe I said that last part."

  "You said something similar. Point is, Jackson got you that audition. And if you don't let me see him, the audition may not happen."

  We're on our street now and Brock pulls into the driveway and parks.

  He turns to me. "I wanted you to have a future."

  "I do. But you don't get to decide what it is."

  "You won't have a future if you flunk out of school."

  "YOU did okay, and you flunked out of college."

  "That was different. I don't need a degree for what I do." He pauses. "Who told you I flunked out?"

  "Devon. It was when he was drunk."

  "You can't call him Devon. You need to pretend he's still your father."

  "For how long?"

  "At least until the boys are older. I'd rather not tell them at all. If it gets back to Miranda, she'll deteriorate even more."

  "Sounds like she's too out of it to even care."

  "She's aware enough to be upset by it. I can't do that to her. The boys have a hard enough time seeing her in her condition. I don't want it getting worse."

  "Then at least tell Braden to leave me alone. He thinks we're not related so he tried to kiss me. Even though he's mad at me, I wouldn't be surprised if he tried to kiss me again."

  Brock's brows draw together. "He doesn't think he's your cousin?"

  "He knows Devon was adopted. He said he overheard you telling someone."

  "Why didn't he tell me he knew?"

  "He said you didn't want us to know. Something about secrets being secrets for a reason." I open the door. "I need to go."

  "If you're going to see Jackson I want you home by ten."

  I smile. "How much do you want that audition?"

  "I want more than an audition. I want the part."

  "I'll see what I can do." I get out of the car.

  "Rumor, wait."

  "What?" I stick my head back in the car.

  "At least bring your books over there."

  "I'm not going to use them, but sure. Bye!" I run into the house and straight to my room.

  I text Jackson. Can I come over?

  Yeah, we just finished.

  Be over soon!

  I'm bursting with excitement knowing I get to see him. I thought about him all day, counting the minutes until we could be together.

  I change out of my uniform and go. I didn't bring my books. There's no way I'm studying with Jackson. Our time together could be limited. I'm not wasting it studying.

  When I get to the house he's staying at, he opens the door and wraps me in his arms, lifting me off the ground.

  "Did you miss me?" I say, laughing.

  "How'd you know?" He sets me down and kisses me, then we go in the house. "I was just watching the news. Seeing if they had any updates on the case."

  "You haven't heard anything?"

  "Not from the lawyers. And the news has only said what I already know."

  We go in the living room where the TV is on.

  "Where's your dad?" I ask as we sit on the couch.

  "He had to go to LA for his movie. It's still in casting but they wanted to meet with him about something. He'll probably be back in the morning."

  "Speaking of that, Brock was—"

  "Wait." He points to the TV. "They're talking about the case."

  There's a photo of Kristen on the screen as the newswoman talks. "Police are releasing new details about the Kristen Reynolds case. As we reported last weekend, Reynolds' body was found early Saturday morning on the beach behind the house owned by Jackson Novak, son of Roman Novak, one of Hollywood's most acclaimed film directors."

  A photo of Jackson and his dad appear behind her.

  "Jackson was arrested at his home Saturday following the discovery of the body. Reynolds' stepfather, Steven Edwards, has accused Jackson of the crime, stating Novak had a tumultuous relationship with his daughter that often turned violent. We're still awaiting autopsy results to confirm cause of death but as of now, police believe she died of asphyxiation before her body was disposed of in the ocean. Police have so far only charged Jackson with the girl's murder but believe a second person may have been involved."

  Jackson's arrest picture appears, along with a picture of me!

  "Why am I—"

  "Shh." Jackson points to the TV as the reporter continues.

  "The marks on the body indicate Reynolds was held down while another person strangled her, although this is not yet confirmed. In his statement Saturday, Steven Edwards named Rumor Halliway, niece of actor Brock Halliway, as a possible accomplice, saying she became physically violent toward the victim after an argument at school. We've been told Ms. Halliway started dating Mr. Novak several weeks ago when he was still seeing Ms. Reynolds. Police have brought Halliway in for questioning but as of yet, she's not been charged. Novak had been out with Halliway the night Reynolds was killed. Novak claims he dropped Halliway off at her house around eleven. Reynolds was believed to have been killed between eleven and twelve. Police are investigating whether Halliway was indeed home at the time or if she was with Novak. Stay tuned as we continue to follow this case in the days ahead. Now on to weather."

  Jackson turns the TV off. "Shit."

  I jump up from the couch. "They think I did it! They think I helped you kill her!"

  Jackson pulls me into his chest. "I'll fix this. I promise."

  "You can't promise me that! It's too late. They think I did it! They're going to charge me with murder!"

  Chapter Fourteen

  "That's not going to happen," Jackson says, holding me. "All that stuff they said was just a theory and any evidence they have is circumstantial."

  "The same is true for you, and they arrested you."

  "Because th
ey had to. It's a public relations move. They want people to think they're safe."

  I push away from him. "Principal Edwards did this. He's the reason we're being accused. If it weren't for him—"

  "They still would've arrested me. She was found on my property. And we HAD been fighting. That wasn't a secret. We even fought when we were dating. We'd go out and she'd start a fight and people would see us."

  "Every couple fights."

  "But it's different when one of them shows up dead. Then people remember the fight differently. It was louder. More violent. It wasn't just a normal fight."

  "Is that what people are saying about you and Kristen?"

  "From what I've heard, yeah."

  My phone rings. I hold it up. "It's Brock."

  "Answer it. He probably saw the news."

  "Hey, Brock."

  "The news just reported—"

  "I know. I saw it. What am I going to do?"

  "I've already called Ms. Wietz. She said not to worry. The police can't charge you based on a hunch. They need actual evidence."

  "They have a statement saying I'm an accomplice."

  "It says you could be, not that you are."

  "I'm not going back to Twisted Pine. I'm done there."

  "You're still going. You just need to avoid Principal Edwards."

  "I can't avoid him. It's a small school and he's always walking the halls."

  "I doubt he'll be there this week. Kristen's funeral is Saturday. He'll need to manage that along with comforting Daphne, Kristen's mother."

  "Are you saying I'm not going to be arrested?"

  "As of now, no. Rumor, I need you to come home. You shouldn't be with Jackson right now."

  I end the call, not wanting to fight about this. I'm not going home. I need to be with Jackson. I need him more than anyone else.

  "What'd he say?" Jackson asks.

  "The lawyer thinks I'm okay for now. She said they can't arrest me with what they have on me. Brock told me to come home so I hung up on him."

  "Maybe you should."

  "Should what?"

  "Go home." He holds both my hands. "I want to be with you but I know the cops are watching us and I don't want them assuming you had something to do with this just because you're with me."

  "They already assume that, and I'm not letting them, or anyone else, keep us apart. If we do that we're letting them win."

 

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