Getting into the song I began to sing the chorus as Lucy stops mixing and stares at me.
“Oh my God,” she says. “I had no idea that you could sing!” she exclaims. Dropping the spoon on the counter to set her hands on her hips.
“I’m okay,” I chuckle with a shrug, continuing to slice bananas.
“No, really. You are amazing,” she urges and steps closer sliding her hands around my waist. “It’s really surprising, because I don’t know if you know this, but Charlie is a horrible singer. I mean like, really and truly, terribly tone-deaf. I went with her to a Taylor Swift concert once, and oh my god, my ears were bleeding by the end of the last song,” she laughs before turning back to the mixing bowl.
“Wait a moment, when did you guys go to a Taylor Swift concert?” I frown at her. Charlie isn’t very old, so I’m certain that I am familiar with all the concerts and nighttime activities she’s partaken in.
“Oh,” she says looking back at me. “Sorry, yeah. Do you remember that summer when we all went to Vacation Bible School even though none of us are religious?” she says rolling her eyes at me.
“Yes,” I grit out, my voice firm switching into father mode.
“Well, we snuck out one night,” she shrugs continuing to mix the batter. “Instead of singing Kumbaya around the campfire we belted out teardrops on my guitar,” she sings closing her eyes. “It’s an oldie but a goodie if there ever was one.”
“Oh my God,” I say shaking my head. “I don’t know if I’m prepared to hear all of the Charlie lying to her dad stories yet,” I tell her shaking my head, fully certain that there are many stories that Lucy could tell me but I never want to hear.
“Oh believe me,” she laughs, “there are certain things you don’t want to know but don’t worry I will keep those to myself. Besides Taylor Swift is so tame We were exposed to more controversial things at Vacation Bible School,” she says sliding the mixing bowl over to me so I can add the slices of banana.
Closing my eyes and telling myself I’m grateful for what little information I have, I continue singing Jack Johnson next to the tone-deaf love of my life. She’s not a bad cook I notice as she samples the batter and begins to flip the banana pancakes. I run my hand up and down her back.
“Hey, I am going to go upstairs and get dressed. There’s are a couple more things I have to do down at the office today. But I will try to get back early-ish tonight,” I say with a smile.
“Early-ish?” she asks laughing and raising her brows.
“Yes,” I nod. “I can’t make any promises, but I will do my best. Cop life.” I shrug before turning away from her and walking upstairs to change into the clothes that aren’t on her body.
Singing to herself she turns back to the pancake batter as I walk back to the bedroom. I know she doesn’t want me to go, and I don’t want to go either. I just wish all this was over so that I can be here with her more often. I know we will have such a happy life together. We just have to get to the point where I can be here more.
Rounding the corner and bending down to pick up my jeans I freeze.
What is that?
I see something black and oddly familiar under her bed. Reaching under the bed, I pull out a black hoodie. Suddenly I feel cold and my heart starts pounding in my ears.
Surely this can’t be what I think it is.
No. It’s impossible. My Lucy would never do such a thing. I look behind me and listen to the woman trying to sing along with Jack Johnson. No, it can’t be, I don’t want to believe it.
Holding the sweatshirt up to the light I inspect it closer. There are obvious sweat lines indicating that the individual who wore this ran quickly, hard, and fast. Closing my eyes, I recall last night. The woman did run fast, and honestly Lucy can run like a fucking cheetah. She led the school to all state champions four years in a row. If it wasn’t Lucy, I don’t know who else it could possibly be. The girl set fucking records.
Closing my eyes and falling hard I remind myself that this is simply circumstantial evidence. It’s possible she went for a run and simply tossed the jacket under the bed. Everyone knows that about Lucy. I see her running all the time in the mornings and she waves at me in my cruiser.
Walking over to the bed and laying down the sweatshirt I inspect it further. There’s dust and gravel, the same color as the gray dust that picks up in the warehouse. Of course, it’s something I could have the lab look at to run a comparison analysis, but to what end? Do I really want to arrest my girlfriend for drug trafficking or dealing?
I cringe as the thought in my heart sinks in. She’s just like her father. No. I don’t want to believe that. I can’t believe that. Swallowing hard I rise, slide on my jeans, pull my white T-shirt over my head and resolve myself. I need to remain objective. If I can’t remain objective, I will be forced to turn the keys over to someone else who will not be as lenient with her or with her low life of a father.
Yes, the best thing for all of us is for me to remain calm and to separate myself from the emotional situation. It will be harder than it sounds simply because we took such a huge step forward today. I love her. I’m hopelessly, desperately in love with a little brunette dynamo. How could she do this? Why would she do this? She knows how I feel about this. She knows the implications. She watched her father go to prison and knows that he only got off because of the mayor.
Closing my eyes and shaking my head, I try to steady my cell phone. The more emotional I am, the harder it will be. Maybe I should try to talk to her. There could be more to this right?
Lucy
* * *
I wonder where Kenton is. Reaching down and pulling out a fork and placing the banana pancakes and bacon carefully on the table. I’m so happy, I can’t believe that we have spent the night together for the first time and that he told me what every girl wants to hear.
I love you.
It isn’t something I ever expected to hear from him. Especially not so soon. Kenton is a man of few words. He has such a stern exterior, but you know what they say about still waters. They run deep. Meaning Kenton has a hard exterior when in reality he has so many thoughts and emotions going through him. I hope that I can be the person that he talks to and confides in.
When he came over last night, I was terrified. I was afraid that it meant that he knew it was me at that warehouse. I just knew he was going to tell me we were over, and I was likely going to prison along with my father. I didn’t know what to say or even how to speak. How does anyone find the courage to confess something so horrible?
I hope I never have to find out.
I just really want us to be happy forever and in love. I want us to be together forever, and as silly as it sounds, I need it with my whole heart. I don’t ever want to be without him. So What is taking him so long? I turn and look at him with a big smile when I hear him walking down the hall.
“Hey there handsome,” I call.
He walks slowly, holding something I can’t quite see yet. He says nothing as I frown at the dark shape in his hands. What can I possibly be? And then suddenly it hits me like a punch in the gut. He is holding the black sweatshirt that I wore last night.
Does he know?
It’s entirely possible that I own a black sweatshirt. And everyone knows that I go running. My mind races with every possible direction this conversation can go in. I’m not ready for this conversation but I have to have it. I have to if I want to keep the man I love.
“Lucy,” he says he stares at me. His eyes are dark and full of questions and emotions as he crosses to the table and looks at the lovely stack of banana pancakes I laid out for him, complete with silverware napkins and fresh-squeezed orange juice. “Lucy, I have to go,” he says frowning and laying the black hoodie on the table not looking at me.
“Wait,” I yell as he turns on his heel and begins to walk away.
“Keep the shirt,” he calls over his shoulder, grabbing his jacket from the hook on the wall, and closing the door behind him. My chest is ti
ght as the air fights to escape but finds no route.
He knows. He knows it was me there last night. Which means he knows my father was involved too.
Tears form in my eyes as I pick up the terrible sweatshirt and bundle it up tightly before heaving it across the room. It hits the counter at full force knocking off the coffee pot sending it shattering to the ground.
I am not the kind of girl who has explosive fits of anger. Normally, I will take a deep breath and tell myself to calm down. The whole breathing deeply sounds silly but it works. There is just something about this whole situation though. Something dark and horrible because I know that no matter what I say and do I will lose him. There is no way he can look the other way. To Kenton, the law is black and white. There is no gray area, no middle ground. There’s only right and wrong, prison or freedom, I have no way of making this up to him.
Sliding my hands over my face I close my eyes and press my back against the wall. Hot thick tears burn my throat clawing their way through me.
For the first time in my young life, my heart is breaking. And I have no way of fixing it. Except for this time, it is partially my fault.
I know I can always tell my dad no, but last night I didn’t. I did something incredibly foolish because I wanted to help him. Because in my heart I am still his child, and I don’t know how to put myself first in a way that matters. I always give so much of myself to everyone else, and now it is me who will pay the price. Not my father.
I can’t let him go back to prison. I will have to take the fall to save him.
I might as well because far as I know, only my name is the one that he knows. It’s a conflicting situation right now. On the one hand, I want to run to Kenton, grab him and shake him and tell him that I love him, and I would never do anything to betray him like this. But at the same time, I already have.
I chose my father.
Lowering my head down to my knees I rock as I pull at my hair. Heartbreak rips through me, leaving me trembling on the kitchen floor. It is a pain I have never felt before. Not this deeply anyway. I know heartache, but this is what it feels like to have your heart shatter into a million tiny pieces.
Closing my eyes hard and rocking myself back-and-forth I know what I have to do. I’m going to confront the selfish bastard that put me up to this.
Chapter Twelve
LUCY
My fist pounds hard on the apartment door. I don’t just knock three times to be polite, nor do I slam my hand on the door. In frustration I consciously ball my hand into a fist and start pounding on the door like a madwoman. A neighbor comes out and looks down the hall to see what the noise is then decides to quickly look away. Everyone knows my dad is bad news, and no one wants trouble, especially with him.
Even if he is supposedly a reformed drug lord, people never really grew out of the fear of putting their nose where it doesn’t belong. Soon the only door that hasn’t opened yet to check on me is my own fathers.
“If you don’t open the fucking door, right now, I swear to God I’m going to break the damn thing down!” I scream, pounding my fist so hard that I can feel my knuckles bruising. They will definitely be purple tomorrow. I only hope that I haven’t broken one. If I do, and Annie’s going to kill me. There’s no way I can stack shelves with broken hands.
Suddenly the door jerks open and my father stares at me with confusion, frustration, and fear.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demands looking at me and shaking his head back-and-forth. “Why are you acting like this?”
“I let you ruin everything again!” I scream shoving him back hard, which does little to actually move him. My father though not rock-solid emotionally or even as a principal figure has a solid physical build himself and is difficult to take down in a fight. I know this because I have seen him in several fistfights in my life. All of them traumatized me because who wants to see their father knocked around?
“What the hell are you talking about?” he asks.
“I listened to you again and wished I hadn’t, again. My life was going great... fantastic even. And now, once again, everything has fallen down around me, because of you! How can you be this way? How can you be so fucking selfish?” I rant.
“Hey, watch your mouth,” he snaps.
“How can you do this to me,” I cry, raising my fists again, preparing to punch him in the face. He dodges the first one but my right hook changes course and comes up under his chin and snaps his head back. His eyes wide for a moment.
“Goddamnit Lucy,” he says after stumbling back a step and rubbing his jaw, his eyes hard on mine. I know this is a shock for him. Never in my life have I ever treated him this way. I wouldn’t dare to now, except that I feel as if I’ve already lost everything that matters to me.
“I went out on a limb for you yesterday because you asked me to. Do you understand what you asked of me? Do you understand what the fuck you put me through?” I shriek walking back-and-forth, waving my hands around like a raging lunatic.
Hot tears sting my throat burning my eyes as I cover my face with my hands. I hate to cry. I find it incredibly humiliating and the last thing I want to do is cry in front of the person I now hate most in the world.
“You lied to me and told me that you were done with drugs,” I continue, turning on him and pointing my finger. “You promised me that it was the last time. That everything was over and that we could be a family again. I watched you go to prison, and I watched my prayers be answered by some God who suddenly decided to pay attention to my life.
And then when my life was finally starting to get good, you decide to ask the unthinkable of me. Essentially you asked me to join forces with you, putting me at risk. Without even telling me! I had no affiliation with your drug smuggling or any of that bullshit until last night when you asked me to pick something up for you.”
“Language” he monotones pointily still holding his aching jaw.
“I’ll say whatever the fuck I want,” I snap pacing back-and-forth in the living room resisting the urge to kick the coffee table only because I know it’ll do more damage to me than I will to the furniture. “You asked me to go out there and be a part of a drug bust. Do you know exactly what happens to people who are caught? Did you know that I can go to jail? Hell, I can go to prison, but you didn’t care because you remain the most selfish fucking person on the planet. All you care about is yourself. How are you going to make money? And honestly dad,” I say turning and glancing around the shitty apartment, “Why the fuck are you still in this business if you don’t even make enough money on it anymore to get a decent place to live? Look at this place. How can you live like this?” I ask gesturing to the cracked walls, the dingy carpet, and the broken window shades.
“Now wait one goddamn moment,” he says stepping forward and reaching for me as I take a step back.
“Don’t touch me. I’m not finished,” I snarl at him. “My life was good. I was happy I had a job. I was saving up for college. After this year I was going to do something with my life. I had a boyfriend. Not that you bother to ask me about my dating life or what I’m up to. All you want to know is how I can help you,” I shout smacking my arm across his bookshelf, knocking the books to the floor and a holy Bible lands on top.
“Really dad?” I say gesturing to the Bible before turning away from it and fisting my hands over my face again.
“You put me at so much risk,” I say, unable to hold back the tears any longer, “and you don’t even care. All you thought about was yourself. And now I’m going to lose my job because I’m going to prison because my boyfriend found me out and he will have no choice but to turn me in.”
“The hell he will,” my father growls stepping forward, his hands clenched at his sides. I know he wants to reach for me and comfort me because despite his selfish ways he does in fact love me. “Jake and I’ll put the fear of God into him. I’ll―”
“―Nothing! You will not say or do anything about this matter. He’s probably the one pe
rson in this town who isn’t afraid of you.”
“What are you saying?” he asks confused.
“I am dating Kenton Traverse. Maybe was. Most likely was,” I start to cry again.
My dad freezes. He doesn’t even blink. He simply stares at me.
“You are dating the chief of police, Kenton Traverse. The man who used to date you―” he says slowly articulating each word perfectly as his mind wraps around the revelation.
“Yes,” I snap my eyes fierce on his. “And I have been sleeping with him!”
“Ugh!” he exclaims jerking back and shivering as if revolted by simply the idea.
“I have been dating him in secret,” I snarl stepping toward him, no longer afraid of what he will think about it because I don’t want to hear about his opinion because he obviously doesn’t care enough for me. “I am in love with the chief of police, and he is in love with me. My best friend's dad, my childhood babysitter,” I taunt raising eyebrows, “a man twenty years older than me who treats me with so much love and respect. I can’t even properly explain it to you because you don’t know what those things mean,” I say standing nose to nose with him. Challenging him.
“You’re lying.” He shakes his head, refusing to believe the words that I’m saying.
“I am not,” I glower back at him, refusing to back down. “He spent the night last night. You can ask anyone in the neighborhood. They all saw his cruiser in front of my house this morning. I imagine most of them thought it was a casual morning coffee probably discussing Charlie,” I say, thinking you back to this morning before everything turned sour.
“But he saw me last night in the warehouse,” I continue. “He ran after me, but he couldn’t catch me because I’m faster than him.
“You’re faster than everyone,” my dad says with a quick grin that temporarily defuses the situation.
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