"Shit. I'm really sorry. I never should've told anyone. I had no idea it would come to this."
"I had a feeling this would come back to haunt us."
"If you quit, what would you do for work?"
"I know some people who do private security who could get me a job. The benefits won't be as good, but I'll be fine. So you think you can handle talking to the police?"
"Yeah. I got it."
"If you're unsure about anything, just call me. I'll be home all night."
"Okay. Talk to you later."
I end the call just as another one's coming in. I don't recognize the number.
"Hello?"
"Is this Reed?" It's a man's voice.
"Yes. Who's this?"
"Someone who's been asked to give you a message."
"What message? What are you talking about?"
"Do you care about your family? About their safety and well-being?"
"What the hell kind of question is that? Who is this?"
"If you care about your family, end your relationship with Lilly Kensington. She's part of something much bigger than you. She's deceiving you. Using you. And when she's done with you, you'll have nothing left."
"Is this some kind of prank?"
"The recording was only step one. Things will get much worse if you continue to see her."
"Who the fuck is this? Tell me who you are."
The line is dead. He hung up.
I call the number back and hear a recorded message, "We're sorry, but this is not a valid number. Please try a different number."
What the fuck is going on? Who was that on the phone? And why was he saying that stuff about Lilly? She's not deceiving me. Or using me. She'd never do that. She's not that type of person. But what if she really did record me? Why would she do that? And why would she report me to the police?
How did the man on the phone know about the recording? Was he the witness? Did he see the accident and convince Lilly to record my confession? But she had no idea I would ever tell her about the accident. Or did she? Has she been playing me all along? Trying to get me to trust her so that I'd tell her what I did? I can't imagine her doing that. That's not the Lilly I know.
What if my uncle's right? What if I don't know her as well as I think I do? How is that even possible? I see her every freaking day. We have class together. We eat together. We study together. We talk constantly. How could I not know her by now?
The rest of the night, I try to think of any times when it seemed like Lilly was lying to me or hiding things from me. But I can't think of a single moment. She always seems so honest. So sincere. That's one of the reasons I fell in love with her.
And that hasn't changed. I still love her. Despite my doubts, despite everything going on, I still love her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Lilly
Monday morning, I wake up at eight and call Reed. His phone rings and rings but he doesn't answer so I leave a message, telling him to call me. I check my texts but he hasn't sent me any. I'm getting worried. I haven't heard from him since he left my room last night.
I jump out of bed and hurry over to my closet and find some clothes. I put on shorts and a sweatshirt and gather my hair into a ponytail. I call Reed again but he still doesn't pick up. I decide to just go over to his room.
On my way there, I run into Preston.
"Hey, Lilly."
"Hey," I mumble, walking past him.
"Is something wrong?"
I stop and turn back. "I'm in a hurry. I can't talk right now."
"What's the rush?"
"Preston, I have to go."
He smiles a little. "Have a good day."
I turn around and keep walking, wondering for the millionth time why I ever dated him. I never felt comfortable around him and yet I still went out with him. Even now, he makes me uncomfortable.
When I get to Reed's room, I knock lightly on the door. I don't want to wake up his neighbors. The guys on his floor sleep until noon unless they have class.
"Reed?" I knock again since he hasn't answered. "Are you in there?"
Again, no answer. I turn to leave but then hear something fall on the floor in his room, followed by a very faint "shit."
I go back to his door. "Reed?"
There's silence.
"Reed, I know you're in there so why aren't you opening the door?"
The door opens just a crack. "I can't talk right now."
His hair is messed up, like he ran his hands through it repeatedly. And his eyes look tired, like he didn't sleep last night.
"Reed, what's wrong? Did something happen?" I push on the door, but it doesn't move. "Let me in."
"I can't. You need to go."
"What? Why?" I'm getting that same anxious, sick feeling I had last night.
"I can't talk to you right now."
Something's not right. He's acting strange. And why won't he let me in his room?
"Why can't you talk to me?"
"Because I can't, okay?" He looks down and rubs his face.
"No, it's not okay. Tell me what's going on."
He tries to shut the door but I grab hold of it, forcing him to leave it open.
"Reed. Tell me what's wrong," I say, my voice quivering, a huge lump forming in my throat.
"Lilly, please." He speaks softly, his head down, refusing to look at me. "Just go."
"I don't understand. Last night you told me you..." I don't want to say it. Maybe I misheard him. Or maybe he didn't mean it.
"I still do," he says quietly. "That hasn't changed."
"Then what's changed? Why are you acting this way?"
When he doesn't answer, the tears I was holding back break free, streaming down my cheeks. I don't want to cry, but the way he's acting, shutting me out like this, hurts so much I can't help it. I sniffle, my breathing ragged.
Reed looks up at me. His shoulders drop and his expression softens.
"God, Lilly, please don't cry." He brings his hand up to my face, wiping the tears away. "It kills me to see you sad."
"Then stop acting like this and tell me what's wrong."
"Why won't you just admit it?" He sounds hurt. "Why do you keep pretending?"
"Pretending what? What are you talking about?"
"I know, Lilly. I know the truth. I know you did it."
"Did what?" I shove the door open and go into his room. "Are you talking about the accident?" I raise my voice because now I'm getting angry.
He shuts the door. "Keep your voice down. I don't want people to hear."
"For the last time, I didn't do it. Why won't you believe me?"
He comes over and stands in front of me. "My uncle heard the recording."
"What recording?"
"The evidence against him—and me—is a recording. A recording of me telling you about the accident. It was a conversation you and I had in your room."
"What?" I step back, my heart racing, my head feeling dizzy. "That doesn't make sense."
"You recorded me. And then sent the recording to the police."
"No." I shake my head, tears falling again. "I never did that. I swear to you, I didn't. How would I even do that?"
"With your phone. You used a recording app and turned it on right before I told you that story." His tone turns angry and accusatory. "How many other times did you record me? And why did you do it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have an app that records. You're making this up."
"Give me your phone." He holds his hand out.
"No." I wake up my phone and check the screen for this app he's referring to. "It's not on here because I never added it. I didn't even know recording apps existed."
"Can I see it?"
I hand him the phone. His finger swipes over the screen a few times, then he hands it back to me. "I can't find it."
"Because it's not on there."
"Then you must've deleted it."
"I didn't record you!" I walk away fro
m him. "Reed, I don't know what's going on here, but someone else did this. It wasn't me."
"Then who was it?"
"I don't know!" I yell it, then take a breath and lower my voice. "Just please stop accusing me of this."
"Lilly, I want to believe you. I want to more than anything. I keep telling myself you wouldn't do this, but there's no other explanation."
Someone knocks on the door. "Reed? It's Matt."
"It's my RA," Reed says to me.
He opens the door and his RA is standing there with two police officers.
"Reed Ashford?" the one officer says.
"Yes." Reed doesn't act surprised to see them there. He must've known they were coming.
"We'd like you to come with us down to the station." The officer goes on to explain how Reed is a suspect in a hit-and-run that happened in LA and how it now involves a possible cover-up by a police officer, but he doesn't say Reed's uncle's name.
As they're taking Reed away, I stop one of the officers. "Can I go with him?"
"That's up to him."
"No," Reed says to the officer. "She's not coming with."
The officer nods and they leave.
It's a good thing I didn't eat breakfast because I feel like I might throw up. And my head is aching as I try to remember the day Reed told me that story. Nobody else was in my room that day. It was just Reed and me, so how did this happen? Who recorded us and how did they do it? And why? None of this makes sense.
What's Reed going to tell those officers? Will he tell them I was the one who gave the anonymous tip and sent in the recording? If so, will I get in trouble?
Back in my room, I call Garret. I need help and I'm afraid to call my dad. He'll overreact and get really mad, and right now, I can't deal with that.
"Garret," I say when he answers. "I need you to get up here."
"Right now?"
"Yes."
"Why?" I hear the panic in his voice. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"
"No. It's something else. I can't explain this over the phone. Can you come here or not?"
"Yeah. I'm in a meeting with Dad but we can do this later. We'll head up there right now."
"No! I don't want Dad knowing about this. Just come alone."
"Lilly, if this is something serious, I'm not going to keep it from Dad."
I nervously bite my lip, trying to figure out what to do.
"I'm bringing him with," Garret says. "We'll be there soon."
"No, Garret—" I hear silence and realize he hung up. Damn.
This is going to be bad. My dad will hate Reed for accusing me of this. Garret will too. And how will I explain this? Explaining it means telling them about the accident and I promised Reed I wouldn't tell anyone. Then again, everyone will know about it if the police end up arresting him.
An hour later, my dad and Garret arrive. My dad's wearing one of his power suits, which I always find intimidating. Garret has a suit on too. Garret rarely wears a suit.
They come in my room and we do the usual hugs and hellos, but their faces are serious. They look me up and down to make sure I'm not hurt in any way, crossing injuries off the list of possible reasons why they're here.
"Why are you two so dressed up?" I ask.
"We're giving a presentation later," Garret says. "But we might cancel it, depending on why we're here. So why are we here?"
He's standing next to Dad, who already looks mad.
"You want to sit down?" I ask.
"We'll remain standing." My dad crosses his arms over his chest. "Does this involve Reed?"
"Yeah. He um..." I'm nervous to tell them this. And I still don't know if I should, but how else do I explain why I asked them to come here? "This morning the police took Reed in for questioning."
"Questioning about what?" Garret asks, now looking as angry as Dad does.
"About an accident that happened a few years ago. But if I tell you this, you have to promise me you won't tell anyone."
"We're not promising you that," my dad says.
"If you tell the police this, it could destroy Reed's future. I don't know all the rules of how the justice system works but it's possible they could arrest him and charge him and send him to jail, which would mean he'd have no future. And his uncle would be fired and also put in jail."
"What does his uncle have to do with this?" my dad asks.
"There was a cover-up. His uncle is a cop and he covered up the accident so Reed wouldn't get in trouble."
Garret and my dad exchange looks. They do this sometimes. They exchange these looks that seem to mean something but I don't know what. It's like the two of them share some secret and won't tell me what it is.
"Reed caused the accident?" my dad asks.
"Yes. It happened when he was 15. He was drunk driving and hit the bumper of an oncoming car and the car hit a pole and the driver got hurt. It wasn't anything major, but the guy did have to get stitches. Anyway, Reed left the scene and called his uncle and his uncle made sure the accident wasn't traced back to Reed."
"And how are you involved in this?" Garret asks.
"Nobody knew about it until Reed told me a few weeks ago. Then just yesterday, someone called the police and said they knew what happened that night. Reed thinks I was the one who made the call, but I didn't. It wasn't me."
"He's accusing you of something you didn't do?" Garret's getting angrier.
My dad's quiet, but I can see his mind working, probably trying to figure out how to keep me out of this mess. He's always thinking ahead.
I continue. "Reed assumes it was me because the police were given a recording of him telling me about the accident. But I never recorded him. We were here in my room. Just the two of us. So I don't know how it's possible there could be a recording."
"And the police don't know who turned in the recording?" my dad asks.
"No. Whoever it was wanted to remain anonymous."
Garret and my dad exchange looks again, then start searching my room. Garret goes to my closet while my dad searches my dresser.
"What are you guys doing?"
"Your room is bugged," my dad says. "With at least one microphone. Maybe more. Where were you sitting when you had this conversation?"
"I don't know. We were probably on the bed."
Garret's head whips back to me. "You were on the bed with him?"
I roll my eyes. "Where else are we supposed to sit?"
He shakes his head. "Dad, remind me to buy her some chairs."
My dad stops searching my dresser. "It's not here. Garret, did you find anything?"
"Not yet." He's still going through my closet. He points to the beige blouse my mom gave me. "You actually wear this? It doesn't even look like you."
"Mom gave it to me. I wore it when she was here."
My dad turns to me, looking even angrier than before. "Where was your mother?"
"What do you mean?"
"When she came to visit you, was she in your room?"
"Yeah. Why?"
Garret looks at Dad. "Katherine."
"What?" I ask, my eyes bouncing between the two of them.
"Did you leave her alone in here?" my dad asks.
"Just for a few minutes, when I went to use the bathroom. Why? What's going on?"
"Tell me exactly where she was," my dad says. "Did she sit anywhere?"
"She sat at my desk."
Dad and Garret race over to it. Garret starts inspecting all the little boxes I keep my desk supplies in while my dad sits on the chair, running his hand along the bottom of the drawer.
"Garret." My dad brings his hand up. There's something on his palm.
"Shit," Garret mumbles.
There's a tiny metal circle on my dad's palm. He raises it up to his face and says, "Hello, Katherine."
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Lilly
My eyes fixate on the tiny microphone. Did my mom really do this? Did she really plant microphones in my room? Has she been listening to me since the
first day of school? Heard all my private conversations? Heard me doing...other things? Oh my God, I feel sick.
My dad gets his phone out, but before he makes a call, he speaks into the microphone again. "Katherine, if you do not answer your phone when I call, I will be on the first flight out there. You know how I get when I'm angry. And right now, I'm beyond angry, so if you'd rather not face my wrath in person, I suggest you answer my call."
He calls my mom and she actually answers. He puts her on speaker.
"Hello, Katherine."
"Pearce, I am not going to listen to you lecture me on why you felt this was wrong. I did this to protect our daughter."
"By planting microphones in her room?"
"It was ONE microphone, not several."
"There aren't any others? Tell me the truth, Katherine. You know I own a device that will detect each and every microphone in this room." He eyes my desk, where my backpack is sitting. "I will check all of her possessions as well."
She's quiet and then says, "Fine. There's one in her purse."
My purse? I take my purse everywhere. My mom has been listening to me everywhere I go?
My dad motions me to get it and I bring it to him. He searches the outside zippered compartment I never use, and buried at the very bottom is another tiny microphone.
"You had no right to do this," he says to her.
"I most certainly did. As her mother, I have every right to keep tabs on my daughter. She's young and naive and can't be trusted to make the proper decisions. This is a crucial time in her life and I'm not going to sit idly by while she makes mistakes that will affect the rest of her life. Just look what happened to Garret. His entire future was destroyed because you refused to keep him in line. If you'd intervened and not let Garret make such horrible decisions, he'd be on his way to being—"
"Katherine!" My dad glances at me. I get the feeling he didn't want me knowing whatever my mom was about to say. "We are not talking about Garret. We are talking about Lilly, and she is perfectly capable of making her own decisions."
"Our daughter is spending all her time with a boy who has a criminal past and a deadbeat mother. And you find that to be a good decision?"
"I have already met this boy and looked into his background. He has had one arrest, but the charges were dropped."
Lilly: A Kensington Family Novel Page 25
