The One You Can’t Forget

by Loren, Roni

  Steven lifted his head. His eyes were puffy from the tears, but a glimmer of yearning was there.

  That was all she needed. Hope. A sign that he wanted to live. She nodded at the gun. “Please put the gun down, Steven. I need you to trust me. We can walk out together. And yes, they’re going to take you to the police station. I can’t prevent that. But know that I’ll be there, too. We’ll start working tonight on how to get you out and get the truth told.”

  He held her gaze, his Adam’s apple bobbing. She could see the wheels turning in his head, the options being weighed, but finally his shoulders sagged. “I’m scared.”

  “I know. That’s okay.”

  He shifted, lifting the gun, its barrel flashing in her vision, but before she could freak out, he leaned forward and placed the gun on the floor in front of her.

  The tight knot of fear inside her released, letting her take a full breath. Ignoring the gun, she stood and put out her hand. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here. I know a certain chef who’s going to be happy to see you.”

  Steven took her hand, his fingers clammy and cold against hers, and got to his feet on wobbly legs, tears dripping off his cheeks. Even though he was taller than she was, he looked small in that living room, hunched and young and on the verge of collapse. She wanted to hug him, tell him it was going to be okay, that the worst was over, but he didn’t need platitudes right now. He needed water, medical care, and a place where he could be safe. She could get him the first two right now. The third she vowed to make happen, no matter what it took. She put her arm around him, picked up her phone, and led him out.

  Steven lifted his hands above his head as he stepped through the front door, which looked to take all of the energy he had left. A rush of people came forward. The officers took him from her, cuffing him, and leading him away. She told him it was going to be okay, and he gave her a resigned nod of understanding. I’m trusting you.

  When they guided him toward a police cruiser, Wes ran to her and threw his arms around her. Even though she knew he—and who knows who else—had heard her confession, she couldn’t find the energy to stress about that right now. She just let herself be enveloped by the embrace.

  “Thank God. When the line went silent…” He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her tighter. “I think that was the longest few minutes of my life. Are you okay?”

  She returned the hug, leaning into the strength of him, adrenaline crashing. “I’m okay.”

  “Yeah?”

  She pressed her cheek to his chest, all the things she’d said inside opening up like Pandora’s box. He knew. People knew. “I’m not sure I’m okay.”

  Then she started crying and didn’t stop for a long damn time.

  chapter

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Rebecca sat in the waiting area of the police station Friday morning exhausted from having been up all night and hollowed out emotionally. She’d talked to Steven briefly and had wanted to make sure everything was being handled correctly, but now she could barely see straight. The realities of the night were settling into the cracks inside her, making them splinter more, breaking through the mental glue and tape and staples she’d used over the years to keep it all together. Every part of her was screaming silently.

  Wes walked in with a to-go tray of two steaming cups of coffee from the shop down the street and a paper bag. He handed her one of the coffees. “They didn’t have any breakfast sandwiches, but I got a few donuts. And sorry it took so long. I had to come in through a back door. A cop getting shot by his kid is big news, so the press is out there in full force. I also heard someone in the coffee shop mention that a Long Acre survivor was involved.”

  “Shit.” Dread settled deeper as she accepted the coffee. “This is going to blow up. I don’t want to be part of the news.”

  “Not something we can control, unfortunately.” Wes sat next to her and sent her a sidelong glance. “But that’s all they know about you right now. No one else heard the other stuff.”

  “What?”

  He stirred his coffee. “I didn’t know if you knew. What you told Steven. It was just me on the line. I didn’t have it on speaker because I couldn’t hear anything with all the racket outside.”

  She looked down. “Oh.”

  “So that, uh, information is safe with me.”

  The words hung heavy between them. He’d heard so much. How she’d hurt Trevor. Her suicide attempt. All of the ugly things she never wanted anyone to know. Before she’d gone into Steven’s house, Wes had said she owed him a conversation, but she doubted he still wanted that now. He was probably thanking his lucky stars she’d ended things last night. Who’d want to sign up for that kind of train wreck?

  “Any word on when you can see Steven again?” he asked, blessedly changing the subject.

  She cleared her throat. “I think I’m done for now. He needed to get some rest, so I told them to let him sleep. I also called a lawyer friend because I’m trained in this kind of law, but I’ve never practiced it. I’d feel better working with someone experienced. He said he’s willing to help.”

  “That’s good.” Wes tapped his fingers against the paper coffee cup. “If you’re free to go, I can give you a ride home. One of the cops drove me to my car. It’s parked out back.”

  She peeked over at him. The last time they’d been alone together, she’d sent him out of her house and straight to a bar. He didn’t owe her any kindness. But she needed to get out of this place, wash the night off, and get some rest. “That would be—”

  The door at the front of the station swung open and banged against the wall, cutting her words off and drawing both her and Wes’s attention.

  Her father burst into the lobby with a scowl on his face and his tie askew.

  Oh, shit.

  “Sir, can I help you?” the officer at the front desk asked.

  But her dad’s eyes were already scanning the area, his mission clear. His gaze landed on her and Wes, and his face reddened. “No, I’ve found who I was looking for, thank you.”

  “Incoming,” Wes said under his breath.

  Her father straightened his tie with brute force and strode over to her with that purposeful, command-the-room way he had. Like a king in his court, no matter where he went. He stopped in front of Rebecca, an examining gaze sweeping over her. “The news reports said you’re okay.”

  “I’m okay,” she said, too tired to put any emotion into it.

  “Good,” he said gruffly, betraying that maybe part of him had been truly worried. But that quickly shifted into his angry voice. “I can’t believe—What were you thinking, Rebecca? That piece of shit shot someone. He had a gun. And you just walk in?”

  “Dad, don’t talk about Steven like that,” she said, frustration entering her voice. “It’s a long story. And I can’t do this right now.”

  “Sir, Rebecca has been up—” Wes started.

  “The hell you can’t listen,” her father said, cutting Wes off like he wasn’t there. “You don’t make a man answer a middle-of-the-night phone call from the police about his only child and then tell him you don’t have time to talk.”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to channel some semblance of energy to face her dad’s fury. He’d been worried. She could appreciate that. “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “You did scare me. And you’re still scaring me. Because I heard some other things from my contact at the news station that you better tell me real fast aren’t true.” He sent Wes a look that could strip the paint off the walls. “Will you excuse us so I can talk to my daughter?”

  Rebecca’s hand shot out and dug into Wes’s thigh. “No, he will not. Wes is staying.”

  Her father’s jaw clenched, and he dragged a chair over to sit and face them. “Fine. He can hear this too then. Might as well since it also concerns him.”

  Rebecca’s stomach rolled. “Dad, I think we should save whatever talk you’re about to give me for some other ti
me somewhere else. I’m exhausted, and you’re clearly angry. We should—”

  “Your name is all over the news, Rebecca,” he said, ignoring her request.

  “I’m aware,” she said curtly.

  “At first it was the heroic story of local lawyer and Long Acre survivor Rebecca Lindt bravely going in to save a teen from a suicide attempt,” he said, his words stark and angry. “Then the truth came out.”

  “That is the truth, sir,” Wes said calmly, clearly not intimidated by her father’s blustering. “Rebecca did save Steven. You would’ve been proud. She was tremendously brave.”

  “Do not tell me what I should be proud of or what my daughter is,” her father said, sending Wes a hateful look. “The news is now reporting that my daughter, a lawyer in my firm, has agreed to represent a delinquent who shot a police officer. You better tell me this is bad reporting, Rebecca. I need to hear that right now. Say it.”

  Rebecca sat up taller in her chair, too exhausted and emotionally empty to give a flying fuck about her father’s temper tantrum. “That’s the truth. Steven was being abused. He shot in self-defense. I’m taking his case.”

  “You are not. I don’t care what this man’s put in your head. He’s got his own record, so I can’t say I’m surprised he’d swindle you,” her father said, eyeing Wes with disgust. “But I am not having my firm involved with this case. A cop killer.”

  “Steven’s dad is going to make it. This won’t be a murder trial,” she said, her anger bubbling hot.

  “That’s just dumb luck,” her father said, flicking a dismissive hand. “We know what his intention was. Do you know how this reflects on my campaign?”

  “Are you kidding me right now?” she said, whisper-yelling so the cops at the desk wouldn’t get a show. “This is a kid’s life, Dad. I know this boy. I’ve worked with him in Wes’s program. The charity project—”

  “Is a goddamned farce,” her father finished. “You’ve been used by this man. If I had known my money was going to some program that funded kids like this—delinquents, dangerous criminals—I would’ve never allowed it. My name and my firm will not be tied to that. I’m pulling the funding today.”

  Wes tensed next to her.

  “What?” Rebecca said, forgetting to keep her voice down. “You can’t do that.”

  “I can, and I will. You weren’t seeing straight when you allocated the money. You were charmed out of it,” her father said, his tone hard.

  “Oh my God, stop it,” she said, pressing her fingers to her temples where a headache was knifing through her brain. “I’m a grown woman. Wes didn’t trick me out of anything. If you know nothing else about me, you know that I’m smart. A guy with a cute smile and a few clever lines isn’t going to turn me into some empty-headed idiot who hands over her bank card. Wes has never asked for anything. He didn’t want the money. He wanted to raise it on his own with the kids. I had to convince him to take it for the program. The whole thing was my idea. And it’s a good idea and a great program.”

  “The funding is done,” her father said, dismissing her argument. “And you’re going to drop this case. Right now.”

  Rage zipped up her spine like a line of firecrackers. “You’re out of your mind.”

  “Rebecca,” he warned.

  “You can take the program funding,” she said, the words like bullets. “I can’t control that, but you can’t make me drop a case. That’s my call.”

  Her father’s face went even redder. “If you take it, I will let you go from the firm. No partnership and no job.”

  An icy chill splashed over her, like she had tumbled backward and landed in cold water. No partnership. No job. All her work to get to where she was at the firm gone. She breathed through the rush of panic and put a firm picture of Steven’s anguished face in her mind, his desperate need for help when he’d put that gun to his head. “Then I’ll start my own firm.”

  Her father pointed a finger at her. “Don’t play poker with me, young lady. I will not sacrifice the reputation of my firm and this campaign so that you can take on some pet project for your boyfriend.”

  Her fists clenched. “Are you hearing yourself right now? This is not poker or some game. I will walk. You know I can. You’ve always pushed me to be the best. Well, mission accomplished. I have the money, the reputation, and the skills to do this on my own. You can’t force me to give in.”

  “I don’t want to, Rebecca, but I can. And I will do it if you force my hand, because it’s what’s best for you. You are flushing everything you’ve worked for down the toilet right now for nothing,” he said, his tone deadly. “I knew early on that you had a piece of your mother’s impulsiveness in you, a part of her reckless personality. I did everything I could to train it out of you, but some things are rooted deep. I will not stand by and let you ruin everything like she did. You will not destroy all that you’ve worked for, all you have, for a whim. For some tattooed punk who can’t give you anything but a broken heart and an empty bank account down the line. By the time your mother realized her mistake, her exciting boyfriend had dumped her with nothing to her name. She had to crawl to me for help.”

  A hard jolt went through Rebecca. “What?”

  She came back?

  “She wanted it all back. Her life with me. The stability. The money. You. But it was too late. There is no coming back from mistakes like that. I gave her money and told her to leave us be. But if she had controlled that impulsive urge when she met Mr. Excitement, she’d have her family now, a good life. I will not let you turn out like her.”

  Rebecca’s eyes swam with tears, and Wes grabbed her hand. She didn’t know if she was devastated, angry, or both. “She came back? How could you keep that from me? She was my mother.”

  “I did it for your own good. And I’ll do that again if you don’t come to your senses on this case. I don’t want to do this. I’m asking that you don’t put me in this position.”

  A loud buzzing had started up in her ears. I don’t want to do this. He’d been making threats. She’d thought he only meant the loss of her job, but something about the way he’d said it made cold dread go through her. “What position?”

  He gave her a grim look. “If you don’t drop this case, you’re going to force me to go to the press with an explanation of why you have such a bleeding heart for a young criminal.”

  Rebecca choked, the floor feeling like it was tilting beneath her feet. “Dad…you…”

  He reached out and put a hand on her knee, his gaze earnest. “Despite what you may think right now, this is the last thing I want to do. I love you. Everything I have done your whole life is because I love you and want what’s best for you. I don’t want to hurt you. But you’re not seeing reason. You’re going to mess up your life.”

  “You wouldn’t do that to me,” she said, the words spilling out. “Just to save your campaign. You wouldn’t.”

  “No, I wouldn’t. Not for the campaign. I would do it to save you. All you have to do is drop the case and cut your ties with this program. Then no one else ever has to know. The press will go away. You can go back to your normal life. A life you seemed to be happy with not that long ago. If you get your head clear and sit down and think about it, you’ll see how obvious the decision is. This is not a hill worth dying on. Some other lawyer will take this kid’s case and do fine.”

  The words were a cyclone in her head, the emotions muddying up her thoughts. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. Panic pushed at her frayed composure, threatening to overtake. “I—”

  “She’ll consider it and get back to you,” Wes interjected.

  She turned her head sharply, and the room spun a little.

  Wes gave her a pointed look. “Rebecca has been up all night and under a tremendous amount of stress. This is not a good time to be making decisions. Nothing is going to happen with the case for a little while. You both need to take a break from this conversation and talk in a day or two. Right now, emotions are running too high.”

/>   Her father harrumphed. “So you can get ahold of her and rally her to your side?”

  Wes’s teeth clenched, and he turned to look at her father. “Your daughter broke things off with me yesterday, so the magical spell I put on her has apparently worn off. I must not have put enough eye of newt in the cauldron,” he said, the words barbed. “But your daughter is exhausted and has been through hell in the last twelve hours. You are making it worse. So maybe save the blackmail for after she’s gotten some sleep and a little food in her.”

  Her father stood like someone had poked him with a cattle prod. “Blackmail—”

  But Wes wasn’t getting interrupted again. He got to his feet, using the three inches of height he had over her dad to full effect. “And you, Mr. Lindt, also need to step away from this because my guess is you really do love your daughter. But you’re about to set fire to that relationship and burn it to the ground. I don’t think that’s what either of you wants. So whatever your agenda is, whatever reasons you’re giving yourself for giving her this ultimatum, maybe think about if that’s worth losing your only kid over.”

  Her father’s face went full red, but his attention jumped to her.

  Rebecca stood and held her ground despite everything imploding inside her. “Wes’s right. I’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Rebecca—”

  Rebecca reached for Wes’s hand, needing something to anchor her. He took it and gave hers a squeeze, a simple reassurance that made her feel less alone. She didn’t know where she and Wes stood at this point relationship-wise, but in that moment he was exactly what she needed—a friend.

  She gave her dad one last look, and she and Wes walked toward the back of the station, escaping it all.

  For now.

  But she knew it was only temporary. She couldn’t run far and fast enough. The past had dogged her all her life, breathing down her neck, nipping at her heels. She’d worked hard to stay one step ahead.

  Now, she’d finally stumbled.