Split

by J. B. Salsbury

  Nash pushes his way through the human barricade to Shyann and I breathe a little easier knowing he’s with her. He’d never let anything touch her. He swings his cold blue gaze to me and I resist the urge to tuck my chin.

  I didn’t do anything wrong, at least not that I remember.

  Last I remember was that Trevor guy making comments about Shyann and then Gage shoved me into the dark.

  Fear ripples through my veins as a thought hits me hard.

  Did Gage hurt Trevor?

  I do a quick inventory and my knuckles aren’t sore, no aches that would give away there was some kind of physical fight. I don’t own weapons, so…?

  The police pull me out to the front porch and Buddy barks at me feet. “It’s okay, Buddy. It’ll be okay.” The front of my house looks like a parking lot filled with a couple sheriff’s Jeeps, Trevor’s car, a van, and Nash’s truck. “What happened?”

  “We were hoping you could tell us,” the deputy leading me to a Jeep says.

  I wish I could.

  Headlights shine as another truck pulls up, this one brown with SHERIFF written in gold letters on the side.

  Just then, Shyann appears in front of me and throws her arms around my neck. “It’s gonna be okay, Lucas. I promise. I’ll figure out a way to get you out of this.”

  If I had the use of my hands, I’d hold her to me, but I don’t, so I nuzzle her hair at her neck and breathe as much of her in as I can.

  Nash pulls her away, but she rips her arm free. “Stop, I just want to say goodbye.”

  I look between Nash and Shy, hoping to decipher her meaning. She pulls my face down to hers.

  “Why goodbye, Shyann?”

  Her lip quivers, but she’s strong and fights back the tears. “Don’t worry, okay?”

  I shrug, but my body screams I should be more than worried. “Okay.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  The twitch of a smile tickles my lips. “Yes.”

  She sighs and pushes up to her toes. “I love you.”

  My eyelids drop closed as the warmth of her words spread through me and breathe life into my soul. The soft heat of her lips brush against me in a slow kiss before she rests her forehead on mine.

  “I love you too.”

  “Lucas Menzano?” Sheriff Austin steps up to me, his face grim. “You’re under arrest for the assault of Samantha Crawford.”

  The sound of Shyann’s roar slices through the night and straight to my chest.

  Thirty-Eight

  Lucas

  “You’re telling me you were home the night in question?” Gary, the deputy interrogating me, stares with disbelief.

  We’ve gone over this multiple times already, and no matter how many creative ways he tries to ask it, my answer is still the same. “Yes, sir, as far as I can remember.”

  He leans across the table, his forearms bracing his weight. “And you don’t have anyone to corroborate your story?”

  “No, sir.”

  He falls back into his chair with a huff and shakes his head. “Witnesses say you were seen leaving the victim’s house just after six in the morning.”

  “No, I’ve never been to Sam’s house.” Nausea crawls through my gut. Someone saw me, or rather Gage? After the blackout receded, I didn’t feel any different. My muscles weren’t weak or sore; there wasn’t evidence of a fight left on my body, no blood on my clothes, but I was in the shower. I suppose any evidence could’ve been washed away.

  “Is it true that you and the victim had some kind of sexual relationship?”

  I drop my head and search for the courage it’ll take to be honest. If I want to stay in Payson, have a shot at being a good man, the kind of man Shy deserves, I need to own who I am. I peer up at him and hope what I’m about to say doesn’t get me locked up in prison, or worse, an institution. “Yes and no.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  I shift in my seat, my hands completely numb from the handcuffs and my arms well on their way. “I…um…I was abused as a child. My mind isn’t like most people’s and because of that I black out. It’s like sleepwalking, only I’m awake, but I’m…not there. So I myself can’t remember having any kind of a sexual relationship with Sam, but I’ve heard we…hooked up.”

  He doesn’t say anything but I sense shock in his silence.

  His eyes narrow. “Employees at Pistol Pete’s who saw you together, they said the two of you got into some kind of fight and that you”—he flips through a few pages on a small spiral notebook—“threw her to the ground.” He makes eye contact, daring me to lie. “Is that true?”

  I swallow, knowing how bad this must look. “Yes, sir, I think it might be.”

  He lifts his eyebrows.

  “I’d had a few beers and Sam started kissing me. I didn’t like it and wanted her to leave me alone. I…um”—blacked out—“I don’t remember what happened after that.” I huff out a breath. That was harder than I thought.

  The deputy’s judgment is evident in his glare. “According to people in the bar, after your altercation with Sam, you left with Shyann Jennings.”

  I nod, not because I remember, but because that’s the story Shy told me.

  “You and Shyann seem pretty serious.”

  My eyes tighten and again, I nod. “I’m in love with her. For me, that’s as serious as it gets.”

  “You know Shy and Sam were friends a long time ago. Sam’s now with Shyann’s ex.” He shrugs. “Jealousy’s a powerful motivator.”

  “I didn’t beat up Sam.” I just can’t prove it.

  He slaps his hands on the table. “Right. Okay, it’s late and I need to get home. I’m going to put you in a cell and we’ll figure this out in the morning.”

  A cell.

  My heart pounds as he guides me out of the questioning room and into one of six or seven holding cells. The barred door swings open to a padded bench and a single toilet. I freeze, my body rejecting my command to move. With a firm press from Gary, I step inside and my skin pricks with anxiety.

  The door closes and I jump at the loud clank of metal on metal.

  “Back up, stick your hands out, and I’ll remove those cuffs.”

  I do as I’m told and the blood flow returns to my fingers.

  “Lucas.” Gary tilts his head, studying me. “The thing with your mind, is it something you can’t control?”

  “I can’t. When it hits, I’m helpless.”

  He nods and avoids my eyes. “Get some sleep.”

  The lights go off and I’m able to calm just a little at being alone in the dark. The smell of disinfectant and stale air swirls around me, and claustrophobia pricks at my skin. I lie down on the bench and throw my forearm over my eyes and imagine I’m in bed at the river house, and it helps to ease the panic.

  No matter what I do, I can’t seem to keep myself out of trouble.

  Witnesses say they saw me at Sam’s and I can’t deny it because my memory is a blank spot.

  Whoever said they saw me at Sam’s has to be lying, but it’s my word—the word of an accused and acquitted felon—against eyewitnesses.

  Once the news gets out that I’m split, not even my innocence will save me.

  Shyann

  I push through the door to my dad’s house well after midnight to find him in a familiar spot in the kitchen. After Lucas was arrested, I hung back at the river house with Buddy, made sure he was fed and warm before I sat talking his fluffy little ears off. I pretended I was talking to the dog, but I was really talking to my mom. Asking her for guidance and praying she’d hook Lucas up with some divine intervention to get him free of this ridiculous charge.

  My dad is leaning into the table on one elbow, his head in his hand and a short glass of amber liquid in front of him.

  “Hey, Dad.” I toss the keys onto the kitchen counter and drop into the chair across from his.

  “Shy, you okay?” He pushes back and slumps into his seat.

  “No.”

  “Mind telling me what’s
going on between you and Lucas?”

  I blink up at him and for the first time it doesn’t take all my reinforced walls and steely attitude to tell him exactly what’s on my heart. “I’m in love with him, Dad.”

  “See that.” He picks up his glass and takes a mouthful down his throat. “Seems he feels the same, not that I blame him.”

  My lip quivers and my chest throbs as his quiet compliment.

  “You’re so much like her, ya know.”

  I flinch and squelch the hope blooming in my chest. You’re nothing like your momma. His words ring through my ears and I shake my head. “Like who?”

  He sighs and a soft chuckle falls from his lips. “You know your granddaddy wasn’t too happy about his daughter falling for a pale face. He made it damn near impossible for us to be together.”

  I grin, remembering the stories my mom would tell about her and Dad having secret meeting places, how she spent time with a boy she grew up with on the reservation, paid him to act like her boyfriend so her dad would get off her back. “She told me.”

  “The woman was stubborn as hell.” He rubs the back of his neck and drops his chin. “God, I miss her.”

  My instinct is to say something to comfort him, words of strength that’ll hold him together, but I’m choked with sorrow. I miss her too.

  “I know when you left for college I said you were nothing like her.” His eyes shine with a vulnerability I haven’t seen in him since the day we lost Momma. “I lied. You’re so much like her it scares me to death.”

  “Dad…” My breath catches and a single tear slides down my cheek.

  “I hated losing her. Then I lost you. Now you’re back, and”—he shakes his head—“I can’t lose you again.”

  “You won’t lose me, Dad. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Can you promise me that boy is safe?” He tilts his head. “I’d bet he’s all right, but I won’t gamble with your safety.”

  “I…yeah, I mean—”

  “I don’t like that Trevor guy, but fact is Lucas tied him up.”

  I open my mouth to defend Lucas but slam my lips shut without a single defense. “He deserved it. You can’t ambush a man at his home in the middle of the night, especially a man like Lucas.”

  “I feel terrible about the life the boy was forced to live. Understand how that would mess a kid up. He’s always seemed like a decent guy. And now you’re in love with him.” He drains his glass and stands up. “Your mom was blind to my faults. I felt like the luckiest man in the world and took advantage of her not seein’ ’em. Don’t make the same mistake, baby. You see red flags, you run.” He dips and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “I won’t lose you too.”

  I watch my dad amble down the hallway like a man pulling the weight of a thousand lives behind him.

  Red flags. You run.

  Not this time. I’m done running.

  Thirty-Nine

  Shyann

  “I’m sorry, Shyann, but visiting hours don’t start for another thirty minutes.” Diana, the receptionist at the hospital, gives me a sympathetic smile.

  I have to see Sam. I have to wake her up, plead with her to push through so she can give me the information that’ll free Lucas.

  My fingers clasp together on the counter in front of me and I try to remain calm. “I know, and I’d never want to get you in trouble, but do you really think anyone’s going to balk over thirty measly minutes?” I’ve been waiting to get in to see Sam since before the sun came up, and with every passing hour I could see Diana’s resolve dwindling. “Please, if anything happened and she didn’t wake up, I’d…” A lump forms in my throat at the very thought that Sam might not come away from all this okay. That I’d never get a chance to say how sorry I am for being a shitty friend.

  “Sorry, Shy—”

  “Please. I’m going crazy here.” Only she can free Lucas and I must get through to her and at least try to pull her out of this.

  She sighs heavily and leans toward me. “I’m going to run to the bathroom.” A tiny lift of her eyebrows is all she gives before she turns her back and walks away.

  With her out of sight, I scurry toward the double doors and pray like hell I don’t get caught. Once through, no one seems to care that I’m there except for a few questioning looks from nurses that I brush off by acting like I belong there, walking the halls of the hospital.

  I follow the numbered doors until I reach Sam’s. Her door is cracked and I peek inside to see her lying in the dark alone and still unconscious. I tiptoe inside, close the door, and take the seat closest to her bedside.

  I expect her parents will be here the second visiting hours open and I don’t want an audience for what I need to say.

  Gently grasping her swollen fingers, I dip my forehead to our joined hands. “Sam, please wake up. I know I don’t deserve your friendship. Don’t deserve your help, not after the way I left things between us. I’m so sorry. I should’ve been a better friend to you.”

  My words fade into the rhythmic sounds of the medical equipment as it beeps and hisses around us. Nausea rolls through my stomach as guilt and shame eat at my insides. I left Payson to avoid feeling, closed myself off to every single person who killed the numbness I refused to emerge from. It’s never been about this town; it’s always been about the people in it. About their love for me and my family, their concern, and even their pity. After Momma died, I was suffocated with it. All of it too much to internalize and more than I could ever process. So rather than even try, I took off.

  I hardened myself against feeling anything. No friends, meaningless sex with someone I couldn’t stand, I even chose the most emotionless job available. Then I got fired and who did I turn to when I needed help? The people I abandoned without ever looking back. They should hate me. At the very least ignore me.

  But they didn’t.

  They embraced me.

  Taking a deep breath, a sense of calmness comes over me. I stare at Sam as her chest rises and falls with the ventilator. “Come back to us. Don’t let this be the end.” My nose burns and my eyes fill with tears. “I know it’s selfish, but I want the time to make up for ditching our friendship.” I lean my elbows on the bed. “I’m sorry about what happened at the bar the other night with Lucas. If I hadn’t messed things up between us a long time ago, you would’ve known I had feelings for him.” I blink back tears as I imagine him locked in a cell. “I love him, Sam. And he loves me too.” I drop my forehead and sniff back tears as they rush to the surface. “He’s never had anyone to save him, and I won’t be another person on the list of people who’ve let him down. I won’t abandon anyone I love ever again.”

  Silent minutes pass and fall into the next and for the first time since before my momma died, I pray. I send up heartfelt requests and plead with God that Sam will survive this. That Lucas will finally catch the break he so desperately deserves and get a chance at living a life free from fear and filled with peace.

  Lost in my prayers, I startle at the sound of my name being whispered.

  Blinking open my eyes, I see Mrs. Crawford pulling off her purse and setting it on the floor before she comes to me.

  “You’re here early.” Her gaze moves from me to Sam and she frowns.

  I follow her eyes and my heart cramps at what she must feel seeing her daughter like this. “Yeah, I had to see her.”

  She moves to the other side of the bed and sits on the edge. “Suppose you heard they arrested that quiet boy for questioning.”

  I nod. “He didn’t do it. I can’t prove it, but I just…something doesn’t feel right.”

  She hums. “Everything about this is far from feeling right.” Her hands hold Sam’s free one and she leans over and kisses her daughter’s bruised forehead.

  “Yeah. I better go.” I want to stop by and sit with Lucas as long as I can. I flash what I hope is an encouraging smile at Sam’s mom. “Call me if she wakes up?”

  “Of course.”

  I press a gentle kiss to
Sam’s head and send one last silent message. Wake up. Help me save him.

  Lucas

  Time passes slowly when sleep refuses to come. I’ve been staring at the ceiling of this small cell because every time I close my eyes, all I can see is Shyann. Her face tormented as I was taken into custody. The sound of her hollered protest rings in my ears even still, and knowing she’s out there hurting is killing me worse than the possibility of me serving jail time for a crime I didn’t commit.

  “Menzano.”

  I cringe at the sound of my last name but sit up and swing my feet to the floor. My back cramps from lying on the thinly padded steel platform.

  “You’ve got a visitor.” A deputy I’ve never met swings open the door.

  A flash of black hair has my heart pounding and I rush to the bars just as Shyann’s eyes find mine. She thanks the deputy and comes to stand just behind a bright yellow line painted on the concrete. Her eyes move over my face, neck, chest, and to my feet.

  “They said I can’t get close enough to touch you.” The pain of her voice makes everything behind my ribs ache.

  “It’s okay. Seeing you is enough.”

  She tilts her head, squinting. “Are you all right?”

  Heat creeps up my neck at how I must look behind bars in my sweatpants and a borrowed T-shirt after a night without sleep. “I’m good. Yeah.”

  A rush of air comes from her lips and her shoulders drop a little. “This is all a mistake, Lucas. It has to be.”

  “I know. I mean, I know I didn’t hurt Sam, and Gage…” Is it presumptuous to say he’d never hurt her either?

  “She wasn’t a threat to you, Lucas. He didn’t do it, but…” She studies the room, clearly spotting the few cameras strategically placed and pointing our way. “They know about you now.”

  I nod.

  “They’re going to think the worst of what they don’t understand.”

  “Shy, don’t worry about me. They’ll investigate and the truth will come to light. Everything will be okay.” I’m not sold that it will, but I lie to make her feel better.