I have to go to Marc’s house. I have to know if it was him that she really left with. I need to see if she’s there. Because, if I did all of this for her - for her to feel safe, for us to move on and have a future - just for her to move on and fuck my friend in a matter of days, I’m going to flip the fuck out. More than I did when I caught Carla cheating on me, because Emilie means way more to me.
“For a guy who broke up with a girl, you sure do seem awfully mad.”
“Not now, Carla,” I warn.
I pull my phone out and decide to send him a text first, to see if he’ll say anything.
Me: Hey. Have you seen Emilie recently?
The minutes tick by with no response. I’m sure if he’s innocent, he’d wonder what kind of question that is and would ask why I’d ask that, but if he is with her, he won’t know what to say. And he’s not saying anything.
I struggle thinking about what I want to do more: wait for the cops to show up and take Carla away, or leave and go find Marc and Emilie, and reschedule my plan with the cops for another day.
The logical answer is to stay and wait, but I feel my heart racing, my leg won’t stop bouncing, and the need to know what the hell is going on is too strong to ignore.
“I think I’m gonna go,” Carla says, pulling me out of my own head.
“What?” I ask, my eyes shooting to hers.
“Yeah. You’re all upset now, and I really don’t want to be near you as you flip out over some girl who doesn’t seem to give a shit about you. Open your eyes, Troy.”
I can’t hold back my words anymore, and they come flying out without a second thought.
“Open my eyes? To what? To you? Do you give a shit about me? Did you ever? You’re the Goddamn reason I have trust issues now!”
She flinches, my loud voice catching her off guard.
“Of course I give a shit, Troy. Why do you think I did what I did? I couldn’t imagine living another day without you. That’s love! That’s what love looks like. Not running off with some other guy, days after a break up.”
“You did what you did because you couldn’t stand the thought of somebody else having me. Because you’re a fucking lunatic! If you couldn’t have me, you didn’t want anybody else to. Well, you’re too fucking late, because I’ve been with plenty of women and each one of them was better than you,” I seethe.
She gasps. “Take that back!”
Rage fills my body as I think about everything she did to Emilie, everything she did to me, and the possibility of Emilie stomping on the pieces of my heart as we speak.
“You were never the one for me, Carla. You were a manipulative liar who only thought about herself. You’re even worse now.” My lip curls up in disgust. “My life would have been so much better if I had never met you, and had you never been in my life at all.”
A flash of sadness crosses her face before full on wrath takes over.
“How fucking dare you!” she screams. “You are fooling yourself if you believe any of those things you just said. We are meant to be together, Troy. Don’t you dare try to lie and act like you don’t care about me. That stupid bitch, Emilie is a piece of trash who isn’t worthy of your time, let alone anything else. The smartest thing you’ve done as of late is drop her from your life. She’s probably fucking that guy right now.”
“Shut up!” I roar. “How dare you act like you aren’t fucking out of your Goddamn mind! Are you fucking kidding me right now, Carla? I’m supposed to care about you? You’re nothing! Why would I ever care about someone who fucked my cousin in my bed? Why would I want a relationship with someone who is so fucking heartless? And please explain to me how I would ever want to even be near someone who tried to kill my girlfriend!”
My body shakes with anger and it takes everything in me not to throw her against the wall.
“I did that for you!” she yells with vehemence. “I told you that. I’d do anything for you, Troy. I can’t be without you and I won’t be.”
“You can’t force me to fucking be with you. I loathe everything about you.”
“No you don’t. Have you been talking to her?” she says with revulsion. “Is she putting this bullshit in your head?”
I shake my head. “You really are fucking crazy, aren’t you?”
“I’m only crazy about you, Troy!”
“You’re crazy about anybody that can do something for you. My cousin gave you dick when I was at work. I gave you security, but I’m not about to give you a Goddamn thing anymore.”
“I need you, Troy!” she pleads.
“That’s the problem right there. You say you need me, but I want somebody who wants me.”
She furrows her brows momentarily. “I do want you.”
“Carla, this is it. It’s all over. You need help.”
She shakes her head, giving me a confused look. She takes a few steps towards me before stopping.
“What do you mean?”
“You need help, Carla. It’s been five years since we’ve been together, and you came back and found me, and then found my girl. You became a different person and befriended her. You kidnapped her, and tried to kill her. You’ve been following and terrorizing her since. That’s not normal. I won’t be with you. Not only do I have no desire to be with you, but it won’t be possible.”
She comes closer to me. “Troy, no. You don’t understand. All of that, all those things, that was because I love you so much. I won’t do anything like that again, I promise. I need you. I want you! Please. Please don’t say it’s not possible.”
I take a couple steps back. “Carla, you have no idea how much control I’m practicing right now. When I found out it was you behind Emilie’s attack, I wanted to kill you. There is no getting past that.”
“But you… last night,” she pauses, tears filling her eyes. “Last night you said you wouldn’t be mad. You told me that it would be okay.”
“I lied. You should know a little something about that.”
“I’m not going to leave you alone, Troy. And if you even think about getting back with that girl, I’ll…” She hesitates.
“You’ll what?”
“I’ll kill her. I won’t fail again.”
I grind my teeth and ball my fists, and as I’m about to open my mouth, a noise from my right gets my attention. When I look over, I see a few cops entering the living room.
Carla looks over and when she gets sight of them, her eyes grow wider than I could think possible. She quickly snaps her head in my direction.
“You did this? You called the cops?”
“Ma’am, we’re gonna need you to come with us,” an officer says, his hand on his holstered weapon.
She ignores him. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me. After everything we’ve been through and everything I’ve done for us to be together again, you want me in jail?”
“What do you really expect, Carla? Come on. Think about it,” I say, exasperated.
The officers are slowly moving closer as she continues to stare at me in disbelief.
“You won’t be happy, Troy. She doesn’t even love you.”
I don’t respond to her. There’s nothing else I need to say.
“Carla Whitmore, you’re under arrest for the abduction and attempted murder of Emilie Watson. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law.”
She cuts them off as she begins screaming. “No! No, Troy! Why?” As the officer pulls her arms behind her, she starts resisting. “Please don’t do this!’
“Ma’am, if you don’t stop fighting, we’re going to add resisting arrest to the list of charges.”
He gets are arms secured behind her back, and she stares at me with tears running down her face. At the same time, I’ve never seen her look angrier.
“You’ll regret this, Troy.”
I look away as the officer continues the Miranda rights, and starts walking her out the door. One of the other officers stays behind to ask
questions and tell me that they heard enough of her talking that there’s no way she’ll be able to get off. They also say they’ll be contacting Emilie soon, and as soon as her name leaves his lips, my heart drops.
At a time where I should feel elated, I feel absolutely nervous. Did I just get Carla put in jail –for Emilie, just for her to be fucking me over?
There’s only one way to find out. I have to go to Marc’s house.
When I wake up in the morning, I almost forget where I am. The soft, comfortable bed is something new. I’m used to waking up with a sore neck and back.
I stretch my arms and legs before going to the bathroom and taking a shower. Once I’m ready, I make my way downstairs to the kitchen. I’m not sure if Marc or Thalia will be down here, and I hope I don’t make them uncomfortable if they are, but I’m starving. I need to eat and then make the phone call to the locksmith to get my locks changed.
Trotting down the stairs, I admire the gorgeous house like it’s the first time I’ve seen it. The sun is shining through the windows and glistening off the flecks of gold that are sprinkled throughout the floor.
When I arrive in the kitchen, I’m pleased to find that nobody is in here. I’d hate to make Marc uncomfortable by intruding on him and Thalia’s time together, when he clearly didn’t want anyone to know about her.
After finding some cereal and a bowl, I stand in the kitchen and look out the window while I eat. His kitchen window faces the back of his house to a gorgeous view of his backyard.
“There is a table for you to sit at, you know?” Marc’s says from behind me.
I almost spill milk from my bowl when I jump. “Oh God. You scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry,” he replies with a chuckle.
“I was just admiring the view,” I say as I turn back to look out the window. “I really appreciate you letting me stay here for the night. I’m about to call the locksmith when I go back upstairs.”
“It’s no big deal; however, you might want to check in with Troy.”
“Why do you say that?” I ask, as I turn to face him.
“He just texted me asking about you.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know,” he says, lifting one shoulder.
I huff out a breath. “I really don’t feel like talking to him.”
“Would you like me to?” he asks.
I give him a small smile. “That’s okay. I don’t want to involve you anymore than I have. I’ll talk to him. I’m just gonna call the locksmith first, and then head to the house. Are you able to take me back home, or should I call a cab?”
“Of course I can take you.”
“I just didn’t know if you still had… uhh.”
I stop talking, realizing I don’t know if Thalia told him she talked to me last night.
He gives me a pleasant smile. “I know you met Thalia.”
“Oh. Yeah. She seems nice,” I say.
He laughs. “She is.”
“Why doesn’t anyone know about her?”
Marc sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “It’s… complicated.”
Even though I want to ask a million questions, I don’t. It’s none of my business and he’s already been way too nice to me for me to be prying into his life.
“Okay,” I reply with a grin. “I won’t tell anybody.”
The doorbell rings, stopping our conversation.
“I’m gonna go grab that,” he says, making his way through the kitchen.
“Okay, I’m gonna run upstairs and make that call, and then I’ll be ready to go,” I reply as I follow him out.
He continues walking straight to get to the door, I make a left a little before the front door to go up the stairs.
“Was she here?” the angry voice asks from the door.
Curiosity gets the best of me, and I linger on the stairs, taking my time to get to the top.
“Now’s not the time,” Marc’s hushed but deep voice responds.
I take a couple more steps up and then stop.
“It’s a simple question. Did you have her stay over here last night?”
“I’m not in the fucking mood for this shit. I’m busy and I’m about to leave.”
I’ve never heard Marc sound angry before. I wonder who he’s talking to.
“You know…” the other man’s voice begins.
A terribly timed sneeze hits me out of nowhere.
“Who’s that? Is that her?” the other man says.
Fuck.
I quickly try to run up the stairs before I’m caught. Right as I get to the top, I hear Marc and his visitor’s footsteps below the staircase.
“Hey!” the voice calls out.
I turn and look down at them slowly. I’m sure I look like a kid who just got caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
“Uh. Hi.”
The man who stormed in here is actually quite good looking. He’s got dark hair, and he’s dressed in what I can tell is an expensive navy blue suit.
Marc looks annoyed. “Emilie, this is Lincoln. Lincoln this is my friend Emilie. She’s a good friend of Troy’s.”
Lincoln looks back up at me. “Oh, Troy. Of course. Hi, Emilie. It’s nice to meet you,” he says with a smile.
“You, too,” I reply meekly.
For some reason, I feel like I need permission to be dismissed. I continue to look down at the two men and wait.
“Lincoln is who we’re buying the club from,” Marc offers.
“Oooh.” Unsure of what else to say; I excuse myself. “Well, I need to make a call. Nice meeting you, Lincoln.”
I quickly walk to the room I stayed in, but before I can close the door, I hear Lincoln say something to Marc.
“Got yourself another one?”
What does that mean? Got himself another what? Woman? Perhaps that’s why he came over so angry.
Is that what complicated means? Is Thalia married to Lincoln?
Yikes. I don’t even want to think about that drama. I look up the phone number I need and make the call. After I’m done, I put all of my things back in my backpack and open my door open slowly.
I try to listen and make sure they aren’t down there fighting or anything. When all I hear is silence, I creep down the stairs and wait for Marc to appear.
The doorbell rings. Oh great. Another man looking for his woman over at Marc’s house? A thought hits me. Maybe Lincoln found out his wife or girlfriend has been using Marc as an escort. Maybe that’s why he’s so upset.
The doorbell rings again, but Marc still doesn’t come down stairs.
Whoever it is will have to leave eventually, because I’m definitely not opening his door.
“Marc, open the door. I need to talk to you.”
The voice on the other side of the door shocks me out of my seat. I hop up as soon as I hear it.
It’s Troy.
Fuck.
I very slowly and carefully make my way to the room that holds the piano since it’s right near the front door. I get to the window and barely lift one panel of the blinds and look out. At first I don’t see anybody, but suddenly Troy is there. He’s running his hands over his head and face and looks like he’s in complete distress.
Something’s wrong, but I can’t just open the door. What will he think?
He paces back and forth and finally disappears near the door and out of my sight. I continue to watch the space outside anyway. After a minute, I see his shoes. He’s sitting on the step in front of the door, facing the street.
All of a sudden my phone rings. For the second time today, I almost jump out of my skin. The phone is in my pocket. Why the fuck do I have to bring this thing with me everywhere I go?
I hastily pull it out of my pocket and switch the ringer off, but not before I see Troy’s face flash across the screen.
Oh shit.
He was calling me.
My phone rang just a few feet away from him.
Did he hear it?
I
can’t even think straight. I slowly back away from the window, afraid he’ll be able to see me, even through the closed blinds.
Knowing damn well that Marc and I have had nothing going on, and that this little sleepover was as innocent as two five year old girl’s sleepover, something tells me Troy won’t believe that.
He’ll automatically think I’ve betrayed him. All he knows is that women he loves and trusts, fuck him over. They fuck his family.
A banging on the door startles me, and I almost cry out.
“Emilie?” his voice is broken.
My phone starts vibrating in my hand. Troy’s calling me again.
The doorbell rings several times in a row, and I finally hear Marc coming down the stairs. I stop at the edge of the room I’m in and wave my hands at him to get his attention. When he spots me, his brows furrow in confusion. I signal him over and bring a finger to my lips.
“It’s Troy,” I whisper so lowly I wonder if any sound actually came out.
“We can’t ignore him forever,” he replies in his own whisper voice.
I push the hair out of my face. “He’s gonna think…”
Marc lifts his hand. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.”
He walks away and goes to the front door. My heart leaps into my throat as I wait.
“Hey, man,” Marc greets.
Silence.
After what could possibly be the longest several seconds of my life, Troy speaks up.
“I know this might sound strange, but I have to ask. Did you pick up Emilie from her house last night?”
Silence.
Marc finally lets out a breath. “Troy, come in for a minute, and before you freak out. Don’t.”
I hear the door close, and I know that after they take a few steps they’ll be able to see me.
“Is she here?” Troy asks, and I can’t tell if he’s more sad or pissed. His voice is thick with emotion either way.
I step out of the room and face Troy for the first time in five days. As soon as he sees me, I can tell his heart breaks a little more. His face screws up into a look of complete disappointment.
“Troy, Emilie had an incident at her house last night. That’s the only reason why she’s here,” Marc says gently.
Unforgivable Sin Page 21
