“Oh,” I said. “Well, that’s okay then.”
Uncle Leon either didn’t pick up on my sarcasm, or chose to ignore it. “Anyway, he didn’t shoot me and we had a talk. I asked him not to tell you the truth about who he was until you’d had a chance to accept the truth about yourself. I could see he was broken up about the whole thing, anyway. You both needed time to come to terms with everything.”
“You had no right to keep that from me,” I said. “You should have told me that my boyfriend was a liar and manipulator. Then maybe I wouldn’t have made the mistake of falling in love with him.”
My uncle was quiet for so long, I wasn’t sure he was still there. “Maybe you’re right, Remington. But I knew if I told you, you’d walk away from him and never look back. You’re stubborn like that. And he seemed good for you. Byron says he looks out for you and makes you happy. I don’t think who your daddies are should ruin that.”
His words pinched my heart, and I wished I could see everything as simply and surely as he did. I pushed that wish away as the silliness I knew it was. “He doesn’t believe his father tried to kill me.”
“What?” Uncle Leon asked, sounding worried for the first time. “Where’d he get that idea?”
“His mother told him Arle wasn’t a drug addict and would never hurt a little girl. Worthy has his father’s autopsy report and it shows no drugs or alcohol in Arle’s system. He thinks we both misinterpreted the situation.”
“The boy doesn’t want to believe his father was a monster, I suppose. Arle was a good father before he got mixed up in drugs. He just had a bad night and he went too far. I’d doubt the validity of that autopsy report, anyway.”
“What? Why?”
“Hold on a minute, sugar. You’d better talk to Betty about this one.”
A moment later, Betty’s cinnamon sugar voice came over the line. “Sweetie,” she said. “Leon’s filled me in. I’m so sorry. I see Allison from time to time, but she never wants to talk about the past. I can’t honestly say if she has convinced herself it never happened or if she’s lying to Lawrence, but Arle’s death messed her up in some deep way. She became a different person and I’ve…well, I don’t want to gossip, sweetie. What’s important is that Arle was working for your daddy and he was using drugs and drinking too much. Allison talked to me about it at the time it was happening and I saw it myself. I wasn’t there the night he tried to kill you, but I heard the voice mail he left for your father, threatening both him and you, and I believe Leon’s recounting of events.”
I’d expected to be calmed by the evidence supporting my nightmare and Leon’s story, but I didn’t feel much better. “What about the autopsy? Worthy said it showed no drugs or alcohol in Arle’s system.”
Betty sighed. “Your father and a couple of his friends got Arle’s body out of his house and dumped it before the police even got wind of the murder. They dumped him in a river and his body washed up a week later. The body was in bad shape, but Allison, she didn’t want anyone to know about her husband’s drug habit and she bribed a county official to keep that out of the report.”
“You can really do that?”
“The county official was a distant relative and it took her entire savings, but she must have managed it.”
I almost felt bad for Worthy, but at least his father hadn’t tried to kill me when he was sober. Not that Worthy would believe me if I told him that. “Thanks, Aunt Betty.”
“Of course, sweetheart. I know you’re hurt and angry and I’ve no right to interfere, but Lawrence was always a sweet child and he’s grown into a good man. He takes care of his momma and his brothers. When the two of you played together as kids, his momma and I used to joke that you’d get married someday.”
“That’s sweet, Aunt Betty, but it doesn’t change what he did to me.”
“I know, Remy. I’m about to get off this phone and tell your uncle off for not telling you right away who Lawrence was.”
I forced a laugh and hung up. I dragged myself back to my room.
“Remy,” Bell said, just as Frankie said, “Are you okay?”
They were sitting on Frankie’s bed and I was sure they’d been talking about me and Worthy. I took a seat on my own bed. “I’m fine,” I said. “But it’s a long story and I’m exhausted. I just want—”
My door slammed inward and Byron stormed into the room.
I sat up straight and jumped off my bed. “What the hell, Byron?”
He grabbed my chin and twisted my face from side to side. “You’ve been crying. Are you okay?”
I jerked free of his grasp and looked him up and down. His knuckles were cracked and bleeding, but otherwise he looked okay. “Are you high right now?”
He sat on Frankie’s bed with a sigh. Frankie’s now empty bed, Frankie and Bell must have taken off as soon as Byron walked in. I’d have to thank them later for giving me space. “Worthy told me everything, Remington. He used us both.”
“Are you okay?” I asked. “He was your friend.”
Byron looked a bit confused. “Of course I’m okay. And he’s still my friend.”
“But he used you, Byron. He lied to you by omission.”
Byron shrugged. “Yeah, that was shitty, but I beat the tar out of him for it and we’re good now.” He shook his head. “I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same in his place. If I found someone who might be able to tell me where my mother is, I’d probably use the fuck out of them to find her.”
“Really?” I asked. “I didn’t know you even thought about her, anymore.”
He scowled. “She was my mother, Remington. Of course I think about her and wonder why the hell me and the others weren’t enough for her. But I’m not here to talk about that, how are you?”
“I’m sad. I wish I could just beat him up and go back to the way things were before, but I don’t think it’s that easy.”
Byron nodded. “Yeah, I get that. What he did was all kinds of messed up. I want to be pissed at him for not being more open with you, but if it weren’t for him, you’d still be having nightmares and thinking you’re crazy.”
“I never thought I was crazy.”
Byron gave me a disbelieving look. “Sure, you didn’t. Anyway, he’s a good guy. He’s been there for me in the past and he’s saved my ass more than once when I was drunk and stupid. Whatever he kept from me, he made up for it. If you think about it, I suspect you’ll realize the same.”
“How can you say that?” A part of me wished I could believe in Worthy and just let it go, but the sensible, logical part of me understood that was impossible. “How can you believe anything he did wasn’t just a way to get you to trust him, to get closer to you?”
Byron stared at his hands for a long moment, before he looked up and met my gaze. “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe he’s a jerk who used me, and he’ll let me down in the future, but I’m willing to take that chance based on our past.”
“You have to realize there’s more at stake for me.”
He shrugged. “I get that loving someone is scary and a risk.”
“This isn’t about me being scared. It’s about me being a rational, logical human being who knows when to walk away.”
Byron smirked. “There are all kinds of ways to use someone and we all keep secrets, but I believe Worthy is a good guy, Remington. You know I wouldn’t defend him if I didn’t.”
“Even if you’re right,” I said, “and that would be a shock of epic proportions, he thinks Leon and I are lying about everything that happened.”
“You get why, though, right?”
“Because he doesn’t want to believe his father could be the kind of monster who’d hurt a kid,” I said. “But that doesn’t really change anything. And on top of all that, my uncle killed his father. His father tried to kill me. How do we get past that?”
“Far as I can tell, none of that has anything to do with the two of you right here, right now.”
A knock at my door had me leaping to my fe
et and rushing to the door in gratitude for whoever was distracting me from that conversation with Byron. Even for me there was such a thing as too much hard truth. I wasn’t ready to trust or forgive Worthy, and nothing was going to change that. I opened the door to see Bentley’s smiling face over a bouquet of flowers.
“Wow,” I said. “You don’t waste any time, do you?” I couldn’t deny I was impressed by his perseverance. “Worthy and I broke up less than an hour ago.”
“What the fuck, Bentley?” Byron shouted. “Get the hell out of here. She doesn’t need your bullshit now.”
Bentley ignored Byron. “I’m not here to try to take Worthy’s place. I thought you might be hurting, and I wanted to drop off these flowers to cheer you up.”
“That’s so sweet,” I said. Bentley looked good, his happy, uncomplicated face oh so tempting. But I knew it would just be an escape from thinking about Worthy and that wouldn’t be fair to Bentley.
“It’s not sweet,” Byron said. “He’s trying to get in your pants. It’s called a rebound lay. Get the fuck out of here, Bentley.” Byron sounded angry but he didn’t get up from the bed.
Bentley smiled over my head at Byron. “Careful with the language McKinney, there’s a lady present.”
“Is there a card with these flowers?” I took them from Bentley and looked them over.
Bentley’s grin widened and he handed me a card.
“An invitation to dinner,” I read aloud. “How sweet.” And it really was sweet and romantic, like something from a book. The problem was, no matter how happy I was to see Bentley, I knew he wasn’t the one I wanted. I shook my head to clear it of ridiculous thoughts. “I really like you, Bentley, I’m just not in a place to start dating anyone else right now.”
Bentley’s smile fell just a tick. “Maybe we can still hang out? As friends.”
“She said no, Bentley,” Byron hollered.
I ignored him. Maybe a friend was exactly what I needed. “Want to stop by tomorrow afternoon to study with me for a while?” I fully expected him to turn me down. “We could watch a movie after.”
“Sure,” Bentley said. “I’ll see you at seven.”
He left and I returned to Byron. I picked up his feet and plopped down onto Frankie’s bed, dropping them into my lap. “I thought you were team Bentley.”
“I’m team Remington,” he said. “Always.” He got to his feet. “You know where I am if you need me. Want me to send your friends back over?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Thanks, Byron.”
He nodded and left. A few moments later, Bell and Frankie popped in.
“I’ve got ice cream,” Bell said. She plopped down on the bed next to me and handed me a spoon. “Ready to talk?”
I found I did want to talk, so, I told them the whole sordid tale about me and Worthy. I didn’t like sharing his secrets, but I trusted them not to tell anyone.
“Wow,” Bell said, leaning against the headboard and shoveling in another bite of ice cream. “I can see it going either way. He was probably afraid that telling you the truth would mean losing you for good. I mean that is definitely a relationship-ending revelation.”
“Maybe,” I said. “But he had to know he couldn’t keep the secret forever. Did he think I’d be more likely to forgive him the longer we’d dated?”
“Maybe he thought you’d be understanding if you told him yourself,” Frankie said. “Maybe he was just trying to find the best way to tell you.”
“Or,” Bell went on. “He was using you to learn more about his father and continued to date you while he sought his revenge. Sounds Shakespearian.” She popped up and to her feet. “We need a board.” Then she left.
“What do you think?” I asked Frankie.
She smiled a little smile. “Do you love him?”
“I don’t know. I thought I did, but now…”
“If you love him, then nothing else matters. You should try to make it work.”
“I don’t think it’s that simple, Frankie. If he’s a lying manipulator there’s not really room for a happily ever after.”
“Okay, I’ve got it.” Bell bounced back into the room with a dry erase board and a bag of markers. “Let’s get started.”
“Um, get started on what?” I asked.
“We’re going to list the evidence and determine whether Worthy is guilty or innocent. Like they do on those police dramas on T.V. Frankie’s the list-maker, so she gets control of the markers.” She handed Frankie the markers and then she took down the mirror over Frankie’s dresser and hung the board in its place.
“I really don’t think…” I said, but Frankie was already on her feet and creating columns.
After an hour of recording evidence, we were no closer to a conclusion about Worthy’s guilt or innocence. I wasn’t sure it mattered. Whether he’d acted with malicious intent or not, Worthy had kept major information from me. That made him untrustworthy. It was as simple as that.
I was tired and hungry for some real food. Frankie had snuck out after the first fifteen minutes for a date with Duran, and Bell had been relentlessly rehashing every detail of my relationship with Worthy. I was more confused than I’d been when we started, and I wished Worthy was there. I wanted him to wrap his big arms around me and kiss me on the top of my head and tell me it would all be alright. And I’d believe him, because when I was in his arms, I could believe anything.
I shook my head, realizing where my mind had gone, and tried to remember that I didn’t need him. He’d lied and manipulated me and I was better off without him. “Pizza,” I said, giving in to the needs of my body and my mind. Food for one and distraction for the other.
Bell looked up from the board like she’d forgotten I was there. “Sorry,” she said. “Shit, I’m sorry, Remy. I just…I just got caught up in the details of the whole thing and I kind of, well, I…”
“It’s okay, Bell. Let’s just focus on food for a while.”
Bell nodded, her cheeks pink. “I’ve still got that movie we didn’t watch the other night. The zombie one?”
“Perfect. You get the movie and I’ll order the pizza.”
***
When a knock sounded at my door the next evening, I opened it, expecting to see Bentley’s easy, slightly cocky smile. Instead, I was greeted by Worthy’s frown. He had a black eye and a split lip and he was standing stiffly enough that I figured Byron had gotten some good hits to his ribs, but he was standing and alive.
Even frowning and injured, he looked so good that I wanted to wrap my arms around him and take the pain from his eyes and tell him everything would be okay. But it wouldn’t be okay. He wasn’t the guy I’d thought he was.
“Bentley said he was seeing you this afternoon.” Worthy’s jaw was tense and his hands were fisted like he was ready to fight. I was in sweats, did he really think I was about to go out on a date? I may not be the most fashion-conscious person – actually I was in a fashion coma according to Frankie and Selene – but even I knew one didn’t wear sweats on a date. I could have told him I wasn’t dating Bentley, I could have eased the lines from his brow, but I didn’t want to. He’d hurt me and he’d betrayed me, and I wanted to punish him for that. Plus, I knew we couldn’t be a couple anymore and Bentley was as good an excuse as any to end things.
“Who I date isn’t any of your business.”
“No,” he said. He tried to take my hands in his, but I shook him off. He winced like I’d physically hurt him, but determination replaced the hurt in a moment. “No. You aren’t going to just end us like this. I love you, Remy. You’re all I’ve wanted from the first moment I saw you. I can’t stop thinking about you, or wanting to see you, or just plain wanting you. We can get past this.”
“Get past what?” I asked, my heart torn between pain at the loss of what we’d had and anger because he seemed to think our problems were surmountable. “You lying to me and using me? Or you calling me a liar and my uncle a murderer? Or the fact that my uncle killed your father and my father r
uined your life?”
Worthy pushed his way into the room and sat on my bed. “I’m sorry for the way I explained everything earlier, Remy. I know how it sounded. I don’t think any less of you. I think you had nightmares that seemed real to you, but they were just nightmares.”
“I recognized your father from those nightmares.”
He shrugged. “Because you’d seen him before. You’d met him.”
“So what happened to me, Worthy? Because something sure as hell did. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have flipped out that night at paintball.”
His shoulders tensed and he looked at the floor. “Your father was a criminal, Remy, and he involved you in that criminal life. I’m sure lots of brutal things happened to you.”
And just like that, Worthy had thrown my father under the bus to protect his. The trouble was, I couldn’t prove he was wrong. Nothing he said was false. My father was a criminal, and he had taken me with him on jobs. I had seen bloody, horrible things, and my nightmares were hardly proof of anything. If I was standing where Worthy was standing, I’d probably feel the same way. “I don’t blame you, Worthy, for wanting to believe your father was a good man. But don’t you see that we can’t be together, we can’t be a couple, as long as you doubt me and my family. Do you really want to sit across from Leon at Thanksgiving dinner when you believe he killed your father without reason?” Because, at the end of the day, if Worthy asked me to pick between him and my family, I’d pick my family, every time. I loved him, but I wasn’t going to turn my back on my family for him. “And it doesn’t change the fact that you used me and kept things from me, vital information. How can I ever trust you again?”
His face paled as though he’d just thought about family get-togethers and I knew he saw it my way. Then something hardened in his expression. “This isn’t over, Remy. You’re one of the very best people I know, one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. I’m not giving up on us.”
Remington's Tower Page 22
