by Elle Thorpe
I let the man go and slumped back on my side of the cell.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “You have no idea who I am, do you?”
“Don’t fucking care either.”
“You’ll regret that.”
I regretted a whole lot of things. But slamming his head against the cinderblock wall? That was the least of my concerns.
The small sliding window in the door of our cell opened, and a guard’s voice filtered through. “Michaelson. You’ve got a phone call.”
“Who is it?”
“Mae Donovan. Said she’s with your legal team?”
What the hell?
He paused when I didn’t move. Then sighed. “You taking it or what?”
My heart thumped erratically at the mention of Mae’s name. And for the tiniest of seconds, I entertained the idea of taking her call. Because there was nothing I wanted to hear more than the sound of her voice in this godforsaken hellhole I’d just put myself in for the rest of my life. But I couldn’t face her. Not after what I’d done. I couldn’t even imagine what she could possibly want to say to me, unless it was to tell me how evil I was. I didn’t need her to tell me that. I already knew.
I eyed the guard through the slit in the door. “I’m not taking it. Go away.”
8
Mae
Rain hit the church windows, fat droplets sliding down the glass windowpanes like the tears I’d spent five days crying. It had taken me an hour to get ready for Jayela’s funeral, painstakingly applying copious amounts of foundation and eyeliner, trying to cover my red-rimmed eyes and blotchy complexion. But now that we were here at the church, I was almost grateful for the days holed up in my bed, buried beneath the covers, crying for everything I’d lost. It meant that now, in the presence of hundreds of people I knew, I was bone dry.
“There’s a lot of people here,” Tori whispered loudly.
Will glanced across at her and frowned disapprovingly.
She rolled her eyes at me and whispered a little quieter, “If I can’t talk in church on the day we bury your sister, then when can I?”
I stifled a smile. Will really was a bit of a stick in the mud about church behavior. Tori normally was, too, having grown up in a strict Catholic family, but she seemed willing to make exceptions for me today. “I can’t believe how many people have turned up for this. I haven’t seen some of these people in years.”
Tori snuck a look over her shoulder from our spot in the front pew. “It’s almost like a high school reunion. And just like in high school, the jocks are all in the back row.”
I followed her line of sight, to the back of the room, and found she wasn’t wrong. Through the sea of faces, I spotted some slightly older but familiar profiles, mostly people I hadn’t spoken to since the day we graduated high school. Tori, Jaye, and I had all gone to Providence School for Girls, but the back row was full of the grown-up version of the boys from Edgely Academy, the boys’ school that had been linked to ours. Mentally, I ticked off their names in my head. Bradley Thomson, captain of the football team. Ryan Ranson, quarterback. My gaze narrowed on the third man; his cocky grin more familiar than I would have liked. Liam Banks, star baseball player. He laughed and joked with his friends, as if this was some sort of frat party rather than my sister’s funeral. “Ugh. I always hated that guy.”
Not entirely true, but it was the half-truth I preferred to focus on.
“Liam?”
“Yeah. He was always such an arrogant asshole. And judging by that suit he’s wearing? Nothing has changed. I wonder if his parents are still paying for his love of Armani.”
Tori cocked her head to one side, studying the man chatting with his friends. “I don’t think so. I heard he’s some big shot lawyer. Made partner at some crazy young age like twenty-five. Super accomplished in his field and well-respected.”
I glanced over my shoulder at him again, and of course, had the unfortunate luck of my gaze slamming right into his. I froze, then quickly looked down, embarrassed to have been caught watching him.
“He’s still really hot, though.” Tori grinned.
Will groaned quietly beside her, and she patted him on the leg. “Not as handsome as you, my love.”
She winked as she turned back to me. I had to stifle a giggle.
But then the guilt rushed in hard. Just like it had every time I’d even thought about smiling or laughing for the last few days. I sobered completely and faced the front. The priest was getting ready to start the ceremony, and I reminded myself that this was why we were here. It didn’t matter if Liam Banks and his all-star friends were in the back row. We were here to pay respects to my sister.
The priest took a few steps toward me and asked quietly if I was ready to begin. I nodded, giving him permission to go ahead. I was ready. My sister needed to be laid to rest.
Father Brian opened by welcoming the congregation, expressing his sympathy to all of us on the loss of our sister, our friend, our daughter. I stiffened, knowing my father would be here somewhere, and grateful that I’d so far been able to avoid him. I just didn’t have it in me today to think about him. Though I knew Tori had called him on my behalf and made sure he would attend. Jaye would have wanted that, even if I wanted nothing to do with the man.
My mind drifted, the service dragging on. I was too tired, too wrung out to keep my mind on Father Brian’s droning monotone. For days now, in amongst the grief, in amongst the silence that surrounded my place now that Jayela was gone, there was one thing my mind kept returning to.
Heath.
Boston claimed Heath had admitted to Jayela’s murder. But something didn’t feel right about that. I replayed over and over the look on Heath’s face when I’d found him that morning, covered in Jayela’s blood. The pure shock, the confusion, the horror. He’d been trying to save her. His actions weren’t those of a man who had brutally murdered a woman.
At least not until I’d accused him of the worst.
“What are you thinking about? Your face is weird,” Tori whispered, her hand on my thigh, squeezing gently.
“Heath,” I admitted.
“Here?” Tori shot me a worried glance. “Babe. You have to stop this. He admitted to it.”
“I know, I know. I was there. I heard what Boston said. But I just can’t believe that.” I glanced guiltily at my best friend and admitted something I hadn’t had the guts to tell her yet. Here seemed like a good place, where she couldn’t yell at me. “I tried to call him.”
Tori’s fingers dug into my thigh. “How?”
“I called him at the jail, pretending to be someone from his legal team.”
“Have you completely lost your mind?”
I was pretty sure I had. I was pretty sure the fact I was sitting at my sister’s funeral, obsessing over the man who had admitted to killing her, meant that I was certifiably crazy. “It doesn’t fit, Tori. None of it fits.”
“So what? You think the man admitted to a murder he didn’t commit?” She shook her head. “If you honestly believe that, you’re as crazy as he is.”
I knew what she was saying. To anyone else, my certainty that Heath wasn’t guilty didn’t make any sense. But they hadn’t known him like I had. You learn a lot about someone when they date your sibling who you share a living space with. And nobody had been there on Friday night to see that he was still that same guy. They hadn’t seen the way he was such a gentleman. He was kind, and caring. Jayela herself had admitted he had that protector gene inside him. She’d never been afraid of him. Hell, I was the most important thing in the world to her, and she’d happily left me at that bar on Friday night, because Heath had been there, and she knew that no harm would come to me while he was around. I trusted my sister. I trusted her judgment. She was an amazing cop, and she’d never once cast a shadow of a doubt over Heath’s character. There was just no way that he could insist on walking me home, then treat me with such gentlemanly manners, with the sole intention of getting me drunk, just to murder my sister.
That was the truly insane part about it all. Heath was a big guy, and he’d had four years of opportunity to kill my sister if that was what he really wanted to do. He could have broken into our home at any time. He’d proven he still knew the code to our security door.
But he hadn’t. He’d just been a guy drinking at a bar, who I’d brought home to my condo because I thought he was cute.
I couldn’t let it go. If I had to be a dog with a bone, then I would be. I needed to see Heath. I had to talk to him and find out what had really happened that night. I needed to be able to put this whole thing to rest, so I could get some peace.
9
Mae
I stood outside the church after the ceremony, making small talk with what seemed like a constant barrage of people who wanted to extend their sympathies. I was patted on the hand, the arm, the cheek, so many times that after a while, I really craved solitude. Couldn’t these people see I wasn’t in the right frame of mind for chitchat? Couldn’t they all just move on to the wake, eat some tiny sandwiches, have a few drinks, and tell stories about what an amazing woman my sister was? I wanted them to talk amongst themselves, while I disappeared into the crowd, no longer the center of attention. I got it. They were sorry for my loss. There was only so many times I could hear it before I just wanted to crumble. And I didn’t want to cry in front of all these people. I wanted to save that for when I was alone, for when there was nobody around to see me break down. These people, who I had barely seen in years, didn’t get to see me be weak like that. So I suffered through the line of people, just trying to keep myself together by forcing smiles.
The line finally dwindled, and I was in the light at the end of the tunnel when one voice froze me to the spot.
“Hello, Mae. This isn’t really how I wanted to see you again.”
My skin crawled. Tori sidled in beside me and grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight.
My father’s shrewd gaze slid from me to my best friend, and down to our joined hands. “Could we have a moment, please?” He gave Tori a pointed look.
“I don’t think—”
I’d known this moment would come. I’d known I’d have to face him today. I was prepared for it. “It’s okay. I’m fine. Go on ahead to the wake with Will. I’ll see you guys there.”
Tori grimaced, but she nodded and walked to Will’s side, taking the baby from his arms. He shot a worried glance in my direction, too, raising one eyebrow in question, but I gave him a small shake of my head, signaling he should go on. I appreciated their friendship, but this was something I needed to do by myself.
“I didn’t really want to see you at all,” I said to my father, picking up his conversation. “To be honest, I don’t even know why you’re here.”
“She was my daughter.”
A frustrated laugh bubbled out of my chest. “Oh. That’s right. The daughter you didn’t hate. Or at least hated a little bit less than me.”
My father shot a look around us, making sure nobody else had heard my accusations.
“Don’t worry, Dad. I know how to keep my voice down. I’m not here to air any dirty laundry. But don’t come to me now, acting like we’re long-lost family. We aren’t family at all.”
“Why do you have to be like this? Today of all days?”
I widened my eyes. “Why do I have to be like this? What did you think was going to happen by coming here? Did you think I would be so grief-stricken, so desperate for a family now that Jaye’s gone, that I would just fall into your arms and call you Daddy?”
The older man bristled. “I’m trying.”
“Trying?” I hissed. “It’s too little, too late. There is no trying. Not after what you did.”
“There are things we need to discuss. Things of a financial nature, if not a personal one.”
“Then you can talk to my lawyer. Because as far as I’m concerned? Jayela was the only reason I could possibly have for needing to speak to you again. Now that she’s gone, there’s no need for us to communicate at all.”
Embarrassment flushed the old man’s cheeks. “I see nothing has changed with you. Still as a willful and ignorant as you always were.”
“Yeah. Great, Dad. Thanks a lot. Always good to catch up with you, too.”
I spun on my heel and stalked toward the parking lot, storming past cars and the line waiting to exit the church parking lot onto the main road. It was only as I got to my car and searched for the car keys that I realized my purse was in the bottom of Tori’s stroller. I spun around, searching for their car, but it had already disappeared. Frustration roared through me, mixing with the emotions I’d been trying to keep a hold on all day. Tears pricked the backs of my eyes, and I slammed my closed fist into the side of my old BMW.
“You okay?”
I glanced up at the voice, surprised to find it belonged to Liam Banks. He stood leaning on the car parked beside mine, his iPhone in hand, thumb hovering over the screen as if I’d interrupted him in the middle of a text message.
I tried to breathe out some of my frustration and anger before I answered him. “Yeah. Fine. Just locked out of my car, apparently.”
Liam bent and peered through the driver’s side window. “Did you lock your keys in there?” He looked up at me with a ruggedly handsome grin that was tinged with a hint of mischief. The exact same grin I remembered from high school. “Want me to smash the window for you?”
I couldn’t help but smile at the extreme overreaction. That was such a seventeen-year-old Liam thing to say. All action, with little thought to the consequences. Despite how smart and committed to his studies he’d been, he’d also been impulsive and a little wild. “No. My keys are with my friends. I’ll just have to call and get them to come back.”
Liam eyed my hands, and at the same time, I realized I didn’t have my phone either. I sighed. “Well, shit.”
He chuckled, holding his phone out to me. “You can use mine.”
I shook my head, pushing it back toward him. “No good. I don’t know either of their numbers by heart.”
He pulled his navy suit jacket aside, placing his phone back in the pocket of his white dress shirt. “Sounds like you need a lift, then.”
Before I could even think about it, I screwed my face up.
Liam raised one eyebrow. “Wow. Is it my car that disgusts you so much? My suit? It couldn’t be my cologne because this stuff cost me five hundred dollars and smells damn good.” He winked.
“It’s not your cologne.” His cologne did smell damn good. Though he was probably wearing too much of it if I could smell it from several footsteps away. “And your car is nice. If a tad flashy.”
He clutched his heart playfully. “That cuts, Mae. That cuts deep. This car is my baby.” He straightened and went back to leaning on the side of it. “But if the car only mildly offends you, why the face?”
“Do you really want to know? Because it’s already been a long day, and my polite chitchat allowance has all but run out.”
He folded his arms across his chest, and I couldn’t help noticing the way his jacket pulled tighter. Did he still play ball? I had a sneaking suspicion that beneath his fancy clothes, he was still hiding the same ripped body he’d had at eighteen.
“I’m a lawyer. Anything you say to me, I’ve already heard. My skin is thick, trust me.”
“Fair enough. It was an automatic reaction. I had a throwback moment to high school Mae.”
He seemed amused by that. “Did high school Mae have a severe case of gastro? Because that face you made just before looked like you had some bad stomach cramps.”
“Did you just ask me if I need the bathroom? We’re at a church, Liam.”
He chuckled. “Fine. Explain the face then.”
“It was just an automatic reaction to my internalized dislike for you.” I held my breath, waiting for his reaction to my blatant honesty. I wasn’t normally like this. Any other day I would have made nice and hid any old feelings I might have had for the man. But I just didn’t have it in
me today.
“Oh.” He actually seemed relieved. “Is that all?”
It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. “I just told you I don’t like you, and you’re relieved by that.”
“Nobody likes me. Like I said, I’m a lawyer.” He grinned, and for a moment I thought about changing my perceptions of him. But then he went and opened his mouth again.
“But my money and my flashy car keep me warm at night.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course they do.”
He opened the door and motioned for me to get in. “Come on. I’ll drive you to the wake.”
I considered my options. Then determined I didn’t have any. “Fine. But this doesn’t mean I like you. You’ve just proven again that you’re still the same arrogant asshole you were in high school.” I slid onto the leather passenger seat, while he ran around to the other side of the car and got behind the steering wheel.
He threw me a sidelong glance across the center console. “I am still the arrogant asshole from high school. Just ten years older. And hey. For the record, I didn’t like you in high school either.”
My jaw dropped open. “What do you mean you didn’t like me? Everybody liked me.”
“What do you mean you didn’t like me? Everybody liked me,” he mimicked in a high-pitched voice that didn’t sound anything like me. But was so nasally and childish we both sniggered, before he continued, “You were such a goody two-shoes. I bet you still are. It cracks me up that you’re offended by the thought someone might not have considered you their best friend.”
