Unraveled (Twisted Series)

by Dani Matthews

  The officer looks at me with a bewildered expression. “Pardon?”

  I look at him steadily. “I was driving the car the night of the robbery that took Sean Mathison's life. Blake Thorton and Cole Randall are the ones that robbed the store. I was their driver.”

  “What?”

  I can feel the blood draining from my face as my shoulders tense. This was not how I wanted Tate to find out. Slowly, I turn to look at my brother and guilt slides across my features. “It was me, Tate. I was the driver.”

  He shakes his head, his expression incredulous. “What the hell are you doing? Are you that desperate to destroy your life that you'd make shit up?”

  “There was DNA left at the scene. It's Cole's. A bullet grazed his shoulder.”

  Tate stares at me and I watch as it slowly begins to sink in. The media hadn't been given that information and Tate hadn't shared it with me. I couldn't have known unless I'd been there and he knows it. Any color that had been left in his face now completely drains away as he stares at me with a stunned expression.

  The officer I'd confessed to looks from me to Tate uneasily. “You're related, so I need to take it from here. You know I need to take her in for questioning.”

  My brother looks like someone's sucker punched him. “Right,” he says hoarsely before he looks at me with shock still evident in his eyes. “Don't say anything. Not a damn word until you have a lawyer at your side. I'll call Bryant and have him meet you at the station.”

  “Okay,” I say softly.

  The officer squeezes Tate's shoulder in assurance. “I'll take care of her,” he says lightly.

  ***

  That night was the end of my life as I knew it. I was taken down to the police department where Bryant—my lawyer—went over everything with me before he sat by my side while I was formally questioned and then arrested. Because of the circumstances, I never got the chance to talk to my brother in private.

  I felt numb as I went through the booking process of having my prints recorded on file and my picture taken. Due to the lateness of the evening, I had to spend the night in jail until my arraignment hearing in the morning. It was bad being locked up, but not as bad as I had originally imagined it would be. I shared a jail cell with two other women and they ignored me. I spent the night curled up on the top cot in the cell, praying Noah was okay and that Tate would somehow find it in his heart to forgive me.

  The following morning I learned that a warrant had immediately gone out last night for Cole's arrest and they'd brought him in and booked him. It took eight hours of questioning before Cole finally admitted to his crimes, including Blake's death. He would be behind bars for a long, long time. He'd be old and gray by the time he finished serving whatever prison sentence he received. It was ironic that Cole would no longer have control over his own life after all the trouble he went through to control everyone around him. He'd abide by prison rules. They'd tell him when he could eat, sleep, exercise...

  Retributive justice, if you ask me.

  As for me...Bryant requested bail at my arraignment and the judge ruled in our favor. By two in the afternoon on Saturday, Tate was driving me home from the police station. Neither of us had said a single word to each other and I feared the worst.

  I wouldn't blame him if he hates me.

  When we pull up to the house, I realize I've never been happier in my life to see it. As I gaze up at it, it dawns on me that for the first time ever, I have a home. A real home.

  Or I had.

  I still have a trial ahead of me and for all I know, Tate might want me out of his life permanently.

  After Tate puts his truck in park and cuts the engine, he glances at me briefly before climbing out. I follow him and we go inside through the front door. The house is completely silent and I wonder how long Noah would be in the hospital.

  “Sit down,” Tate says quietly, motioning me towards the couch.

  Without a word, I do as he says and my brother sits down next to me. I look at him sadly. “It's okay. I understand.”

  He frowns. “I haven't even said anything yet.”

  “I know what you're going to say. It's written all over your face.” I draw in a deep breath and force myself to continue. “What I did is unforgivable, I get that. I'm sure you hate me and I deserve it.”

  Tate stares at me long and hard. “You're that insecure that you think your role in the robbery would destroy my love for you?”

  “Well...didn't it? Sean's dead because of me.”

  “Sean's dead because of Cole Randall. He's the one who pulled the trigger, not you. Yes, you played a part in it but it wasn't premeditated. Yeah, you should have bailed the second you realized Cole was up to something bad, but we all make mistakes, Blayre.”

  “You...but...”

  “I've had the whole night to think because God knows I didn't sleep for a second. I'm disappointed that your decisions have led you here to this point. I'm angry that you didn't come to me immediately, because if you had, the charges wouldn't have been as serious as they are now. You had weeks to come forward and you didn't. It looks bad, Blayre,” he says as he looks me dead in the eye. “But I also get why you didn't say anything. Cole was dangerous and Bryant will make that very clear at the trial.”

  “I'm so sorry,” I whisper as tears blur my vision.

  “I know you are and I forgive you.”

  My eyes search his. “After everything I've done?”

  “Yes. I still love you and I will stand by your side through the coming months. Whatever happens, we'll see it through together.”

  “I'm scared, Tate.”

  “Me too,” he says honestly. “I have complete confidence in Bryant, but there's still the chance you could go to prison.” His eyes shine with unshed tears. “I want so much for you. I want you to get better and live free and clear, with no more pain and guilt. More than anything in the world, I want you to have a real life.”

  “I want that too,” I say as a soft sob escapes me.

  Tate wraps his arms around me and hugs me tightly. “Whatever happens, I'll be there.”

  “Even if I go to prison?” I ask, my voice muffled by his shoulder.

  “It'll become my home away from home.”

  After a long minute we pull back and I wipe my tears self-consciously. “Noah saved my life last night.”

  Tate draws in a deep breath and runs a hand over his bald scalp. “If he hadn't left to go after you...”

  “I had no idea he kept a gun in the house. Or was it yours?”

  He suddenly gives me a wide grin. “I keep an extra one on hand here at the house. Noah wanted no part of learning how to shoot a firearm in the beginning when we moved in, but I talked him into it. I owe him a big fat “I told you so.”

  My eyes roll. “I'm sure he'll appreciate it considering he took a bullet to the shoulder. Speaking of Noah, is he still in the hospital? How is he doing?” I ask as I sober up real fast.

  “Go see for yourself. He's in his room resting.”

  I find myself hesitating.

  “Go. He keeps asking for you, even in his sleep. Blayre?”

  I wait.

  “He loves you, you know. I can see it now.”

  “I know,” I say softly before I warily rise to my feet and slowly make my way upstairs. I find myself pausing outside his door, bracing for possible rejection. I've done some horrible things and I don't expect everyone to forgive me as easily as Tate has. When I open the door, I find Noah slightly propped up on pillows, fast asleep. His chest is bare and a huge white bandage spans cross his right shoulder and part of his chest. The blanket has dropped down to his hips and I see he's clad in a pair of comfortable pajama bottoms.

  I slowly walk over to the bed and I hate how pale he looks. I also note the bottle of pills on the nightstand along with a bottle of water. He's probably out cold and the last thing I want to do is disturb him. I turn and head for the door but his voice stops me.

  “Blayre?” Noah asks from beh
ind me, his voice slightly slurred from sleep.

  I turn and meet his brown gaze. “Hi,” I say tentatively.

  He blinks hazily. “You really here?”

  I walk back over to the bed and stand near it so he can read my lips. “I was released on bail.”

  His eyes seem to clear up as they focus intently on me. “Come here,” he says, his good arm lifting and motioning for me to climb on the bed so I can cuddle up to his side.

  “Shouldn't you still be in the hospital?”

  “They released me two hours ago. I need to hold you.”

  “You do?” I wasn't sure how he'd feel about me after learning everything.

  His eyes search mine and something twists in their depths. “If I wouldn't have walked out on my job last night, you'd be dead. It was damn close, Blayre.”

  My eyes fill with tears as I weakly sit down near him and look at his bandaged shoulder. I don't know how I'd ever be able to go on if I knew he wasn't living and breathing. “You almost died because of me,” I say painfully.

  Noah reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.”

  I look at him questioningly. I still can't believe he seems to care about me even after everything has finally come out. There is nothing more to hide. He knows it all.

  “I love you. And don't you dare start in on how you don't deserve it or my forgiveness. No one is ever beyond forgiveness. And everyone has a right to be loved, all you have to do is reach out and accept it.”

  “I've messed up so much.”

  “But now you're going to make it right. It might be a long and tough road ahead of you, but you won't be alone. Now let me hold you,” he insists.

  I finally let out a soft laugh at his insistence and gingerly ease up by his uninjured side. His arm instantly wraps around me and I look up and meet his gaze. “Why did you leave work? For all you knew, I was really sick.”

  “I had a bad feeling. I'm glad I listened to it.”

  “Me too.”

  ***

  Things were hectic thereafter. As soon as the media got wind of the story, we had reporters camped out in the street. With Tate being a cop, it was easy to keep them at bay. Even though I'd had a hand in the robbery that took one of their own, the police department supported Tate, and in turn—me.

  To make a long story short, I was charged with accessory and there was a formal hearing. Bryant shared with the court my abusive past with my aunt and uncle, my self-mutilation addiction, my drug use with Cole and the abuse I suffered at Cole's hand. The last was easy to prove since my brother had gone behind my back at the time and secretly documented the incident himself. He'd even taken pictures of my battered face and ribs while I'd been sedated on those strong pain killers Marley had suggested I take.

  Bryant had me looking like an already messed up teenage girl when I'd moved here (which was true, I admit) and that I'd been suffering from the effects of past abuse when I'd been seduced into the wrong crowd. All my past secrets became public record but if it helped my case, I was now okay with the world knowing.

  With no prior offenses, the judge was more lenient than I expected. I was ordered to rehab and after that I would have five hundred hours of community service and would be on probation for two years. There was a part of me that felt guilty that I'd gotten off so easy while the other part of me is relieved. I don't think I could have survived prison.

  It's now a relief to me that everything is out in the open. There are no more secrets to hide. Do I wish things had turned out differently? Yes. Do I regret meeting Cole? In some ways. But in reality, he taught me all about the kind of person I didn't want to be. He made me look at myself and realize that the twisted girl he desired, was not the girl I wanted to be.

  I want to be the girl that pulls her life together. I want to be the girl that moves forward, regardless of her past mistakes.

  Hope

  The new day has come, and she will rise above

  it all with the glow of the new born sun

  Tate puts his truck in park and I swear my heart is going to beat its way out of my chest. I lean forward in my seat and gaze out through the windshield at the tall formidable building we are parked in front of. The architecture actually resembled a hotel rather than a rehabilitation center. The landscaping is full of green grass and shrubbery with a few flowers scattered around, giving the building a welcoming appearance. As I bite my lip and study what would become my home for however many months was needed, I feel nervous flutters in my stomach.

  Okay, so maybe it doesn't look as bad as I thought it would, but I had yet to step through those glass doors under the overhang.

  Tate glances at me from where I sit between him and Noah. “Remember, this place has a small pond and a garden on the property. When you need the escape, go for a walk.”

  I nod.

  A hand gently squeezes my shoulder and I turn and look at Noah. His eyes are reassuring before he opens his car door and climbs out.

  Since Tate is climbing out as well, I have no choice but to get out of the car and face the future ahead of me. Once my feet touch the blacktop, my body turns and I stare at the building before me with a measure of uncertainty. This was a fear of mine that I was about to face. I knew I needed it and quite frankly, I didn't have a choice in it since it was court ordered. But I've decided I want to walk in there on my own rather than feeling forced into it. I need to find a way to embrace this new chapter in my life and know that it will make me a better person in the end.

  Tate walks over to stand beside me and I glance at him. “I love you and just remember that we are only two hours away. You may be alone at the facility but you aren't truly alone,” he says firmly.

  A smile curves my lips. I couldn't have asked for a more supportive brother and through this whole ordeal, he's been right there, never faltering when things turned difficult.

  Noah sets my suitcase down near me and pulls me into his arms. I hug him tightly, never wanting to let him go. As I press my cheek against his chest, I inhale deeply, savoring his masculine scent. He didn't know it yet, but I'd stolen one of his shirts out of his hamper and packed it away. Yeah, it was kind of gross to bring a man's dirty shirt with you, but considering his cologne scent was all over it, I knew it would bring me comfort when the days were tough.

  I pull back and look at him almost anxiously. “I'm nervous.”

  “Don't be. They aren't here to hurt you, they are here to help.”

  I nod.

  He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, his eyes tender. “When you get the chance, write us letters on the days we can't come to visit. Let us know how you're doing.”

  “Okay.”

  He holds my gaze steadily. “I'm not going anywhere, Blayre. I'll be waiting for you. I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” I whisper as I say the words for the very first time ever. I had yet to even return the words to my own brother.

  Noah's brown eyes widen slightly and then he grins hugely before he pulls me up against his chest and kisses me senseless. I'm eager to return it since this is the last time I will likely get to do this until I am released from the rehabilitation center.

  Tate clears his throat with irritation from behind us. “C'mon, keep it PG-13 around me. You've got a life time to do that shit.”

  I can't help but laugh as I pull back and gaze up at Noah. Tate was right. I had a life time ahead of me. All I had to do was reach out and take it. I also knew Noah would still be there when I leave this place. We'd had a long talk earlier and once I'm done with rehab, we were going to slow things down and do it right. That meant real dates and doing normal things boyfriends and girlfriends do.

  I'm looking forward to it.

  My gaze skitters to Tate and he nods at me, letting me know it's time to take that last step and move forward with my life. With a soft sigh, I back away from Noah and pick up my suitcase. My head turns and I stare at the glass doors nervously where I can see a sharply dressed
woman standing there, waiting for me.

  Neither Tate nor Noah say anything. It is up to me to walk up to those doors and finally take control of my life. I glance back at them and swallow the lump in my throat. “Thank you for never giving up on me.”

  “You're not alone anymore, sis. We're here to stay,” Tate says simply.

  Slowly, I smile before I turn and begin to walk towards the glass doors, my suitcase rolling over cracks on the cement as I finally face one of my biggest fears. I pause near the door and take a deep breath before reaching out to pull it open.

  The court may have ordered me to come here, but I was now willingly walking through the doors—ready and willing to embrace my new life. It was time to leave the past where it belongs.

  In the past.

  Hope journal

  Today is a new day. It's another day at rehab of course, but every day brings me one step closer to my new life out in the real world. It's been over three months since I walked through the front doors of this building.

  Dr. Kinney thinks I have maybe four more weeks to go before I am officially released. Of course, that all depends on my progress. It's been a very long three months and the beginning was pretty tough.

  As of today, it has been seven weeks since I tried to harm myself. I've come a long ways since the days I couldn't go a week without feeling the rush of cutting or harming. Group therapy and one on one counseling with Dr. Kinney has really helped. In the beginning I hated it and pissed off a lot of people with my mouthiness. But now...I feel like I can finally breathe. Everything that was once twisted up inside me has begun to unravel. I am finally getting a grasp on my addiction and therapy is helping me deal with the years of abuse I suffered at the hands of my aunt and uncle. The very thing that used to scare me about therapy, has helped me begin to become the person that I eventually want to be.

  I am excited when the day comes and I leave rehab behind. I haven't seen my brother or Noah since they dropped me off three months ago. That has been my decision, not Dr. Kinney's or the staff. I've realized now that I need to do this completely on my own. Of course, the first four weeks of not having a choice in the matter helped. Dr. Kinney felt it was better for my mental state if I had no contact whatsoever with my brother and Noah.