Almost Innocent

by Carina Adams

  The house was eerily familiar, yet completely foreign. The walls that had once held years of family memories were now completely bare. The furniture that I’d taught myself to avoid, so I didn’t bump into it when I was sneaking out of the house in the pitch black, was gone, making the hall seem a lot wider than it ever had when I was a teenager.

  I headed straight for the kitchen at the back of the house, hoping that it would be the one place where my memories would stay at bay. Plus, Dec had offered me a beer, and to get through the next few minutes, I was definitely going to need booze. I reached for the light switch, turned on the overhead light, and froze.

  I’d known it would look different, especially since I’d spent hours sitting at the old table in Moira’s new kitchen. But different didn’t begin to explain it. Dec hadn’t replaced a thing. It was empty, cold, and depressing as hell.

  When Dec joined me, he looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

  “What’s wrong?” I regretted the question instantly. I had parked my ass on his doorstep, giving him no other option than to deal with me. No wonder he looked miserable. “I’m sorry.”

  He blinked at me as if just realizing I was there and headed straight for the refrigerator. After grabbing two bottles and twisting each cap before handing one to me, he leaned back against the counter, propping one foot over the other, and downed half his beer in one gulp. When he lowered the bottle, he stared into my eyes, searching. He shook his head.

  “What are you sorry for Gabs?” He picked at the label. “This time, I mean?”

  Years of agitation toward him returned instantly, and I felt myself tense. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  He cracked his neck. “Exactly what I said. Every letter you sent me was filled with bullshit apologies for one thing or another. You tracked me down and camped outside my damn door, so whatever you have to say must be important. Now’s your chance. What are you sorry for today? Global warming? The tanked economy? Harassing me when I’ve made it clear I don’t want you around? Get it all out so we don’t have to do this shit again!”

  I felt heat rise in my cheeks as a vicious combination of embarrassment and anger surged through my body. “Every letter? You read every letter but never felt the need to write back?”

  He shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. “I was busy.”

  “Busy?” I pushed out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, ‘cause life behind bars is so fucking hectic you barely had a moment to gather your thoughts, right? Never had a minute to yourself, not once in ten goddamn years, huh?”

  He tightened his jaw and gritted his teeth, clearly annoyed with me as well. Good. About fucking time, Mr. Calm and Collected did more than ignore me. “Oh, I had about a thousand minutes to myself every day. I just had better shit to do than write back. I’d said everything I needed to say. You should have gotten the point when I refused to see you.”

  Ouch. That hurt. I had convinced myself that he hadn’t written back because he hadn’t gotten my letters—maybe they’d been lost in the mail, or maybe the guards had destroyed them before he had a chance to read them. I’d told myself every lie humanly possible to believe he hadn’t read them and blown me off.

  “Fuck. You.” I put my bottle on the counter, resisting the urge to throw it at his head, and retreated a step.

  He looked down, finding his boots incredibly interesting. I wanted to run away and forget this day ever happened, but this might be my only chance to reach him. Forcing my emotions down, I stood there, refusing to leave until I’d said what I needed to.

  “I came here because I thought maybe, just maybe, we could talk like adults. My son would love to meet his uncle. And I miss the man who used to be my best friend.” His head snapped up, and he opened his mouth to no doubt argue, but I kept talking. “I’m not sorry that I wanted to see you. But I shouldn’t have come here. This is your home, and probably the only safe place you have left. You said you’ve had a long day—I’m sorry I made it worse.” I shrugged because there wasn’t anything else I could do. “I hope one day that we can move on and be friends again. That you’ll come meet my son. And that you’ll forgive me. For everything.”

  I couldn’t even muster the energy to offer a small smile. Instead, I met his eyes one more time, held them a second too long, and hurried back down the hall toward the front door. I heard him swear once, but the blood pounding in my ears drowned out everything else. The cold air was a welcome relief as I burst through the front door.

  Nothing about this day had gone as planned.

  Fingers wrapped around my upper arm as soon as my feet hit the driveway, and Declan jerked me around to face him. “I’m sorry,” he growled. “Okay? I can handle it here alone, but with you, it’s just too much.”

  He loosened his grip, and I yanked my arm away, staring at the house over his shoulder. That I could understand. “It was stupid to come here.”

  Declan ran a hand through his hair, which was now hanging down, framing his face. “You’re right. We need to talk. But…”

  “We’re never going to be able to do that here,” I finished for him.

  “I don’t know about never, Gabs. But seeing you in there tonight made me remember.” My heart constricted at the pain in his voice as he added, “I just want to forget.”

  My eyes moved over the house, zooming in on the second-story corner window. I half-expected to see the curtain pulled aside and an angry face glaring down at us. “He’s everywhere here.”

  “Only when you are.”

  That made sense, considering everything that had happened. It wasn’t fair to Dec though. I’d already hurt this man enough. “I’ll go.”

  He stopped me. “How about we go grab something to eat? Somewhere new?”

  I understood the words he didn’t say. Somewhere there wouldn’t be any memories waiting to haunt us. I nodded. We needed a new beginning, and I was willing to attempt anything to get it.

  We rode in his truck only because he insisted that he drive.

  “I’m a great driver, or have you forgotten?” I asked as he pulled onto the main highway.

  “Yeah, I remember.” He smiled lazily as if it were still something he did constantly. “Only ‘cause you learned from the best.”

  I rolled my eyes playfully and smiled back. Dustin had been too impatient to teach me how to drive. He’d tried a few times, but he spent the majority of the time freaking out. The last time we’d gone—

  No. I wouldn’t think about Dustin anymore tonight. I’d already given him too much time today, and I was done. I’d just smile and remember the fun I had when Declan took over for his brother.

  “I like to drive,” Dec continued, his left arm lying lazily over the top of the steering wheel. “It’s one of the freedoms people take for granted.”

  “Is it hard? Being out, I mean.”

  He shook his head, only taking his eyes off the road to spare me a quick glance. “Not really. Remembering I’m on my own schedule, that I can eat when I want, sleep when I’m tired, and go for a run around the block whenever I feel like it has taken some getting used to. I struggled at first, but it’s all good now.”

  We made small talk, commenting on the weather and wondering why it hadn’t snowed yet, comparing this year to those from our younger days, until we pulled into the lot at the small restaurant. This entire mill district of Watertown was new, developed after I’d moved away, so there was no chance we’d have to rehash old memories there. I was happy someone had taken the initiative to save downtown.

  We were seated right away, which surprised me since it was a busy Friday night. The waitress was sweet and bubbly, and probably making the assumption we were together like the numerous other couples in our section, she told us we were lucky because it was slow for a date night. Dec either didn’t notice or didn’t care, and when he didn’t correct her, I let it go too. It made me wonder though.

  As we waited for our drinks and looked over our menus, I brought it up. “Is there going to be an angry girlfrie
nd waiting for us when we get back to the house? Should I worry about my car being vandalized?”

  He didn’t move his eyes from his menu, but he stiffened a little. “Nope.”

  I waited for a few heartbeats for more of an explanation. When one never came, I pried further. “Does that mean there isn’t one or that she won’t trash my car?”

  He looked at the other side of the menu, ignoring my eyes on him. “There isn’t one.”

  “Are there two?”

  “Jesus, Gabs.” He rolled his eyes at me and finally looked up. “Subtlety was never your strong suit, you know that, right? If you have something to ask, just ask.”

  I shrugged. “I thought I had.”

  He adjusted in his seat. “There is no girlfriend. There has not been a girlfriend. I don’t foresee that changing any time soon.”

  The waitress dropped off our drinks just in time to hear his answer. I ordered dinner and sat back, amused as she clearly flirted with him. I wanted to pick on him about it because I would have tormented the old Declan unmercifully, but the grown-up version was much too serious to tease.

  As soon as she left, I pushed at my ice with my straw, unsure of what to say next.

  “How about you?” he asked. “There some chump wondering what time his girl is coming home tonight?”

  “God, no!” I laughed, shaking my head. “Men tend to run away from me as fast as they can.”

  He didn’t laugh with me, his eyebrows sliding into a frown. “How come?”

  “Probably the same reason you’re single.” I muttered.

  “You’re socially awkward and uncomfortable around women after spending a dime in prison too?”

  I coughed, choking on a sip of water. Wiseass. His lips quirked slightly as I laughed. “Yep. That’s definitely my problem.”

  “So you wrote a book? A real book?”

  Shit. Well, we had been having a nice time. “I’m writing one,” I clarified. “It’s not even close to being done, but I’ve got a good start.”

  He was nodding, completely interested. That would change once he discovered the subject, I had no doubt.

  “Don’t keep me waiting, Little G. Tell me all about it.”

  Before I could find the words to explain, a woman appeared at the edge of our table, her hands on her hips. I glanced up, almost not recognizing her. I’d been so preoccupied with Declan and our memories that I hadn’t stopped to think about the fact that we were in our hometown and would most likely run into people we knew. People who would not be kind.

  “Well,” Olivia Martin, or whatever her last name was now, huffed. “Isn’t this cozy.” Her eyes darted from Dec to me and back to Dec. She put her hands on the table, leaning down toward him. “I wondered when I’d run into you,” she sneered, voice full of hate.

  God, she was even bitchier now that she had been in high school. Hag. “Never would have been too soon.”

  Liv snapped her head in my direction, narrowing her eyes into little snake-like slits as recognition settled in. “I don’t know what’s worse. The fact that he has the balls to show his face around here or that you have no problem being around him. In public, no less.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I moved to stand, but Declan’s hand wrapped around my wrist.

  “Gabby,” his tone was full of warning, “leave it.”

  For him, I would. Fuck her though. “Why don’t you slither back to your table and mind your own damn business?”

  She scowled. “You are a piece of work, you know that? I tried to warn Dustin. I begged him to leave your ugly ass. But he loved you, said he was going to raise that baby, even though everyone knew it wasn’t his.”

  “That’s enough,” Declan snapped, but Liv ignored him.

  “And this”—she threw her thumb over her shoulder, pointing at my tablemate—“is how you honor the man who gave you everything?” She leaned closer, almost nose to nose, and I could smell the alcohol on her breath. “Not only did you cheat on him and mess with his head, but then you have dinner with the man who murdered him? You two can claim it was an accident all you want, but everyone here knows it was planned.”

  I felt the blood drain from my face. That fucking bitch. I fought for words that escaped me.

  Before I could respond, she was being lifted off her feet and turned away from our table. Two men had come out of nowhere. One had his hands full with a very angry Olivia, and the other waited until she had been carried outside before he turned back to us, white-faced.

  “Sorry,” the man muttered. “I didn’t know you were here until it was too late. She’d already seen you.”

  Declan nodded, replying so quietly even I couldn’t hear what he was saying. Every eye in the place was on us. Some people whispered amongst themselves; others tried to see if there was going to be more of a scene. I knew some of them had recognized us—the suspicious look I hated was clear in their eyes.

  “Let’s get our food to go,” Declan said to me, motioning to the waitress.

  Even she looked nervous as she approached, the flirtatious attitude replaced by worry.

  “Take her to the truck,” Declan told the man still standing at our table.

  I couldn’t move. I’d become used to the anonymity that life in a big city gave you, and I’d forgotten how one night in a small town could change everything. These people didn’t know me. They hadn’t known me, hadn’t known my story. Yet there they were, casting judgment anyway.

  Did Declan have to deal with this on a daily basis? I’d been worried that it wasn’t safe for him here, but I’d been so caught up in everything else that I hadn’t given his life another thought. He didn’t deserve this—he’d done his time. His slate had been wiped clean.

  You wouldn’t know it. Not by the looks on the faces of the people in this restaurant. They wanted him strung up and beaten in the town square. They hated him.

  Had they really forgotten that quickly? Dec was the good son. The kind soul who helped little old ladies carry their groceries. The straight-A student who talked about going to business school so he could figure out a way to bring companies into Watertown and get the unemployed back to work. The boy with a contagious smile who wanted to save the world but threw his life away to save mine.

  I wanted to scream at them, tell them all that their feelings were misguided. They had the wrong brother. Dustin was the evil prick, and we were all better off with him burning in hell. Fuck them. Fuck them all.

  Dec moved and stood in front of me, blocking the other patrons from view. “Little G.” His voice was full of authority, and I couldn’t help but look up. “I need you to stand up and go to the truck with Niall.”

  I scowled, shaking my head. “I’m not leaving you alone with them.”

  “Who?”

  “Them.” I motioned to the room I could no longer see. “The lynch mob.”

  Amusement danced in his eyes, but his face stayed serious.

  “I mean it, Dec.” I crossed my arms to show I was serious. “I don’t trust them.”

  He tore his eyes away from mine and surveyed the room. When he glanced back at me, I couldn’t read his expression. “You mean the old people?” His lips twitched, finding amusement where there wasn’t any, and I narrowed my eyes. He tipped his head. “Truck. Now.”

  “No. Not without you.”

  He shook his head. “You gotta stop worrying about me, Gabs. I got this.” He stepped back, giving me room to slide out of the booth. “This isn’t up for debate. You either go with Niall now and walk out, or in five seconds, he’s going to throw you over his shoulder.”

  “Real mature.”

  “You’re lucky I’m giving you a choice.”

  I grabbed my jacket and purse and slid out, bumping his arm roughly with my shoulder as I passed. I was so irritated with him and Olivia and the entire situation that I didn’t even think to glare at the people staring. After the man named Niall lifted me into the truck, virtually locking me inside as he stood guard outside my do
or, I realized that Dec had gotten me out and once again was facing wrath alone.

  Bastard.

  Years ago, I’d needed someone to shake me and make me see what I couldn’t—I was a stupid girl in over her head. I didn’t know any better.

  That girl was long gone.

  Half the time, I convinced myself she’d never existed, ashamed to admit I’d once been so foolish and weak. Declan would never forget her though. You could hide from the past, but you couldn’t erase it from the minds of the people who lived it with you.

  For a few minutes, an amazing and blissful few seconds, we had been two old friends catching up. Dec had stopped looking at me as if I needed to be coddled, as if I needed to be watched every second because I wasn’t capable of making my own decisions. It was awesome, and I wanted that moment back again.

  I took a deep breath, letting my mind wander to the woman who had ruined it. I hated Olivia. Despise-from-the-deepest-part-of-my soul hated her. I’d lie and tell everyone that what she’d said hadn’t hurt—I’d heard it all before, and I was too old to let someone else’s hatred bother me—but that was bullshit.

  Hearing those words again, the old accusations thrown back in my face, was brutal. I could run to the ends of the earth, and it wouldn’t be far enough to outrun the many theories about what happened that night. It didn’t matter what the police report stated in black and white or what Declan admitted he’d done; the people here would twist each little detail and make it a story to suit whatever need they had.

  That was one reason Grady and I left. There were more of course, but I wanted to protect him from the lies he’d hear about his parents. The “facts” that everyone stated with such certainty, even though they had no basis in truth, would hurt my beautiful boy.

  I would do anything I could to protect him. That was my job. That was the only job that mattered. God knew I’d done what I’d had to do to ensure his safety more than once.

  He wasn’t the only one who needed my protection now though. Dec was back and clearly not taking care of himself as he should. My friend needed me, just as I’d needed him all those years ago, and I would do whatever I could to pay him back.