Edge Of Retaliation : Books 1-3

by Bella Jewel

  “Honey—” she begins, but I put a hand up.

  “I know I sound crazy, Jo. I know that. This whole thing is crazy, though. If I told anyone, they’d probably laugh in my face it’s so outrageous. So, while it might seem far-fetched for me to think the absolute worst, I have to let my mind expand to the craziest things because, so far, it has been the craziest damn thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “You’re right.” Jo sighs. “We don’t know how far this goes. I still think you should go to the police, or do something for your own safety, but I also know you’re not going to. I thought about your plan, and I don’t think you should seek your own revenge, or play into their little game, but I do think you’re right, you shouldn’t tell them you know and you should look further into what they were planning for you. At the very least, you might get something you can actually use to charge them for this.”

  Yeah, maybe.

  “Thanks,” I say to her, my mind turning with the possibilities. “I’ve got Celia’s laptop; I’m going to try and crack it today.”

  “I’ve got a really good friend in IT. If you can’t get into it, I’m sure he can. Let me know if you need him.”

  “Thanks, Jo. I really appreciate your support.”

  She reaches over and squeezes my knee. “We’re in this together. We have been from the start. We will be until the end.”

  Thank god I have her.

  Because without her, I’d have absolutely nothing.

  That thought is utterly terrifying.

  “I’VE TRIED,” I SAY, slamming the laptop closed and looking to Jo. “It’s password protected and fingerprint protected. I can’t get into it. I’ve tried all the combinations I can and only managed to lock myself out for twenty-four hours. It’s so damned frustrating!”

  “Okay,” Jo says, grabbing the laptop. “You’re going to leave this until tomorrow. I’ll get Caleb over to see if he can get into it for you. Until then, we’re going to drink and eat pizza and try to forget this nightmare that we’re currently living in.”

  I stare at her, my body exhausted. I’ve been hiding at home for two days, trying to do as much research as I can. Trying to unlock the laptop, searching for Tanner and Andrea on Facebook now that I know their last names. It’s been chaos. I’ve managed to find information, though, pictures and status updates. I feel like I’ve swept into their lives and they don’t even know it. I went right back to the day Celia died, read their posts on Facebook, the love they seemed to share for their sister. It was heartbreaking.

  It made me feel so bad for them, and I wondered if maybe, just maybe, they are acting out of pure pain and aren’t thinking clearly.

  Then I tormented myself for having that thought because, dammit, they’re hurting me, and I’m still looking for a good enough reason as to why.

  Something to justify it.

  To make me feel like I deserve it.

  I don’t, though. I don’t deserve it. I know what happened to Celia Yates was partially my fault, but I also know there is a secret out there that even they don’t know. That will unravel this whole thing. That will make them see that I’m not the monster here. I’ll find that secret, or at the very least prove to them and the rest of the world that I’m not the monster they think I am.

  A knock sounds at the door and we both immediately turn to look at each other. Jo shakes her head and says, “If we’re quiet they’ll think we’re not home.”

  “What if it’s Pat?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “He’s working.”

  “Then who—”

  “Callie?” Ethan calls through the door. “I know you’re in there. I’ve been calling for days. You need to talk to me.”

  Oh, god.

  Hearing his voice makes this all so real, it makes everything hit me right in the gut. The truth, the cold hard truth. I look helplessly at Jo. “The door is locked,” she tells me. “He’ll go away.”

  “I’m not leaving,” he yells. “I know you’re home. Both your cars are there. You’re ignoring me, and I want to talk about it.”

  Talk about the fact that he thinks I’ve found out the truth. Talk about the fact that he’s been in on this the whole time. Talk about the fact that he’s a god damned liar. Yeah, I’m sure he has plenty to talk about.

  “He’s not going to leave,” I tell Jo. “I can’t face him, I’m not ready to lie. Not ready to put on a brave face. He’ll see right through me.”

  “Honey, you might not get a choice. He knows we’re in here, he may very well stay there until we have to come out, and considering I’ve ordered pizza to arrive soon, we’re not going to be able to hide forever.”

  My heart pounds against my ribcage, and I run my hands down my face, desperate to have an answer about what I should be doing right now jump out and become clear to me. Sadly, nothing is happening, and Ethan keeps pounding on my door.

  “I can’t face him, Jo,” I whisper, dropping my hands to my side. “I can’t. I can’t do this.”

  Jo steps forward, grabbing my shoulders. “Callie, you’re the strongest person I know. You’ve endured things that most people couldn’t even imagine in their worst nightmares. You’re tough and you’re resilient. You can face him, because you’re a god damned warrior, do you understand me?”

  I swallow and take a deep, shaky breath. Then I nod.

  “All you have to do is tell him you didn’t go into the house and that you’ve been sick,” she tells me. “That’s it.”

  “He’ll see right through me; he’ll know I’m acting different.”

  “Then you make something up,” she goes on. “You tell him you know he’s hiding something, you tell him you’re pissed because you’re confused, you tell him you’re sick of being tormented for Celia, you tell him anything you would have told him before, because it’s all true. You wouldn’t have thought twice about it, don’t now.”

  She’s right. I have always been incredibly open and honest about my feelings with Ethan, which means anything less and he’ll know something is wrong. I take a deep, shaky breath, push all my emotions down, and walk over to the door, opening it. Ethan is just raising his hand to knock again but slowly lowers it when he sees me. His eyes narrow immediately and take me in, slowly dragging over my body. He’s wearing his work uniform, which tells me he’s obviously just finished. He crosses his arms and tips his head to the side.

  “I knew you were here.”

  “What do you need, Ethan?” I ask, my voice hard even though inside I’m screaming.

  I’m angry.

  Damned angry.

  I want to tell him everything I think of him. I want to scream and yell and punch him. When I look into his eyes, I feel like I’ve been sucker punched in the belly. The friend who got me through the worst times of my life has been lying to me all along. He was meant to be there. He was meant to care. He let me down in the most horrendous way.

  I’ll never recover from that.

  “You’ve been avoiding me,” he says, his eyes scanning my face.

  Ethan Corel knows how to read me—he spent six years learning how my features change. He knows when I’m lying, he knows when I’m covering something, he knows when I’m happy and when I’m sad. Right now, he knows something is wrong, and unless I give him a good story, he won’t let it go. I need him to let it go. Because I need him to leave my house before I break.

  I’m barely hanging on.

  “I’ve been sick,” I tell him, “really sick. I haven’t been speaking to anyone.”

  “Bullshit,” he says immediately, his voice accusing. “You went into that house, didn’t you?”

  I exhale, and here begins the lies. “No, actually. I didn’t. I got some other information on Chase, so I decided to follow that up. I don’t want to risk going back to prison, so for now, I’m going to see what I can find without breaking and entering.”

  My voice is steady, calm, and I’ve thrown Chase in beautifully, cleverly, because it makes sense. It works.

  Ethan s
tudies me for a few moments, really taking me in, then murmurs, “I’m glad you changed your mind; it was a huge risk.”

  Yeah, a huge risk for him.

  “Yeah, I know. Anyway, I actually have been sick. I’ve not been able to go to work for a few days, I’ve been sleeping.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” he says. “Anything I can do?”

  What would I usually say to that? What would my normal response be?

  “Yeah, you could get me some chocolate.”

  His face lightens, just a touch. He knows how much I love chocolate, and he knows it makes everything better. He used to make sure I got some when I was in prison. It’s my weakness.

  “Chocolate isn’t going to make you feel better.”

  I shrug. “It might. It has to be better than the chicken soup Jo has been forcing down my throat.”

  There.

  That’s me.

  That’s Callie.

  Maybe I can do this.

  Maybe everything will be okay after all.

  Right?

  3

  “I can get into anything,” Caleb says, his fingers flicking over the keys and doing god knows what to get Celia’s laptop open.

  “Do you think someone has already gotten into this?” I ask the young whizz, trying not to lean over his shoulder too much, but I’m rather fascinated by what he’s doing right now.

  “Doubtful, it hasn’t been unlocked by the looks. I’m guessing someone tried and couldn’t, so they let it be. Most people don’t push too hard unless they have reason to.”

  I mean, that makes sense really. If Celia’s parents had no reason to suspect something was wrong, why would they go into her laptop? They probably tried and realized it was locked so they decided to just let it be. They had far bigger things to worry about, of course. Losing their daughter being quite enough.

  My phone buzzes on the table beside us, and I look down to see it ringing. Tanner’s name flashes across the screen. I haven’t seen or heard from Tanner Yates since I told him my version of the story. A story I thought he was hearing for the first time, only to find out he knew all along who I was and what I had done.

  My heart dips, and my stomach twists at the sight of his name. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Jo and I got really really drunk last night after Ethan left. I cried, I screamed, I yelled, and I swore that today when I woke up, Callie would be back in full force. I would not mope any further, I would seek the justice I deserved and, to do that, I had to leave my pain where it cannot affect me.

  I didn’t think seeing Tanner’s name would bring such pain to my heart, but it is, and it’s confusing as hell.

  But, I have to answer it.

  I would have answered it before I knew. I know that. He knows that.

  So, I have no choice but to follow through on that.

  “Tanner,” I say when I bring the phone up to my ear after flicking the green button upward.

  I walk out of the room as Caleb keeps working on Celia’s laptop.

  “Callie, how are you?”

  His voice is husky, and gorgeous, and it makes me weak at the knees. That’s quickly replaced by a cruel reminder of what he’s done, and it takes a few seconds for me to push the anger from my voice when I say, “I’m fine, how are you?”

  “Good,” he murmurs. “I know I haven’t called after what you told me. Could say I was ... confused. Can we meet up? Talk?”

  Is there some small chance that my story made Tanner see things differently?

  Maybe he’s understanding that I’m not a monster?

  I shake my head. Doubtful. He knows I’ve maintained Celia stepped in front of me that night since the court case, there is no way hearing it from me would have changed his mind. I’m being too soft. I have to stop. I’ll get hurt again, only this time so much worse.

  “Yeah,” I say, my voice scratchy as I fight down the emotions trying to claw their way up. “When?”

  “Tonight? My place. I want to talk.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you then.”

  I hang up the phone before he can say any more. A range of feelings are at war in my chest. Part of me wants to tell him I know everything, scream at him, abuse him, and then get over it. The bigger part wants to know what they had planned for me, it wants to throw their plans right in their face. I’m smart, I’ve had a long time to myself, a long time to trust my instincts. I could play this game harder than they ever imagined.

  Am I that person, though?

  Is that who I am?

  Who I want to be?

  “I’m in!” Caleb shouts, and I turn, rushing out of the living room and back into the dining room where he’s spinning around in the chair with a huge grin on his face. “It took a lot because it was fingerprint and password protected, but I’m in.”

  “Oh, my gosh!” I say, rushing over and staring at the screen where a picture of Celia and who I can assume is Chase is filling the space. They look happy, she’s utterly beautiful. My heart aches when I look at her, laughing, smiling, and the doubts begin to creep in. “Thank you so much!”

  “You’re welcome,” Caleb says, standing. “I enjoy a challenge. Tell Jo she owes me! Change the password and take the lock off so you can get back in.”

  “Thanks, Caleb! I will.” I smile, waving at him as he leaves.

  When he’s gone, I sit down at the desk with a racing heart. My skin prickles. My hands are sweating. I’m terrified and nervous and so damned scared about what I’m going to find on here. Worse, if I find nothing and I’m back to square one. I stretch my hand out to the mousepad and start scrolling.

  I look through her files first. There are a ton of photos, of family, of Tanner, of Andrea and her parents. Some of Ethan and Chase. I still don’t know how Ethan fits in, and because I can’t ask, I’m going to have to figure it out on my own. I flick through each photo, looking at them, feeling my heart sink with every click.

  This is killing me.

  It’s ripping my insides apart.

  When I’ve gone through the photos, I click on the internet and connect. Then I go into her browser history. I type in Facebook, but nothing comes up, her account has been deleted but it was worth a shot. I try Instagram and SnapChat, but nothing there, either. I search Google history, and my fingers pause over the recent searches.

  ‘Healing from HIV.’

  ‘Is there a cure for HIV?’

  ‘Living with HIV.’

  ‘Reporting a crime to the police.’

  ‘Plan-B pill locations.’

  I shake my head and click onto some of the searches. HIV? Did Celia have HIV? If so, how and where did she get it? Was it from Chase? Did he have it and not tell her? Is that why he’s gone? Or did someone else give it to her? A crime? Did someone hurt her? My mind spins with a thousand questions. There is no other history, and I click out of the internet and go into her emails. They pop up, and my heart aches when I see the last date of the last one sent was two days before she died.

  I click into them, there are only two and they’re from Chase. Any others have been deleted. These ones haven’t been read. She hasn’t seen them, which makes me wonder what happened between the two of them? Did she block him and he had to resort to emails? Was he bothering her?

  I click on the first one.

  Celia,

  Please talk to me. I’m worried about you. I know you have no reason to ever speak to me again after what I let happen to you. But I can’t go on. I can’t live with myself. Please, let me help you through this. Unblock me so we can speak.

  Chase

  I blink and shake my head, confused. What did he let happen to her? My stomach doesn’t feel right, like a weight is lying on top of it. I have so many questions, and none of them have good answers. Something really bad happened to Celia, something Chase knows about, but worse, something he allowed to happen.

  Celia,

  Tanner came by today. I thought for a second he was there for me, and I freaked out. I know you said you’d never
tell anyone, but I thought maybe you hated me enough to change your mind. I’m worried. I wish you’d talk to me, so I can help you through this. You can’t do this alone. Things are bad right now, Celia. I’m not doing so well. I might not be around, soon. I wish you would let me in.

  I’m scared, Celia.

  Please talk to me.

  Chase x

  Why would he be afraid of Tanner’s wrath?

  Why would Tanner be visiting him? That makes little to no sense. I’m sure Tanner wasn’t friends with Celia’s boyfriend.

  I click on Chase’s email address and read his full name. Chase Redford.

  Redford.

  Where have I seen that name before?

  I rack my brain, but I can’t figure out where I’ve seen or heard that. I know I have, though. I know that name, I just don’t know from where. Is Chase somehow closer to Celia’s family than I first thought? Do they all know each other? I don’t understand, the questions are killing me, but at least now I have something to work with.

  I know something for sure.

  I have to find Chase.

  He is the only one with the answers I seek.

  The only one.

  I RAISE MY HAND, IT trembles. I shake my head and lower it, taking a deep and steady breath, and then I raise it again. I’m nervous, I don’t know what’s going to happen when I come face to face with him. With the man that has lied to me from day one, not only that, but he’s been playing me like a masterpiece in his revenge game. I’ve thought so many times about how he must have something wrong with him to have been able to pull it off the way he did.

  Maybe he’s a sociopath?

  It’s questionable. Especially considering he did it all so easily, so effortlessly.

  My chest clenches, and I fight down the anger. It’s becoming stronger than the hurt in the last few days. It’s become so powerful I want to stab them all with a damned knife until they plead for mercy. Okay, that’s a slight exaggeration, but the fire brewing inside me is deadly, and it’s going to explode sometime soon.