This for That (Edge Of Retaliation, #1)

by Jewel, Bella

  I arrive at work and get straight into the swing of things. Andrea stops and chats with me about the other night, and how she found a super-gorgeous man to take her home, and then we get to work. It’s a busy day, and an even busier night, with a group of older ladies having their monthly book club meeting at the café. They’ve paid for us to give them all a three-course meal, so we’re run off our feet making sure they have the time of their lives. They do, of course.

  When the night is done, and we’ve locked up, I slump against the wall outside as Andrea has a cigarette. The other girls disappeared as soon as the doors closed, wanting to get home to their families. Fair enough, I suppose.

  “That was crazy.” Andrea laughs. “Who knew old people could be so damned hungry?”

  I chuckle. “I know, right? I swear we put out a hundred courses and not just three. My lord. They went nuts over that dessert. Great recipe, by the way.”

  Andrea made a gorgeous cheesecake with raspberry swirls. It looked freaking amazing. The ladies all gobbled it up and asked for the recipe, saying they’d never tasted anything so good in their lives. I had to laugh at that. Until I tried a piece, and holy moly, it was so delicious.

  “It’s my mom’s recipe,” Andrea tells me. “She used to make it all the time for my sister and I’s birthday. We love it.”

  “I can see why,” I tell her.

  “I suppose I had better get home and try to sleep; I’m opening early tomorrow. You’re not on tomorrow, so I guess I’ll see you the next day.”

  I wave goodbye to her, and then head down the street to my car. I can’t wait to get home, have a shower, and crawl into my bed. Tanner said he would come over after work, but honestly, I think I’m going to be passed out by that point. Still, having his hard, warm body beside me will be nice.

  I reach my car and fumble through my purse for the keys. It’s dark around here, because I had to park around the back of the café. I look for my phone when I can’t find the keys, desperate for some light.

  A hard body slams me against my car, a hand covering my head and smashing my face against the cool metal.

  I freeze.

  Everything inside my body stops, and for a moment I can’t think or do anything but pant desperately, wondering what the hell is happening?

  Then my fight mode kicks in, and I start squirming when I realize the person behind me isn’t letting me go.

  Something hard presses against my back. When I realize it’s a gun, I stop moving, terrified.

  “Don’t move,” the angry male voice growls. “Do not move.”

  “Please,” I whisper, terrified. “Take my car, my wallet. I don’t care.”

  “Are you afraid, Callie?”

  What?

  What’s happening?

  I don’t understand.

  How does this person know my name?

  “Who are you?” I stammer, my heart racing, palms sweating, and knees trembling. I’m so afraid I could cry and vomit all at the same time.

  “I could shoot you, right here, right now, leave your dead body in the alley for someone to find. What do you think about that?”

  Oh God.

  Oh God.

  He’s going to kill me.

  “Please,” I beg, tears bursting forth. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

  “I wonder if that’s what she felt, when your car came hurdling towards her. I wonder if she was desperate, just like you are right now. She didn’t get away. She didn’t get to run. Instead, you slammed into her, taking her life. Imagine if I do that to you, Callie. Take your life while you’re terrified. Leave you here, dead. Destroy your family’s lives.”

  This is about Celia.

  Oh God, this is about Celia.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt her,” I cry, too scared to push back, terrified of how it’ll go for me.

  “I’m not going to mean it when I pull this trigger, either. At least, that’s what everyone is going to think.”

  No.

  No.

  No.

  “Please,” I beg, my voice trembling and broken. “Please let me go.”

  “How you’re feeling right now is how she felt moments before you took her life. Now you understand. Now you feel it. Now you get how fucking terrified she was. Should I end your life, too?”

  I say nothing; I just clench my eyes closed and sob.

  Maybe I deserve to die.

  Maybe he’s right.

  Maybe this is the justice I should have gotten from the start.

  My whole body shakes, and I wait, I just wait for him to pull the trigger and end my life.

  I’m so afraid I have to swallow the vomit that rises in my throat, but I don’t fight. I don’t beg. I just keep my eyes closed and I wait.

  I wait to die.

  He leans in closer, and into my ear, he says, “I’ll make sure the rest of your life, you feel exactly like this. I’ll make sure you never rest for what you did to her. I’ll make sure you wish you were never born. I won’t end your life, killer. I’ll drive you to end it yourself.”

  Then he lets me go and in moments, he is gone.

  I stand against the car, crying, terrified, and unable to move.

  Then I sink to the ground, put my head in my hands, and I scream.

  I scream for her.

  I scream for me.

  I scream for everything.

  25

  NOW – CALLIE

  I stare at her headstone, reading the beautiful poem carved into the gorgeous marble. There are fresh flowers and a few teddy bears by her grave. It’s a lovely sight, warm and cozy. You can tell that her family adored her; you can see it in the effort they’ve put into this area for her.

  I’ve never come to visit her, never wanted to truly face what I did.

  But here I am, by her grave, on my knees in the dark night, ready to face her.

  Ready to talk to her.

  Ready to tell her what I should have told her a long time ago.

  This should have been the first place I visited. It wasn’t.

  She should have been first on my list. She wasn’t.

  “Hi.” I croak, my voice shaky from all the sobbing I did on the way over here.

  After what happened tonight, I know I have to find answers, once and for all, but mostly, I owe it to Celia to come here and talk to her. More than anything, I owe her that.

  “I should have come a long time ago,” I whisper. “But the truth is I was afraid. I was scared of what facing you would have done to me. I was scared that it would break me. You deserve me to be here, though. I have so much to say to you, Celia, but I don’t know where to start.

  “I didn’t even know you. I don’t know what you were like, or the sort of person you would have become, but I do know that when you looked into my eyes that night, I saw something. I saw pain, and regret, and something that had broken you so deeply you stepped out in front of my car.”

  I take a shaky breath, rubbing my face with my hands, and continuing, “I don’t know what happened to you, but I swore that I’d find out, and I will. You deserve someone to fight for you. You deserve that. Mostly, you deserve me to tell you how sorry I am. I’m so sorry, Celia. If I was paying attention, maybe I could have stopped myself in time. Maybe I would have gotten out of that car, and we would have talked. We would have become friends. Maybe you would have told me why you were there that night.”

  A tear runs down my cheek, and I hiccup softly. “Maybe I could have saved you. I can’t save you now, Celia, but I can get you the justice you deserve. I’ll find out what happened to you. I’ll find out if you were hurt, and I’ll find out who hurt you. I really wish you were here now, so I could tell you this in person, but I can’t. It’s too late. So, I’m sorry. I really am sorry. I will make sure you rest in peace, Celia. I promise you that.”

  I run my fingers over the cold stone, and then I push to my feet, straighten my shoulders, and take a deep, shaky breath.

  I’m ready.

  I’m rea
dy for this to be over.

  I know just where to start.

  26

  NOW – CALLIE

  “Where have you been?” Tanner asks, staring at me. “I’ve been callin’ you.”

  “Something happened tonight,” I whisper, my hands still trembling. “I need to talk to you, Tanner. There is something you need to know about me.”

  He studies me, really taking me in, his eyes scanning over my body and narrowing. “What the fuck happened to you?”

  “Someone attacked me. Someone has been bothering me since . . . Can I come in? I need to talk to you, start from the beginning.”

  His eyes widen and he growls, “Someone attacked you?”

  “Tanner, I’m okay. Please?”

  He nods, and I step past him and walk inside. We walk to his room and when we’re in, he closes the door and turns to me. “You’re freezing. Wait here.”

  He disappears into his closet and comes out with a jacket, handing it to me. I sit on the end of his bed, thanking him softly and wrapping myself in the jacket, then I glance at him and my stomach coils tightly with nerves at the realization that I’m going to have to confess the worst part of myself to him, and when I do, he may never want to see me again.

  I can’t hide anymore, though.

  I have to tell him the truth.

  “I have something to tell you that you’re probably going to hate, but I need you to know it, Tanner. I need you to know so you can judge for yourself whether I’m worth your time or not. Please, hear me out, and then you can say what you need to say, or ask questions, okay?”

  He nods, grabs a chair, and pulls it over, sitting on it and facing me.

  “I was sixteen when it happened. My parents had split up. My father abandoned me, and my mother cared only about herself. I was rebelling, I suppose you could say. My friends and I decided to take my mom’s car and go for a drive to the lake. We thought it would be super fun.

  “During the drive there, one of my friends spilled a drink on the floor of the car, a bright, colorful, alcoholic drink. They all started freaking out, and so did I, to be honest. Mom would kill me. I wasn’t drinking, nor was I speeding, but I turned around and reached back to find the can. When I looked back up . . .”

  My voice hitches and I drop my head, taking a shaky breath and trying to steady myself.

  “There was a girl on the road. She . . . gosh, she was so beautiful. But so broken. Time stood still; it really felt like everything happened in slow motion. She looked at me, and she gave me this smile, this look as if to say she was sorry, and then she stepped out onto the road. I didn’t brake fast enough, and I . . . I hit her. I hit her, and I killed her.”

  Dead silence.

  I don’t dare look up at him, terrified of what I might see.

  “Everything after that was a blur. I was charged and sent to a juvenile detention center for five years, and prison for one. Involuntary manslaughter. Nobody believed me when I said she stepped in front of that car, nobody, but she did. Everyone claimed she was happy, and bubbly, and had no reason to hurt herself, but I know what I saw. I looked right into her eyes—I still remember how beautiful they were. She was so broken, something broke her enough to push her to step onto that road.”

  I take a shaky breath and continue. “I served my time, and I got out. Since I’ve been out, someone has been bothering me. That’s what has really been going on. Someone wants revenge—the problem is, they don’t understand that I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it, Tanner. I’d never intentionally hurt another person. I’ve thought about her every day for the last six years. I’ve punished myself so heavily nobody could possibly punish me harder, but I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

  I look up and Tanner is watching me. There is a look in his eyes that doesn’t quite make sense to me. If I could guess, I’d say it was confusion. What has he got to be confused about? If anything, I expected to see horror, not this.

  “Tanner?” I whisper. “Do you hate me?”

  He stands, running his hands through his hair. “I gotta go.”

  He hates me.

  Oh God. I knew he would.

  “I’m sorry, please . . .”

  He looks at me. “It’s . . . I’m sorry, I need to clear my head.”

  Then he’s gone.

  Just like that.

  I’ve lost someone else.

  “ANY WORD FROM TANNER?” Jo asks, staring out the window of our car as we park across the road from Celia Yates family’s house.

  “No,” I say, staring at the beautiful, big home. She would have loved growing up here—anyone would. “No, nothing. I told him everything and he just ran out saying he needed to clear his head. I know what that means. He’s horrified, and why wouldn’t he be? He just found out I have blood on my hands, and I’ve been in prison.”

  Jo looks to me, her face soft. “I’m sorry honey.”

  I shrug. “It doesn’t matter.”

  It does matter, though. My heart aches. I didn’t realize I had come to like Tanner so much. I didn’t realize I had wanted it to go so much further. I thought he’d get it, maybe not understand it, but get it. Surely he knows I’d never hurt someone intentionally? I’ve thought a million times over in my head how it must feel to hear something like that from someone. I’ve pictured myself in his shoes. I’ve tried everything to put myself on the other side.

  Maybe he has a right to feel the way he does.

  “How are things with you?” I ask Jo.

  We’re waiting for Celia’s parents to come home. As we pulled up, they were leaving. I said we’d wait a while, see if they came back. Hopefully they don’t. I want to do this now, because the longer I leave this, the more it eats away at me. We’re still at a dead end with Chase, and so far, I’m all out of options.

  Jo shrugs. “Okay, I guess. I have something to confess . . .”

  I look to her, eyes wide. “What is it?”

  “The other night after the bar, when we went to their place and you and Tanner disappeared to the room, I was hanging out with Tatum . . .”

  “Oh, God. Jo, you didn’t sleep with him did you?”

  She scoffs. “No, Jesus! But we talked for hours. Gosh, we talked until morning and he took me home. The thing is . . . I don’t know . . . there was something there. Something really strong. Something I’ve never felt in my life. I can’t stop thinking about it, Cal. I can’t stop thinking about him.”

  I wondered how long it would take Jo to find someone who tugged on her heartstrings the way they were supposed to. She’s wasted so long with Patrick, it’s hard for her to know what she’s missing out on. Anyone with two eyes can see that her and Tatum have something.

  “What are you going to do?” I ask her, getting straight to the point.

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I mean, it happens, right? Besides, I’m not getting out of this easily. I’m sure it’ll go away; I’ll just make sure I stay away from him.”

  I exhale. “Jo, honey, does that make you happy? Honestly? Because it seems to me like you’re miserable. I think it’s time you really consider what you’re going to do about Patrick, and get yourself out of this situation.”

  “There is no just getting myself out of this situation—believe me, I’ve thought about it. It’ll cause an uproar I’m not sure I’m ready for. I’ll be entirely cut off, which, in the scheme of things, isn’t the end of the world, but I have no money saved and divorces can get messy . . .”

  “There is a way—there is always a way. I’ll help you. We’ll work it out together.”

  She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “I love you for loving me like that, but I just don’t think it’s that easy.”

  “And Tatum?” I question.

  She shrugs. “I’ll have to stay away from him. It’s just a crush; it’ll go away. It doesn’t help that I gave him my number, and he’s texting me. I really can’t help but reply, but then I feel like I’m doing the wrong thing to Patrick, you know?”


  “Yeah, I get you,” I tell her. “I wish you weren’t in this situation, so that you could be happy. You deserve to be happy. Especially with someone as hot as Tatum. The chemistry between the two of you is off the charts.”

  She sighs. “I know. When he texts me, I smile like a giddy little girl. I never felt that with Patrick; it’s crazy.”

  “I feel you.”

  “Oh, look!”

  I turn and see she’s pointing towards the house. Celia’s parents have returned. They only must have popped out for something simple. I stare at them as they drive their car into the large garage, and the door closes.

  I turn to Jo. “Are you ready for this?”

  She frowns. “No, not really. I’m terrified they’ll lose their minds at me, or even worse, they’ll be lovely and I’ll feel guilty.”

  “I’m not going to steal or break anything in their house, Jo. I just want to look. I’m not going to hurt or bother anyone.”

  She sighs. “You’re right; I’m sorry. I know you have to do this. Okay, so I’m going to go up and tell them I was in the car that night, and scope the place out as much as I can, see if there is any security?”

  “Yes.”

  She takes a deep breath. “Okay, here goes nothing.”

  She gets out of the car and walks across the road to the front of their house. She glances back at me, then walks up the steps and knocks on the door. I wait, nerves twisting my stomach. The door opens and Celia’s mom appears, smiling at Jo. Jo says something, her hands moving as she speaks, and I see Celia’s mom lose her smile. Then, she steps forward and hugs Jo. She hugs her.

  My heart aches.

  It really aches.

  That poor woman.

  I took her daughter.

  Jo hugs the woman back, and then pulls away and they continue to talk.

  While she’s doing that, I glance around at the large house. I study the windows, the doors, the fences, the neighbors houses. It looks fairly easy to navigate. It’s on a large block, so the neighbors aren’t close, and there are no front fences, so I can get to the front of the house fairly easily. The windows seem to have screens, but often garage windows or bathroom windows don’t have any—those would be my best bet.