Mason and I catch each other’s eyes for a second, letting the suggestion sink in, before shaking our heads to dismiss that notion.
“No way,” I say. “Why would Ryan kill his own father at Aiden’s house to frame him? Even he’s not that psychotic.”
“You’re right. Ryan might be crazy, but he’s not murder my own dad just to frame my archnemesis crazy.”
Slinking down into my seat, I lean my head on Mason’s shoulder, his familiar cologne giving me some semblance of peace. I’m glad Mason decided to wait here with me. There’s got to be an explanation for what happened. And none of us will stop until we know who really killed Greg.
2
When Brian finally strides back into the waiting room with the officers and lawyer he’d left with, Mason and I sit up with hope. But our hopes are dashed as he disappears almost immediately into the back with barely a glance at us.
Forever passes until Brian comes back out, alone, and sits with me and Mason. We’ve been here for hours now—it’s just past midnight. I’m exhausted, still paranoid every time an officer looks at me as they walk by, my head is pounding from the phones ringing shrilly, and my ass is numb from this stupid chair. If it was up to me, I’d ban this chair from every retailer across America—they’re literally torture.
“What’s going on?” Mason asks. “Where’s Aiden?”
Brian grimaces. “It’s all more complicated than we thought.”
Mason and I share a look. More complicated?
“When Aiden was arrested, they contacted his legal guardian,” Brian continues, “which was Greg’s wife, Paula, who informed them that she hasn’t seen Aiden in who knows how long now, and wants nothing to do with him. She painted an awful picture of Aiden, saying he stole from her, did drugs, ran away from home with his brothers, and so on.”
Liar. Sure, she wants nothing to do with him, but she absolutely wants something to do with the government’s child support checks.
“That obviously led to the question of where Jason and Jackson are, which Aiden refused to answer.”
And risk them going into foster care? I didn’t blame him. Every minute that goes by means that we’re closer to the police calling social services, if they haven’t already.
“Not only did my friend Alan have to get Aiden off a murder charge, but also a kidnapping charge.”
Mason and I must have matching panicked looks on our faces, because Brian quickly adds, “Don’t worry! It’s all been sorted out. Aiden’s been cleared of murder.”
I breathe for the first time since Brian started talking. The weight that’s been on my chest since Aiden was arrested lifts and my heart no longer feels heavy. He’s not going to jail for killing Greg!
Brian doesn’t wait for us to bombard him with questions, but just starts explaining. “His alibi checks out. He’s with Alan back there signing release papers and stuff.”
“What about the kidnapping charges?” I ask.
“Alan talked Paula into relinquishing legal custody, something about getting her charged with child endangerment for not reporting the twins missing since she said Aiden kidnapped them. I’ve agreed to be the legal guardian for all three Parker boys until Aiden turns eighteen in a few weeks and can file for guardianship over his brothers. Social workers are going to be checking up on us, though.”
Mason throws himself at his father and wraps his arms around him. “Oh my God, Dad. You’re the coolest.”
Brian pats Mason’s back before they pull away. “I wish Aiden hadn’t felt the need to shoulder all of this alone. If we had known before about the custody situation, Vince or I would’ve stepped in sooner.”
Mason and Julian’s dads are such good people. It makes me wonder what my dad would’ve done in this situation if he hadn’t died. It gives me comfort to think that before the fighting with my mom and the drinking started, he would’ve done the same thing.
“How long will the paperwork take? Is Aiden almost done?”
Brian doesn’t need to answer me, because Mason abruptly stands up, focused on the hallway ahead of us, a giant grin on his face.
I practically jump out of my chair, and am beside Mason in an instant. Aiden, in all his intense, tall, confident, broad-shouldered glory, is being led toward us by an officer, Alan the lawyer following them. Even though he’s spent a large chunk of the night in jail, Aiden looks irresistibly gorgeous, and my breath stops when his piercing gray eyes meet my hazel ones, his facial expression giving nothing away. Seeing him now, it feels like it’s been ages since I’ve seen him, even though our kiss was only a few hours ago. They stop just behind the reception desk, where the officer says something to Aiden, who still hasn’t broken eye contact with me, and the officer gestures that he’s free to go.
Aiden takes a few steps toward us and is barely able to rub his wrists where the handcuffs must have been before I launch myself at him. A feeling deep down takes over, demanding I hold him, to make sure that he’s actually here and okay. He doesn’t hesitate and wraps his strong arms around me, pulling me close. With my head against his muscled chest, listening to the calming sound of his steady heartbeat, I assure myself that he’s actually here.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He releases me and gently tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. “Of course I am. Why are you guys still here? I told you all to go home and not worry.”
He and Mason do their bro hug. “We couldn’t just leave you here, man,” Mason says. “Everyone else was waiting, too, but in their defense, they were kind of forced to go home.”
“You guys didn’t need to come. No one needs to worry about me.”
This must be weird for Aiden. He’s the one who’s there for everyone else, making sure that they’re okay and taken care of. He’s the strong one, the one who holds everything together; having other people worry about him is something I’m sure he’s not used to.
“We care about you, Aiden. So we stayed.” My cheeks heat up because of the way he looks at me.
“And we never want to see you in handcuffs again,” Brian says, and then he hugs him too. A giant, comforting dad hug.
“Thanks for your help, Brian. You, too, Alan.” Aiden shakes hands with the lawyer, who tells him that it was no problem, and to call him if anything else happens.
“Come on, man.” Mason lightly slaps Aiden’s back while his dad talks to Alan. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
Aiden agrees, and we leave the place that almost turned more than one life upside down. As we walk out the exit, I can tell both Mason and I want to ask Aiden about what happened, but we’re too scared to. Despite his exhaustion, Aiden notices, and he knows exactly what we’re thinking.
“I’m too tired to answer your questions right now,” he says. “I’ll tell everyone what happened tomorrow.”
Makes perfect sense. He was interrogated for hours straight; we don’t need to subject him to even more interrogation.
“Need a ride, Aiden?” Brian asks. “Your house is still a crime scene, right?”
Mason’s about to offer his house for Aiden to stay at, but before he has the chance to say anything, I blurt: “You can crash in my guest room.”
I need the chance to sort everything out with Aiden—alone. He just found out literally a few hours ago that my name is Thea and that I’m hiding my real identity from a man trying to hunt me down. We didn’t get to talk about it, even though he said he was all in, that he understood, that he didn’t hate me. But I still remember how betrayed he looked, how betrayed he must have felt. Aiden said that he accepted me, the real me, but it’s only fair to him that I tell him my story—the whole story. He deserves that.
“Plus,” I continue before anyone can object, “your car is already at my house. It’ll make things easier for you.”
“Are you sure?” Brian asks. “If it’s a problem, Amelia, Aiden can stay with us.”
“No problem at all. What time is it? One a.m.? My mom will have just gotten home and will be as
leep by the time we get there since she has an early morning flight. She won’t have time to object.” I don’t add that I sent her a text saying we were all out watching a movie and that I’d volunteered to drive, and her only reply was K.
Either Aiden is so tired he really doesn’t care or he’s burning for answers, because it only takes a few moments for him to agree to come to my house.
Up until a few minutes before Aiden got arrested, I’d been avoiding him like a kid who’d received a bad report card dodges their strict, high-standards-holding parents. And now I’m practically begging him to come home with me so we can talk alone. Funny how things change in a matter of hours.
After saying good-bye to Mason, Brian, and Alan, we all head in different directions in the quiet parking lot, which is a stark contrast to the loud craziness of the police station. It’s a calm, cool night, but I feel anything but. Now that I’m alone with Aiden, sneaking glances at his broad frame as we walk, my stomach squeezes. Will my stomach always do somersaults when I’m around him? Will my heart ever beat normally when I look at him?
Before I can open the driver’s side door, Aiden’s behind me. Suddenly, we’re chest to chest, and he’s looking down at me, a lightness in his eyes and a tension in the air.
His deep voice is low and even. “We were interrupted.”
His closeness makes it hard for me to think. “We were?”
“Mmm-hmm.” His hands tug my hips to his. “I have no problem refreshing your memory if you forgot.”
He leans down and kisses me, roughly and fiercely, like it’s been ages since we’ve seen each other and all he needs to feel whole is his lips on mine. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer to me, needing to feel him against me. All the worry and tension I didn’t even know I was holding vanishes as we come together. He’s here. He doesn’t hate me. I didn’t lose him. The kiss ends way too fast, but I’m still left breathless when he pulls away.
I’m all in, Thea Kennedy. His words play in my mind, making me shiver. His grip tightens. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he says, his warm hands vanishing from my waist as he walks around the car to the passenger side.
As I pull out of the parking lot, Aiden calls Julian to see about picking up the twins, but Julian says they stayed up all night asking questions about Aiden and playing video games, and only now fell asleep.
Aiden rubs his temples. “Okay, let them sleep. I’ll pick them up in the morning and explain what’s going on. Thanks again, Julian.” He pauses, listening. “Yeah, I’m okay. See you tomorrow.”
We don’t talk, and the soft hum of the radio acts as background noise. The road has that late-at-night quality in which the lights are hazy, and Aiden leans back against the headrest, his eyes closed and body relaxed.
His presence fills up my small car, and he almost looks ridiculous with his long legs barely sitting comfortably under the dash. He’s sitting right there, and he’s not pressing me for answers. Not pushing me about Tony. Not asking me about the three people Tony killed. It’s equally hard for me to not ask him how he’s feeling. I tap the steering wheel and force my vision to stay on the road, not to drift over at Aiden, too nervous to ask him any questions despite the fact that he just kissed me.
“Thea,” he says, breaking the silence, his head still relaxed against the seat.
“Yes?” I answer, my heart skipping a beat at hearing my real name in his deep voice.
“The tapping is driving me crazy,” he says, eyes still closed.
I stop immediately. “Sorry, I’m just …”
“Anxious?” He lifts his head. “I know. How are you holding up? We didn’t have enough time to talk about your secret. You know I’d never tell anyone—you don’t even have to ask. But I was worried about you being in a police station.” He shifts in his seat and runs his hand through his short but messy dark-blond hair. “If those articles are a snapshot of what you went through, then being there must not have been the easiest thing for you.”
How much time did he have to go through the news articles of my past lives that I keep hidden in a shoe box? He’s either really good at puzzles or he got a really good look, because he’s spot on about my hatred of police stations.
“Normally, it would’ve brought up some bad memories, and I definitely wouldn’t want to be there for as long as I was. The smell. The phone ringing. God, even the stupid chairs are all the same. I’ve been let down so many times … but I was only worried about you.”
My voice erupts awkwardly, and Aiden asks, “Why are you laughing?”
“You literally spent hours in jail being questioned about a murder. You went through that whole traumatic experience of being arrested and interrogated and potentially going to jail. Your stepfather is dead and your house is a crime scene, and the first thing you do is worry about me?”
“I knew I didn’t do it, and I knew my alibi would check out. I didn’t have anything to hide so I wasn’t worried about being charged. But since I had nothing to do but wait, my mind wandered, and I’ve got to be honest with you—thinking about everything we’ve been through, I was mad for a moment. After opening up, trusting you, telling you things I’ve never told anyone. I was pissed thinking that you didn’t care, that my feelings weren’t being reciprocated.”
A tear slips out as my reply comes out in a rush. “I’m sorry. I kept those secrets because I had to. I wanted to tell you so many times, but I couldn’t.”
“I’m not mad at you, and I mean it,” he assures me. “But the more I think about it, the more pissed I get. Not at you, never at you, but at the circumstances. You shouldn’t have to go through all of this, not alone. What can I do to help? There has to be something we can do. Please.”
I feel like laughing and crying all at once. “You can’t help.”
“I can help. I’m Aiden Parker.”
“Not this time, Aiden.” I’m staring straight ahead because if I look at him, my heart will surely break. He can’t change what’s happened, what I’ve been through. The suburban houses all blend into one another, looking like one generic, mediocre house; every town I’ve been in the last year just like the others, none of them feeling like home until now, and only because I have Aiden and my friends. We’re almost at my house and I need to get out and breathe the fresh air before I burst out in tears.
“I can. If you would just tell me—”
“You can’t help!” I snap, instantly regretting my tone. “I’m sorry—it’s just—there are some things that even you can’t fix.”
“Why don’t you tell me and we’ll take it from there?” he says softly, placing his large hand on my forearm.
I pull into my driveway and shut off the car, then turn to look at him in the dark, his face illuminated by the glow of the headlights that have yet to turn off.
“It’s late. You’re exhausted. Why don’t we get some rest and I’ll tell you the entire story tomorrow, okay?”
“That’s fair.” He nods.
I quietly unlock the front door and we make our way up the stairs without making much noise. I’m not sneaking him in, per se, but I’d rather not wake my mother. I’m sure she’ll be suspicious when she sees Aiden’s car in the driveway when she leaves for work in the morning, but what’s she going to do? Move me to a new state? Oh wait, she’s already doing that.
Once Aiden’s set up in the guest bedroom, which has its own bathroom attached, I leave him so he can have a few moments of privacy, and find him something to change into. When I get back, I give a courtesy knock on the door and he opens it for me.
“I brought you an extra toothbrush and some toothpas—” I stop talking and openly stare at Aiden, who is standing in the doorway in nothing but his boxer briefs.
This is not a drill. Aiden Parker is in my house at night in nothing but his underwear.
My God, please tell me I am not salivating.
I force my head up so fast I probably give myself whiplash, and awkwardly thrust out my hand to give him the too
thbrush and toothpaste. Geez, Amelia, can you be any more embarrassing?
“Thanks,” he says, an amused look on his face. Dammit, he knows how hot he is and enjoys torturing me.
“I … couldn’t find anything for you to change into … unless you think you can squeeze into my pj’s.”
“I’ll just sleep in my boxers, it’s fine.”
“I have a sweater of yours, though. I never gave it back to you after that night we got locked out of the school,” I admit sheepishly.
I’ve been wearing it around the house (in a noncreepy way) mostly because it’s nice and big and comfy and warm. But also because it reminds me of him (again, totally not creepy).
He looks at the sweater in my hand but doesn’t make any motion to take it. “Keep it. I’m hot anyway.”
Hell yeah, he is.
“If you’re sure.” I am not going to fight that hard to give it back to him. It’s a really comfy sweater.
“I’m sure. Good night, Am—Thea.”
My breath hitches in my throat. “Good night, Aiden.”
3
In the morning, I sit at the kitchen island, not really eating the cereal in front of me. I’m alternately staring at the bowl then using the spoon to lift up the cereal and drop it back into the milk unenthusiastically. My mind isn’t on food but on telling Aiden about my past. What if he thinks I’m a coward for running and letting other people get hurt? What if he thinks I have too much baggage for him and decides he wants nothing to do with me? I have no idea how to tell him my mother’s forcing us to leave in the new year, and that means he’ll probably never see or hear from me again—because whatever my new name will be, I will have to leave Amelia in the past. She’ll cease to exist like Hailey Johnson and Isabella Smith before her. When Amelia Collins disappears, she can’t bring anything or anyone with her. I can’t bring anyone with me, and I can’t stay here. The court case and everything with Aiden’s stepfather is going to be in the news, which will make my mother even more nervous about staying here. She said as much in a few quick words before she left for her flight very early this morning.
Stay With Me (A Wattpad Novel) Page 2
