“I’m sure you’ve noticed the shiner I’m sporting?” Luke says with a noncommittal gesture at his face.
“I’m guessing it happened last night,” Aiden states more than asks.
“Afternoon, actually. But you should’ve seen the other guy.” Luke’s voice squeaks in what approaches a laugh.
“Around the same time Greg’s injuries also occurred?” Julian asks.
Aiden leans over the table. “Cut the bullshit, Luke. Why are we here?”
Luke sighs and slumps back in his chair. “As you all know, I’m clean now. I’m trying to get my life back together, but it’s hard. The friendships I’ve burned, opportunities I’ve ruined, relationships I threw away …” He looks at Annalisa, who looks away quickly, as if embarrassed to have been caught looking back at him.
He clears his throat. “I just—I want things to go back to the way they were before I got messed up with heroin, the way it should’ve been if I’d avoided falling in with the wrong crowd.”
Annalisa fidgets in her seat, no doubt trying to keep the promise she made before we left—that she wouldn’t explode on her brother. She’s one of the most stubborn and headstrong people I know. She’s determined to remain mad at her brother, so his emotional confession is probably driving her crazy. Julian grabs her hand and she noticeably calms down.
“But my life hasn’t been back on track like I want it to be,” Luke solemnly continues. “I slipped up. As part of my recovery, I committed to staying sober. No drugs, no prescription medication, and no alcohol. But yesterday, I was just sitting in my self-loathing, thinking of all the ways I fucked my life up, all the steps I could’ve taken to avoid Mom’s death, to avoid losing my sister, the only person who matters in my life right now …” He takes a deep breath. “I went to one of my old bars, had a couple of drinks—”
Luke shifts in his seat. “A couple of drinks in, some of my old ‘buddies’ told me that our old dealer was out of jail, thinking that I’d want to pick up some heroin. But the thought of that dealer had the opposite effect. I didn’t want any part of it, I didn’t want anything to do with him. In fact, I hated him. He got me hooked on the stuff; he ruined my life. He was the little devil on my shoulder, encouraging me to choose the drug over my family, over everything.”
I’m holding my breath. Beside me, Aiden tenses. Is he following my train of thought?
Luke runs his hand through his hair and winces, holding his arm close to his chest. “I didn’t really think—I knew I had to go confront him. I left the bar and walked around his old neighborhood, not really thinking about anything except my hatred of him.”
Oh God, please don’t say what I think you’re going to say. A large and comforting hand lands on my thigh, and it reminds me to breathe. I put my hand on top of Aiden’s without looking at him, entwining my fingers in the spaces between his.
“Eventually, I found him; he was already a little doped up. He smiled and said he’d known it would only be a matter of time until one of his most faithful customers sought him out. I didn’t think, I was just so drunk and angry, I threw a punch. We fought, and I don’t really remember what happened after that.”
“What are you saying, Luke? Why are you telling us this?” Annalisa blurts out, angrily wiping a stray tear from her eye.
He rubs the back of his neck with a little difficulty, looking solemn and regretful.
“I need you to know my side of the story, Anna. I wanted you to know how much I love you and how sorry I am for screwing up.”
Annalisa rears her head back as if Luke had delivered an invisible blow.
He takes a deep breath. “I don’t know if I did it, I don’t know how he ended up at Aiden’s house, or even how I woke up at home this morning. But I know how angry and drunk I was, and everything lines up. If I get arrested and thrown in jail for murdering Greg, I wanted you to know that I didn’t stop trying to see you. I’ll never stop wanting to be back in your life. But if I’m arrested, I don’t know if I’ll even be able to contact you, and I didn’t want you to think it was because I stopped caring.”
No one moves. No one breathes. We’re all just trying to process what Luke just admitted to.
He killed Aiden’s stepfather.
“Well, gang, I guess that mystery is solved. Back to the mystery machine?” Noah imitates Fred from Scooby-Doo as he loudly finishes off the rest of his ice cream.
“Noah,” Charlotte hisses beside him when everyone shoots him a look. “Now isn’t the time.”
“Just trying to break the tension.” He shrugs.
Aiden ignores Noah, his attention still focused on the man who basically just confessed to murdering his stepfather. “Where were you when you found him? How did he end up in front of my house? With my old cell phone?”
“I honestly don’t remember where I found him or how he got to your house. I’m pretty sure I didn’t find him at your house or even on your street. I don’t even think I killed him! But your cell phone …”
“You had his cell phone, didn’t you?” Mason realizes what Luke is saying, not trying to hide the accusatory tone in his voice.
“Well, yes, but—”
“What were you planning on doing with it? Keep it to frame Aiden like you did for Greg’s murder?” Chase narrows his eyes at him, and I squeeze Aiden’s hand, which is still on my thigh.
“What? No!” Luke defends himself a little too loudly, and the other people in the parlor glare at us in annoyance.
They probably think we’re just stupid, annoying teenagers getting into a heated discussion about something of little importance, like what the proper text abbreviations are, when we’re really discussing the intricate details of a homicide.
If only they knew.
Luke lowers his voice. “Look, I found it at the Tracks when the police crashed the party and everyone scattered.”
“You had my phone for almost three weeks, and it didn’t occur to you to give it back?” Aiden says.
Luke opens his mouth as if to protest, but Aiden beats him to it. “Don’t you dare say you didn’t know whose phone it was. Yes, it was locked, but my background picture is of the twins, and I know you know what they look like.”
“Yeah, okay, I knew it was yours. I never got around to returning it. I wanted to use it as an excuse to talk to you, to try to convince you to get Anna to talk to me. I must’ve dropped it when I got in the fight with Greg.”
Annalisa scoffs and crosses her arms. “That’s a stupid plan and it wouldn’t have worked anyway.”
Luke looks directly at her, then speaks only to his sister. “Lise, everything I do, it’s with the single purpose of getting you back in my life. But I don’t think I can fix this fuckup this time. I’ve been arrested before, my DNA and my prints are in the system. It’s only a matter of time until they link me to Greg; I’m probably the last person seen with him anyway. But I’ll never stop worrying about you, never forget about how much I screwed you over, no matter how long I’m in jail. You’re my sister and I love you, and no amount of hatred or resentment you hold toward me can change that.”
I’m not even his sister and still his words pull at my heart-strings. A few more tears escape from Annalisa’s eyes before she swipes at them violently, her eye makeup smudging slightly.
“This is stupid. We’re done here,” she states, trying to get up and leave but failing since she’s in the middle of the booth, surrounded by people on both sides.
She swipes some more tears. “Who’s the dumbass who designed a booth? Did they not think about how much harder they make it for people to storm off?!”
She stands up on the seat and places her combat boot–clad foot directly on the table despite our protests. She ignores us, stepping right up onto the table and walking on it, jumping off just to the left of Luke without looking at him, ignoring the looks of outrage and disgust being sent to us by the other patrons.
“Anna!” Julian calls after her as she storms out of the parlor and into the cold w
inter air.
“Guys, do you mind?” Julian looks at Noah, Charlotte, and Chase on his right, who all slide out of the booth so he can chase after his girlfriend. The three of them slide back into the booth once Julian’s left Sweetie’s, and we all look at each other, as if silently asking, So now what?
“Don’t you think you should turn yourself in instead of waiting for the cops to find you and arrest you?” Mason asks.
Luke shakes his head. “Have you ever been in prison before? I’m going to enjoy my time out here for as long as I can. Even if I didn’t do it, it’s not looking too good for me.”
There’s an awkward pause. What more is there to say?
“Is there anything else you needed from us, Luke?” Aiden’s face is still neutral and unreadable, his hand still in mine.
Luke slumps a bit in his chair. “Yeah, I guess that’s all. I just wanted to talk to Anna before I got twenty-five to life.”
He gets up and leaves dejectedly without another word or glance back at us, walking out the door with his head down.
The group of us sit at the table in stunned silence. Who would’ve thought the first few days of our Christmas vacation would be so full of drama? I don’t think any of us saw that coming. Not even me, and drama is kind of my thing.
“Now can we head back to the Mystery Machine?” Noah asks, trying to break the tension per usual.
“Do you think he did it?” I’m pointedly ignoring Noah.
“The police said that the primary location was Aiden’s house, which means Greg died there. They didn’t say anything about it looking like a fight took place, just that Greg looked like he’d been in a fight,” Mason answers thoughtfully.
“The evidence against Luke doesn’t look too good either. Plus, he basically confessed to it,” Chase reasons.
“But he doesn’t even remember what happened,” Charlotte points out.
“That doesn’t mean he didn’t do it. How many times have I gotten black-out drunk and not remembered how I got home, or why I woke up naked and covered in barbeque sauce and Cheerios?” Chase counters.
That boy seriously needs to cut back on the alcohol consumption.
“What do you think, Aiden?” I ask, squeezing the hand that still feels heavenly in mine.
“Honestly, I don’t care,” he says almost breathlessly, as if relieved to finally admit it. “Greg’s dead. Out of my life and out of the twins’ lives. I don’t care who did it, Luke or anyone else. They probably did me a favor, since I probably would’ve killed Greg if and when he came near the twins.”
“You don’t mean that, man,” Mason objects.
“Oh, yes, I fucking do,” Aiden confesses without a hint of doubt. “I’m glad he’s dead. And right now all I want to do is go to enjoy my time with the twins without having to look over my shoulder.”
I don’t doubt that Aiden’s glad Greg’s dead; he doesn’t have to worry about him anymore. Hell, my life would be a lot easier if Tony dropped dead, but clearly I’m not that lucky.
“What are we sitting around on our asses for then? Let’s go!” Noah exclaims, looking at Charlotte and Chase expectantly so they can get up and let him out.
As we move out of the booth, I try pulling my hand out of Aiden’s, but he just tightens his grip and looks at me with such a heart-melting intensity that I’m sure he feels my pulse speed up. I blush and look away, catching Charlotte’s eye in the process as we walk out of the parlor. I haven’t told her that Aiden and I kissed, not the first time or any of the other times after that.
She looks back and forth between our entwined hands and my face, a gigantic smile growing on her face, shooting me a look that says, Oh, you are so explaining everything after. At least she didn’t jump up and down squealing and clapping her hands.
If Noah and Chase notice, they don’t say anything. They’re in a heated debate over whether pineapple belongs on a pizza or not. But Mason—his gaze lingers on our hands, and for some reason my heart squeezes. Now’s not the time to dwell on that, though. Right now I just want to enjoy the sensation of my hand engulfed in Aiden’s.
The wind is biting and I bundle my scarf close to my chest. The streetlights illuminate the parking lot clearly, as well as the huffs of our breath. Groups of people are gathered in the parking lot of the arcade across the street, and we can hear their animated conversations from here. From the other side of the parking lot, there’s a screech of tires and doors opening and slamming.
I look at Charlotte as we walk toward the cars. “I’ll call Anna after she’s had some time to collect her thoughts and see how she is,” I say.
Aiden suddenly pulls me behind him with our attached hands and simultaneously steps in front of me, at the same time a malicious and familiar voice yells, “There you are!”
I peek out from behind Aiden’s tense back. Mason steps in front of Charlotte, and since Noah and Chase were walking in front of us, they’re the first ones greeted by Ryan and his friends. But Ryan isn’t even looking at them. His venomous gaze is locked solely on Aiden, the hate in his eyes plain to see.
“You’re a fucking murderer!” Ryan yells.
Before I even notice Ryan lunge, Aiden gently but firmly pushes me farther behind him and simultaneously steps forward toward the action. At the same time, Chase and Noah, being the closest to Ryan, grab him on either side, stopping him from advancing any farther.
Noah and Chase push him back, and Ryan fixes his jacket. Dave and another Silver who they’re always with, Ian, I think his name is, stand beside him. I can’t help but notice the remnants of a black eye Dave’s sporting haven’t completely healed yet. A small, victorious smile spreads involuntarily on my face. Is that from Aiden? I hope so.
My smile disappears, however, when Kaitlyn emerges from Ryan’s Mustang and hangs back a bit behind them, a scowl etched on her face. She looks tired and drawn, as if she hasn’t been sleeping properly.
“Calm down, Simms. I had nothing to do with Greg’s death,” Aiden explains evenly.
“Like hell you didn’t!” Ryan counters, looking less and less composed. “I know you were arrested! I know where his body was found. I don’t know how many officers you had to blow to get released, but I know you did it!”
I scoff out loud, and I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one either.
“Aiden is a thousand times smarter than you, Ryan.” I can’t help but interject, ignoring the warning glare Aiden’s shooting me and taking a few steps closer to Ryan. “Do you think if he was going to murder your father he’d be stupid enough to get caught? To leave the body in front of his own house as if showing off a prize?”
“Well, Parker’s whore, let me explain something to you.” Ryan takes a step closer to me, and I sense more than see Aiden also moving toward me. But I don’t care, all my attention is focused on squaring off with Ryan.
“Parker is trash,” he continues. “He’s a product of his filthy, trailer trash whore of a mother. He keeps company with you fuckwits because scum is attracted to other scum. It’s practically his destiny to get shanked and die in prison because that’s all he’s good for anyway. Those bastard brothers of his are better off jumping off a roof than continuing to live with him. They’re probably little incest babies anyw—”
Red. All I see is red. My mind shuts off and instinct takes over as I raise my fist and punch him with all I have, harder than during training, harder than when I practice on the punching bag, hard enough to cut him off midsentence and make his head snap to the side and throw him off balance.
“Fuck!” I hiss as I pull my hand to my chest. I forgot how much it hurts to throw that kind of a punch, especially when the target is a human face.
Before anyone even has time to process what happened, strong hands are on my shoulders, practically throwing me back into a hard body with open arms, as if they were waiting to catch me. The arms wrap around me, both familiar and comforting, but they’re not the arms that I basically know by heart, that belong to the man who takes
my breath away.
Aiden now stands in the place I was, and in the second it took him to pull me out of the way, Ryan straightens up and swings without looking at the target, aiming lower since he expects it to be little ol’ me, not the tall wall of muscle that is Aiden.
Aiden catches his wrist in his left hand with ease, automatically returning the favor and knocking Ryan straight to the ground, where he curses and moans.
I shrug off whoever is holding me and look back to see that it was Mason. Stay out of trouble, his eyes seem to say. It’s like he doesn’t even know me.
I get that Ryan’s primary emotion is anger, but I also know he must be in pain. I understand that he’s hurting—I really do. I lost a father, too, one that was great to me, even if he had his problems, and one I loved. But now Ryan’s lashing out at the people I care about, and that is not acceptable, even if he’s in pain and thinks it’s all our fault.
Aiden strides over to where Ryan’s laid out, fully conscious but clearly in pain. He crouches down and rests his forearms on his thighs.
“You can talk shit about me or fight me all you want,” he says, his voice low and menacing. “But you leave my friends and family alone. And you especially don’t talk about my brothers or lay a hand on my girl.”
He looks at Dave at that last part, too, as if proving his statement that no one messes with his girl—with me.
They both get to their feet, Ryan spitting blood out as he does. Kaitlyn comes to his side and wraps her arm around his waist but he pushes her off him and wipes his lip with the back of his hand.
“Listen, Ryan,” Aiden says, his arms at his side but still tensed and ready for a fight. “Greg was a shitty person, but he’s still your father, and I’m sorry he’s gone. But I had nothing to do with his death. The truth is, he was the last thing connecting us. With all of this happening, your mom’s no longer my guardian. We can all move on with our lives and drop whatever juvenile rivalry we have. Channel your hate into something productive. We don’t ever have to see each other again.”
Stay With Me (A Wattpad Novel) Page 7
