by Cassie James
“We need to talk about what happened last night,” Sadie announces in a flat tone before I’ve even gotten comfortable.
Jax shifts so that he’s leaning into me. I know he’s doing it on purpose, because he’s got plenty of room on the other side. With a huff, I scoot the other way. Of course, that just means I end up pressed against Patrick’s side. He glances over at me, then shoots a glare at Jax. He puts his arm around the back of the couch so he can smack his shoulder. It doesn’t actually do anything, Jax only chuckles and settles deeper into the spot. Patrick lets his arm settle behind me, his hand brushing my shoulder. The feeling of it makes my whole body tingle in a wholly inappropriate way considering why we’re all gathered here in the first place.
I can see Smith eyeing the whole scene, his eyes narrowing as things finally settle and I stay next to Patrick. Surely he can see why, though, as Jax continues sitting in a way that crowds me over. I’m choosing the lesser of two evils here.
Smith clears his throat, focusing back on the matter at hand. “Right, so Sadie was the last one to see Kathryn alive.” I can’t say that’s a surprise, but the next part is.
“I was trying to keep her from getting herself into trouble. She was wandering that whole fucking house, sure that you’d already found Hollis’ treasure and just didn’t want the rest of us to know.” Sadie looks directly at me, this part of the story obviously all for my benefit. I feel a heavy weight settle over me, like guilt, even though there’s nothing I can do about Hollis’ treasure. It was an urban legend around here long before I showed up. “I kept trying to tell her it didn’t matter, whatever it is, but that was all she cared about. She was going crazy about it, ready to start breaking things if that’s what it took. I offered her a drink to get her to take a break. I took her up on the roof because…”
“It’s your spot. You wanted to share it with her,” I finish for her. My heart breaks for Sadie as she chokes on a sob. She swipes furiously at her cheeks, stopping the few tears that have managed to escape. I can’t imagine how hard this is for her to talk about.
“Excuse me,” she murmurs as she stands up and flees the room. I start to stand to follow her, but Patrick stops me with his hand more firmly on my shoulder.
“Give her a few minutes. She hasn’t had a chance to breathe since all of this started.” I turn my head to study him, trying to tell if it’s sincere advice. I can’t say I would have been surprised if he was saying it just to sabotage me. But his face shows nothing but sincerity and concern. It helps that Smith doesn’t move, either, which has to mean he, too, thinks she needs a minute alone.
Jax stretches his legs out, drawing the attention to himself. He makes a big show out of not speaking right away, even though it’s obvious he has something to say. Finally, he speaks, “We’re ignoring the obvious answer, here. That Sadie probably did it. She is the one, after all, that came to us in a panic looking for our help.”
Smith jumps out of his seat, glaring down at Jax with more anger than I’ve ever seen from him. “Funny, but as I remember it, she came and found Patrick and me. We only stumbled upon you when we were headed upstairs. And you were coming down. So for all we know, you’re the one that did it.”
Jax scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous. Sit the fuck back down, no one’s scared of you looking like an angry boy band member.” He waves his hand dismissively. I feel a slight pinch of annoyance that Smith obeys, dropping back down into the chair with an angry thud.
Patrick rubs at his face with his free hand. “What about Celia?” He looks up, raising his eyebrows at Smith.
“My mother? What about her?”
“No one’s parents were invited, but she was there last night.” I furrow my brows, turning more fully to face Patrick, forcing his hand to fall away. I try to ignore the way my back brushes against Jax as I shift. Seeing my confusion, Patrick explains, “She passed through not long before Sadie came to find us. She looked pretty sketchy to me. What if she did it? You and I both know she has plenty of feelings about the Lexington place.”
“That seems like a stretch,” Jax interjects. He looks bored by all of this, which is more than a little insulting considering how serious of a topic this is. They’re accusing people of being murderers, and being pretty damn casual about it, too.
Smith mumbles something under his breath. “What was that?” I ask.
He clears his throat and tries again, “She came to talk to Juliet’s aunt. She wanted to make sure that Sadie wasn’t being allowed to drink. She knew Dad was coming home today and didn’t want Sadie to be hungover when he saw her.”
We all fall silent just in time to realize Sadie’s now standing in the doorway. Her cheeks are tinged pink with obvious embarrassment.
“Ironic isn’t it? Our alcoholic, pill-popping mother worrying that I might embarrass her.” I flatten my lips, unsure how to react at the moment. “What? Don’t act like all of you didn’t know. Celia Harrington is a shitshow, but she’s not a killer. Next theory.” She returns to her abandoned chair, crossing one leg over the other in an elegant way that I could never hope to replicate. She looks much more poised now than she did before she ran out.
“So,” I start slowly, trying to formulate my question the right way, “Sadie, you weren’t actually there to see what happened to Kathryn?”
She shakes her head no. “I ran out of booze. I…” She pauses, clears her throat, and glances away. “I snuck into the liquor cabinet in Hollis’ old bedroom. I was only gone for a few minutes, but when I came back, Kathryn was gone. At first I thought she just wandered off again, but then I saw a wet spot on the edge of the roof.”
Sadie shakes slightly, and Smith reaches over to put a comforting hand on her forearm. It takes her a second to regain the ability to speak. Whatever is coming next, I already know it won’t be pleasant.
“I leaned over and touched it, I wasn’t thinking.” She raises one hand, staring at it like a foreign object, like she’s remembering what she’s describing. “And it was blood. I got Kathryn’s blood on me.” She seems to lose her breath as she falls into silence, still staring at her hand. I press my own hand against my suddenly queasy stomach. Just picturing what she’s describing is enough to make my stomach turn.
Smith steps in for Sadie when it seems like she can’t continue. “That was when she came to find me and Patrick. We ran into Jax, he stopped us to have Sadie wash off her hand to try to get her to stop hyperventilating over the blood. When we went upstairs to try to figure out what exactly was going on—that was when Patrick looked over the edge and saw her.”
I feel Patrick shudder at the memory. My own heart-rate spikes as I remember exactly what he saw, because it’s the same thing I saw. And damn, do I wish I could stop remembering it.
“You found us shortly after.” Just in time to panic until an ambulance and the police were called. Because up until I got there, apparently no one had decided to do either of those things. I’m trying to blame it on shock and not something more sinister.
As I slowly try to piece together all of this new information, one question sticks in the forefront of my mind. If no one actually witnessed what happened, how do they know someone pushed her? “Couldn’t it have just been an accident? You all were drinking up there. Maybe she just fell.” All three guys turn to stare at me with bewildered looks.
“Did you do it?” Jax asks, a smirk on his face.
He’s really unbelievable. He’s not taking any of this seriously at all, and he’s still taking any chance he can get to fuck with me. Fed up, I raise my hand to smack him, but he catches my wrist mid-swing. He uses his grasp to pull me forward until I’m leaning over his lap, our faces uncomfortably close together.
“Careful, sweetheart. I’d hate to have to remind you of your place here.” He looks so damn smug. Like he owns the whole world and I’m just a plaything. I’m beyond done playing that game with him.
“I already know where my place is, and it’s right next door. Lexington Estate, maybe yo
u’ve heard of it?” His smirk falls away. I really push my luck, reaching out with the arm not in his grasp so I can pat his chest patronizingly. “Maybe you’re the one that’s confused. After all, I can’t imagine who actually wants you here. Patrick slugged you. Smith can barely look you in the eyes. And you weren’t the one Sadie went looking for when she needed help. So, what is it you’re doing here exactly?”
I’ve never spoken with so much venom before, but I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more than Jax Woods. All the anger I’ve built up towards him for all the bullshit he’s put me through these last months, it all comes spewing out at this moment.
“Nice backbone, Jessica.” He says it like an insult, but it doesn’t hit me like one. That was my name for a long, long time. It’s a part of me. And not a part I’m ashamed of or embarrassed about.
Jax shoves me off him and unceremoniously gets up and leaves. For a second, we all look around, confused and waiting for someone else to clarify what exactly just happened. After a moment, there’s the distinct sound of the front door closing.
“Was that really necessary?” Sadie snaps at me when he’s gone. “We’re supposed to be in this together.”
“In what, exactly? Because it seems to me like we should be staying out of it and letting the police do their jobs now.” The three of them exchange looks, and I mentally prepare for them to tell me all the reasons I’m supposedly wrong.
Patrick tucks my hair behind my ear. “Juliet is right.” Well, that’s a fucking shock to hear him say. “We can make up wild theories all day if we want, but it won’t change the fact that we don’t really know what happened.”
“So you think we should just give up?” Sadie cries out. Her whole face falls into despair.
“Just for now,” Smith says, nodding his agreement. “We don’t know enough right now to do anything more than end up on a wild goose-chase. It’s not worth it.” His voice goes quieter as he looks specifically at Sadie. “Especially not when you should be mourning, not playing detective.”
Sadie jumps to her feet, looking around the room at each of us like we’ve ultimately betrayed her. “Fuck all of you.” She sniffs loudly as she turns on her heel, disappearing further back into the guest house until a door slams.
“Well, that went over well.” Patrick stands and offers me a hand up.
I take it, but almost immediately regret it when I see Smith glaring at Patrick’s back. It looks an awful lot like jealousy, which confuses me just as much now as when Jax was the one acting jealous of Patrick. I don’t know what it is they see that I don’t.
“Let me walk you home,” Smith volunteers, the words coming out just a little too quick like he’s worried Patrick might try to beat him to it.
I let him start leading me away. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” And because I never can seem to help myself, I glance back to find Patrick watching us leave. He doesn’t look very happy.
Chapter Three
“You’re starting to get predictable,” Smith comments, startling me from my thoughts. His voice breaks the silence I’ve been enjoying for the last couple hours.
I smile up at him from my seat on the gazebo swing as he jogs the rest of the way up onto its wooden base. I scoot over a little, making room for him. I desperately try not to compare the way we’re able to share the bench to the way I watched Ace sit in one all to himself the first night we met. I don’t know why I’m still thinking about that. This is the third time this week Smith’s found me up here, and every time it’s been almost exactly the same.
“After the last several months I’ve had, predictable sounds pretty nice, actually.” I’ve had enough chaos for one lifetime.
“It’s been a lot,” Smith nods his agreement. He gets a faraway look in his eyes, his head turning slightly towards the opposite side of the house—where the garden is. And I know we’re both thinking about the same thing. It’s been two weeks, and there’s still no news about what happened to Kathryn.
I shift uncomfortably on the bench. I always get a little weirded out thinking about how close this spot is to that one. “How is Sadie?”
Smith grimaces. “She’s only been back from Banner-Hill for a few hours, so it’s hard to tell exactly. You know, she didn’t want to go there in the first place. Now that she’s back it’s like she doesn’t really want to talk to any of us. But after we gave her the Harrington family intervention, I can’t say I blame her.”
I blow out a long breath. I know from firsthand experience that people don’t get sober unless they want to. The Harringtons shipped Sadie right off to rehab immediately after Kathryn’s death, and according to what Smith told me, Sadie fought tooth and nail not to go. Banner-Hill might be considered the premiere rehab for the elite’s troubled brood, but I’m sure even they can’t change someone who’s not ready.
I haven’t talked to her since the morning she summoned me to the Harrington guest house. But thanks to Smith, I know she didn’t have access to her phone while she was gone. I’m hoping that’s the only reason I haven’t heard from her.
She wasn’t too pleased with me the last time I saw her. All because I didn’t want to play nice with Jax Woods, who spent all of last semester harassing me at every turn. And I really, really hope that hasn’t done irreversible damage to our friendship. It was nice having Sadie in my corner.
“Patience has a way of ruining people.” That was what Sadie had said that first day we met. “I can’t save you from that, but I can make sure you’ve got one person in your corner.”
“We go back to school tomorrow,” Smith says, changing the subject. He puts his hand on my thigh, his fingers tracing patterns on my leg that I feel even through my thick, wool leggings. I let myself get lost in the feeling. If there’s anything I can say about Smith, it’s that he knows how to make me feel good. There’s something soothing about his presence.
I let out a soft sigh. “Let’s just stay here forever. I don’t want to go back.” The last two times I’ve seen my classmates haven’t gone so well. There was the history presentation where Jax exposed pictures of me in my underwear. That was super fun. And then there was the birthday party where the reigning queen of the school wound up dead.
I’m not ready to see what disaster strikes next. No doubt something is coming. My time in Patience has been one thing after the next. I’m not so naive to think that will all end now.
“I wouldn’t complain.” Smith leans over to kiss my temple. I close my eyes, savoring the moment. Who knows when I’ll feel this peaceful again? The combination of the cold night air and Smith’s comforting presence create a warmth deep inside of me. I wish I could bottle up this feeling and carry it with me for when things suck again.
“Can I ask you something?” I tilt my chin up to look at Smith, my eyes searching out his in the dim light coming off the candle I brought out with me. Smith raises his eyebrows, giving me the go-ahead. “You put up with a lot of shit from Jax.”
Smith’s lips pull down at the corners. “Was there a question there or…?” I can feel him stiffen as his fingers stop moving. He doesn’t take his hand away completely, but his palm falls flat on my thigh.
“I think you know what I’m asking, Smith. I want to know why. Why does Jax seem to have this weird power over you?” He groans, letting his head fall back against the back of the swing. He has to have known this was coming. How long did he really expect me to just accept his weird pseudo-friendship with Jax? It’s weird, and surely I’m not the only one that thinks so.
“It’s just complicated.” He lets out a long sigh. I’m sure he’d love for me to stop prodding, but I can’t. There are so many questions still left unanswered right now, but this feels like one that I should be able to get an answer to.
“That feels like a major understatement.” I study him, watching the way his forehead wrinkles as he tries to come up with some way to answer me.
“We grew up together, Juliet. We’ve been friends for a really long time. Can’t you just accept
that this is how our friendship is? It works for us. Sure, sometimes he’s more of an asshole than he needs to be, but Jax has my back when it matters.” He could be talking about any friendship right now, the way he’s describing it. But I know there has to be more to the story.
I shake my head at him, frustrated by how he’s trying to dance around an answer. “This thing with Jax is affecting our relationship. Isn’t that enough of a reason to be more honest with me about it?”
“Our relationship, huh? Are you finally ready to talk about that?” Ah, I shot myself in the foot, it seems. I have been avoiding defining our relationship. We sit, we talk, we kiss, but we don’t call it anything. Smith’s made it abundantly clear he’d like to change that. I’m the one that’s been resisting. I don’t know why exactly, but something inside of me feels hesitant.
“You’re trying to change the subject,” I point out. I don’t understand why his friendship with Jax has to be so secretive. Why has he trusted me with so many other things—like telling me he’d stolen from my grandfather’s things—but he won’t trust me with this?
“Well, turnabout is fair play.” Smith leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. The second his hand leaves my thigh, I miss his touch. The cold seeps in quickly now that he’s not sharing his warmth. “You want me to talk my relationship with Jax but you don’t want to talk about your relationship with me.”
I scoff. “They’re not the same things.”
“Aren’t they?”
“No.” I don’t see how he doesn’t understand where I’m coming from. “I don’t want to talk about our relationship because I’m not ready. I’m still thinking about what it is I even want. You won’t talk about Jax because your loyalty is still to him. Whatever it is between the two of you, I’ll bet you don’t talk about it but because you know he wouldn’t want you to.” It’s a bit of a shot in the dark, but knowing what I know of each of them—limited as that knowledge still is—this is what makes the most sense. The secret between them that keeps them so close? I assumed it was Smith’s secret, but now I’m realizing it must be Jax’s.
