Stay With Me: Diamond In The Rough 3

by Hart, Rebel

  These I’d keep for myself.

  I gathered my things then headed out the door. Allison had convinced her parents to let her borrow the van for today. So off we went. She pulled into my driveway just as I locked the door behind me. I was excited to go dress shopping with her. I rushed to the van and hopped in, with her exclaiming over my sunglasses.

  “Oh, my gosh. Where in the world did you get those?”

  I pulled a sparkling pair out of my purse. “Want a pair?”

  She gasped. “Rae. Do you have any idea what kind of sunglasses these are?”

  I shrugged. “No clue. But I know they’re expensive. So treat them with care.”

  “Wait, are you giving these to me? Where on earth did you get them?”

  “Oh, do I have some shit to fill you in on.”

  “Okay, okay. Hold on. Let me get us out to the main road first.”

  She slipped on the sunglasses and giggled like a little girl. I clapped my hands as I laughed, watching the way she enjoyed them. I had a pair set aside for Clint, too. Sunglasses that could easily pass for a men’s pair. All black. A beautiful matte black. With sharp edges and a red streak going down either side of the arms.

  I couldn't wait to give them to him Monday at school.

  Allison pulled out of the driveway and headed toward the opening of the neighborhood. She drove like an old woman, though. Five under the speed limit, no matter what. I grinned as we made our way onto the main road, getting ourselves into traffic that made Allison white-knuckle the damn steering wheel.

  I held off on my storytelling until we got to the mall. But the second she eased into a parking space and turned off the van, I whipped my head around to hers.

  “So, last week after I got off work, I went to go check on Clint. You know, his first day back?”

  Allison turned to face me. “Yeah? I mean, I take it he was fine. He’s been back at school all week.”

  I nodded. “Yep. He was just fine. Apparently, Cecilia’s leaving his father.”

  She gasped. “Nuh-uh.”

  “Yeah. She’s really leaving him. They were packing up all her stuff when I went by. Her closet is massive, Allison. I mean, easily the size of my bedroom. If not bigger. She was packing away all the things she wanted to take and donating what she didn’t want to keep.”

  “Let me guess. She let you pilfer through the donation pile.”

  “More than that, she and Clint loaded me down with stuff. You wouldn't believe the kinds of things I’ve got in my closet right now. Stuffed inside brown and tan Louis Vuitton luggage.”

  “What!?”

  I laughed. “I know, right? It was insane. I’ve actually sold some of the jewelry she gave me just to put some money in my savings. You know, for after graduation. I gave a few pieces to Mom. I kept a few for myself—including my prom dress.”

  “Wait, wait, wait, you have your prom dress and I haven’t seen it yet? What gives?”

  “You can come inside after you drop me off and I’ll put it on for you. Cecilia gave me matching heels and a clutch and everything.”

  “So, you got these sunglasses from her?”

  I nodded. “Yep. I’ve got a pair for Michael, too.”

  “What will you do with the rest of the clothes?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I’ve already got the things I want to keep folded away at the bottom of my dresser drawers. I guess you can come take a look at what you might want. But I figured I’d hang onto the things and sell them if I needed the money.”

  “Oh, that hurts my heart. I bet they’re gorgeous clothes.”

  “Well, then come upstairs after we’re done shopping and you can take a look. There’s purses and dresses and shirts and pants and jewelry still up for grabs.”

  She threw her arms around me. “Your life is so insane.”

  I giggled. “Yeah. I know.”

  She released me from the hug. “So, what about the house? Is it actually being sold?”

  I sighed. Because this was the one bad thing that happened this past week.

  “It’s actually sold, yeah. They have to be out in a little over two weeks. And according to Clint, neither of them have heard a word from his father since he came to pick Clint up from school that day.”

  She snickered. “What a butthead.”

  I giggled. “Yes. He’s definitely one of those.”

  “Oh! Michael said Clint stopped by to pick up his money. Did he ever get it deposited?”

  I nodded. “Yep. And he’s still selling things off. I think he’ll have a nice little nest egg going for himself.”

  “Has he given Michael’s parents' place any thought? I mean, he’ll need a place to go.”

  “If he has, he hasn’t mentioned anything to me. And honestly, I’m trying not to press so much. I know he’s overwhelmed, and we just got him caught back up with school. The last thing I want is for him to stop coming again because he feels like he’s drowning and has to cut something out.”

  “That makes sense.”

  “So, ready to get this shopping done?”

  She giggled. “You’re just ready for the food that comes after.”

  I unbuckled my seatbelt. “You know I hate shopping.”

  “Which is terrible, because you look good in so many things. I’d kill for the curves you have. I’m nothing but a stick.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I know. Such a burden being thin and beautiful.”

  The two of us linked arms, then headed into the mall. We walked through store after store, with Allison turning her nose up at most everything she came across. I mean, I had planned for an entire afternoon of shopping. But, usually, shopping required trying things on.

  And after walking through four stores, she hadn’t tried on a damn thing.

  “Are you okay?”

  Allison sighed. “I think I should be searching for prom dresses instead of graduation dresses.”

  “You still haven’t found yours yet?”

  She shook her head. “No, and I’m still not sure if I’m even going. I mean, Michael’s hinted at it. I think he kind of asked me, but I’m not sure.”

  “What do you mean, he kind of asked you?”

  “Well, we were having this talk about it on Wednesday. And he started talking about his suit and all the colors he wanted to wear. And then he looked at me and asked me what color my dress was. I told him I didn’t know because I hadn’t gotten one yet, and that was that. He didn’t formally ask or anything. Just… assumed? I think?”

  I nodded. “It sounds like he assumes you guys are going together.”

  “I want him to ask, though. That’s the fun part of prom.”

  “Well, maybe start dropping some hints. You know, like you did back before you two were dating.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Are guys always this clueless? Why do I have to do all the legwork?”

  I snickered. “Trust me, you will always have to do all the legwork.”

  “Great.”

  “If you want to look for prom dresses instead, I’m all for it. Means I don’t have to try on shit.”

  She snickered. “Yeah, you'd like that part, too. Oh! Wait! Has Clint asked you to prom?”

  I shook my head. “No. Not yet.”

  “You think he will?”

  “I really hope so. I mean, I’ve got that dress his stepmom gave me. I’d like a chance to wear it for him.”

  “For him? Wow, who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

  I laughed. “Oh, shut up.”

  “You’ve got it bad for him.”

  “And this is news to you?”

  She giggled. “Nope. Just cute, is all. Love looks good on you.”

  “I never said I was—”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're in love, whether you want to admit it or not. And it looks good on you. Take the compliment and come on. I see a dress I want to try.”

  And before I could fight her any more on the matter, she tugged me into a store. Head
ed straight for a pale yellow and purple gown that screamed Allison’s name.

  A gown I knew would look fabulous on her, even though it still hung on a rack.

  29

  Clinton

  The strip of tape made a bombastic sound as I pulled it across the cardboard boxes. I’d done everything I could. Sold everything I could without throwing red flags up to my father. And now the time had come. Cecilia and I had two weeks to get our asses out of this place before the new owners were due to move in. And I still had yet to figure out where the hell I was headed. I hadn’t even talked with my stepmom about it. Were we sticking together? Was she leaving to do her own thing? Did I need to take Michael up on the offer from his parents?

  Stay focused. Just keep packing.

  As I dug through my room, I set aside a few more things I didn’t mind selling. A genuine leather belt I hadn’t touched once. Shined leather shoes that still smelled new. An entire tuxedo tailored to me I never planned on wearing again.

  Well, after prom.

  Shit, I have to ask Rae to prom.

  My phone rang in my back pocket and I tossed my tuxedo onto the bed, which had been stripped of its sheets. If I really was being forced out of this house, I’d take with me anything and everything that could even possibly be mine. Towels. The decorative bathroom set. The sheets on my bed. Hell, I was still in the process of trying to arrange a storage facility so I could take my bedroom set, too. The mattress. The bedside tables. All of it. I’d gotten so much money from selling off the small things in this house that I had no need to sell that shit. Which meant I could start my new life off with some furniture of my own.

  Though, part of me wanted to torch every bit of it and start from scratch. Erase the painful memories that came with the pieces of this bedroom set.

  I pulled my phone out and saw an unknown number calling, so I ignored it. I got back to taping up boxes I already had packed. Then that number called back again. No voice message. No text. Nothing. It was our area code, though.

  Just pick it up, Clint.

  “Hello?”

  The woman cleared her throat. “Is this Mr. Clinton Clarke?”

  I paused. “Who’s asking?”

  “My name is Rena Nichols. I’m a lawyer in the area.”

  I furrowed my brow. “What can I do for you, Miss Nichols?”

  “I’d like to speak with you, in person, about the charges against the three kids that ran you off the road last month. Do you have some time to come in?”

  “On a Saturday?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You don’t have to call me that.”

  “What do you prefer to be called?”

  “Clint is just fine.”

  She paused. “All right, Mr. Clint. Yes, as soon as you can get in here, I’d like to speak with you. Preferably with an adult present.”

  I snickered. “I’m eighteen. I can come by myself.”

  “I know. But it might behoove you to have an adult here. To help you absorb what I have to say.”

  “Has something happened? How did you get my number?”

  A knock came at my door. “Clinton? Everything okay?”

  I turned around and looked at Cecilia. I pressed the phone to my shoulder as I tried gathering my thoughts. She walked over to me, her eyes filled with concern. And just as she went to reach for my phone, I drew in a sharp breath.

  “There’s a lawyer on the phone for me. Says she’s got information on the charges against the boys that ran me off that bridge.”

  Cecilia nodded. “You want me to speak with her?”

  “She’s saying I should come into her office today with a legal guardian or something. Says it’s not required, but I should anyway.”

  “Let me get my things. Get her address and we can head out now.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She backtracked out of my room. “Positive, Clinton.”

  I put the phone back to my ear. “You still there?”

  “I’m ready to give my address whenever you are.”

  I searched around for my notebook and pen before scribbling down the address she rattled off. I didn’t know what this was about, but it sounded urgent. And not good. I hung up the phone and turned around, finding Cecilia standing in the doorway with her purse slung over her shoulder and her hair piled high on top of her head. We made our way out of the house.

  “Did she say what this was about at all?”

  I shook my head, closing the front door behind me. “All she says was it was important. I don’t even know how she got my information.”

  She nodded slowly. “All right. Well, let’s go figure out what this is all about. Then, we can get back to packing.”

  “You think she might be able to help with this house thing? You know, prevent the sale from happening?’

  She sighed. “It’s already happened. There’s nothing we can do about that. And honestly? I’m not sure I’d even want to stay here, given the chance. Would you?”

  I shrugged. “Where else am I going to go?”

  She nodded slowly. “We’ll figure that out. Together. Okay? I promise. But, right now, let’s focus on what’s in front of us. Which is the lawyer.”

  * * *

  “Mr. Clint, it’s nice to meet you.”

  I shook the lawyer’s hand before reaching for Cecilia.

  “This is my stepmother, Cecilia Clarke.”

  Miss Nichols shook her hand. “Thank you for coming in on such short notice. Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

  It was clear from the size of her office that she was a prominent lawyer. A successful one. The bookshelves were lined from floor to ceiling with all sorts of law textbooks and reference materials. Binders were open on her desk. There were filing cabinets tucked into every corner of the room. Miss Nichols walked with poise and grace, dressed to impress but not dominate.

  She ushered for us to sit down in front of her desk.

  “To answer your questions, I received your case file from a colleague of mine. A colleague that might have promised some pro bono work?”

  I nodded slowly. “So, why are we in your office instead of his?”

  She sighed. “My colleague’s schedule has become filled. But he didn’t want your specific situation falling through the cracks. He’d been keeping tabs on the police investigation, but once a major case fell into his lap, he wanted to make sure yours got passed on to someone he knew would take care of it.”

  Cecilia cleared her throat. “Which he feels is you.”

  Miss Nichols nodded. “Yes. And I have to admit, your case has caught my eye. It’s an easy open-and-shut case. The police charged them for the speeding and reckless driving. I’m curious as to why you haven’t pressed formal charges yet.”

  The women looked at me and I sighed.

  “Just—a lot has happened lately. A lot is going on that needs my attention.”

  The lawyer nodded. “Something more important than putting bars around the boys that almost killed you.”

  Cecilia butted in. “You said pro bono, right?”

  Nichols nodded. “Correct.”

  “And you think this is an open and shut case?”

  “Once we go to court, I can prove within the day what these boys are guilty of and have them slapped in handcuffs.”

  I sighed. “Look, we’re in the process of moving. And—”

  The lawyer held up her hand. “My colleague gave me quite an interesting hypothetical over the phone.”

  Her eyes met mine as Cecilia looked over at me.

  “Okay. Great,” I murmured.

  Nichols sat against her desk. “I’ll answer any questions you want. I’ll help in any way I can. But these kids can’t walk. They need to be taught a lesson. And as far as this house situation goes, I’m more than willing to help you navigate it.”

  I snickered. “The house has been sold. It’s a non-issue at this point.”

  “Then I can help the two of you get back on your feet. Get you estab
lished in the area. And if you don’t want to stay here, I can reach out to colleagues I have up and down the West Coast. Have them help you get settled where you need to be without that man’s influence ruining everything.”

  Cecilia drew in a shuddering breath. “You can do that?”

  Nichols nodded. “I’m more than willing to, yes. The position you two have been put in sounds almost impossible. You’re going to need someone on your side.”

  I felt so overwhelmed. And yet, so relieved. Cecilia started firing off all sorts of questions. How this woman could help. What court might feel like. Whether or not we’d have to get up and testify. How long the process took. I sat there, thankful that I’d brought her along. Because had she not been there beside me, I wasn’t sure I would’ve come up with half the questions she had asked.

  Cecilia took my hand. “How are you feeling about all this?”

  I drew in a deep breath. “It’s a lot to process.”

  Nichols stood up. “I want you to take your time and think about it. The police will push forward with charges, one way or another. But they can’t charge the boys with attempted murder without you filing those formal charges. Which I’m more than willing to do.”

  I nodded slowly. “And, you’re willing to help with the rest of this stuff, too?”

  Her eyes met mine. “Anything you need. Pro bono.”

  I looked over at Cecilia before I stood up. I walked over to the lawyer and stared straight into her eyes. I search for any lie. Any manipulation. Any fault in the programming of what she was saying. And when I found none, I offered her my hand.

  “You have a deal,” I said.

  Nichols took my hand. “Wonderful. The first thing I’m going to do is file the formal charges on your behalf. I’ll need a written account of what happened that night for my own records. I know you’ve already written one for the police, but I’ll need one, too.”