CHAPTER 28

 

The visitation area of the Androscoggin County Jail is a small room the size of our storage closet. A metal stool is bolted to the floor in front of a bulletproof glass window that is several inches thick. I chew my lip as I stare at my fingernails, waiting for Luke to appear on the other side of the glass. There is no sound and after a while, I automatically start humming to break through the nerve-racking silence.

When the door behind the glass finally opens, the man crossing the threshold has barely a resemblance with my brother. His face is covered with stubble and dark circles underline his eyes. The few days he has spent behind bars has easily aged him by ten years. His tan from the summer has totally vanished, his skin shining ghost-like under the bright neon light.

His lips spread into the widest grin when he lowers himself onto the stool across from me. His palm comes to rest on the glass. Tears fill my eyes when I raise my hand to mimic the gesture. The glass feels cold and Luke appears miles away despite our closeness—the separation tears painfully at my heart. A few hot tears spill from my eyes and roll down my cheeks. There is nothing in this world I want more than to touch him.

He grimaces, picking up the phone, and signals me to do the same. As soon as the receiver touches my ear, I hear his voice.

“Hey, sis, what’s up?”

I know he is trying to make this experience easier for me and I wipe the tears off my face with the sleeve of my jacket. Snuffling, I make a mental note to bring tissues next time.

“I’m hanging in there.” I don’t want to ask him how he is—afraid of the answer—giving him my bravest smile instead.

He takes the lead, volunteering what I need to know. “I’m okay, really. It’s nothing like you see in the movies. Most of the guys in here are actually alright, though the food is terrible. We get to watch TV almost all day and are even allowed to go to the gym.”

“You have a gym?” I ask with surprise.

“Yep. They even let you use an exercise yard for some fresh air when it’s not too cold.” He pats his stomach. “I think I’ve been losing weight, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. You’ll see, by the time I get out of here, I’ll be in top form.”

My smile is crooked; his efforts to cheer me up only bring new tears to my eyes.

“So, what have you been up to?” he asks.

I ponder whether I should tell him the truth about my recent endeavors and decide to play it by ear. “I’ve been hanging out with Hallie a lot.”

“That’s good.” His words don’t match his reserved smile; he must not think it’s a good idea.

My fingers wrap tighter around the receiver. “We have been playing detective, trying to find Napoleon.”

His eyes narrow. “Don’t you think you should let the police handle that?”

I have seen the expression on his face a hundred times before—it’s his typical big-brother protective look. Wanting to ease his mind, I feed him some more information. “Marcel has been helping us. You really don’t need to worry.”

He snorts. “He’s a drug dealer. I really don’t think he’s the right person to hang with, Kels.”

It’s my turn to frown—after all, he helped him find me—and it is rather hypocritical to judge him.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he adds. “I appreciate what he has done for you, but those types of guys attract trouble like a magnet. Sooner or later, he’ll pull you down.”

I almost chuckle when I remember our road trip to Connecticut. Luke has no idea that he and Finn already totally corrupted me. If Marcel wasn’t a cop, I would probably be sitting in a similar jail cell in New Haven.

“I just don’t think this case is a priority for the police,” I admit. “As long as Napoleon is out there, I’ll always have to look over my shoulder. I refuse to live like this for the rest of my life.”

“I understand.”

My gaze drops when I notice the pain in his eyes.

“I guess I just want to be the one helping you,” he says. “It drives me nuts, sitting in here, terrified that Napoleon will snatch you again and I won’t be around to protect you.” His face softens. “I hope you understand.”

My hand moves over the glass again. “Of course I do, and I wish you were here with me, too.” My voice is trembling and I swallow down the lump building in my throat. “Did your dad say what’ll happen next?”

“The DA will present the case to the grand jury, and if I’m lucky, they’ll drop the charges after that. The state really doesn’t want to pursue this, but they fear that people will scream favoritism because my dad is a hotshot lawyer. He said they’re just going through the motions and that I shouldn’t worry. I just hope he’s right.”

That makes two of us. “When’s the grand jury?”

“Not sure. They’ll subpoena you to testify, so you’ll know.”

“Well, I will tell them that your act was nothing but heroic.” I smile. “You saved my life, Luke.”

He lowers his gaze. “Just make sure you stay safe.”

I’m just about to tell him not to worry when the door behind him opens with a low squeak.

“Time’s up, Franklin.” The guard glares at him without even the slightest bit of sympathy.

The wetness in Luke’s eyes betrays him; this is so much harder than he lets on. “I love you, Kels.”

My bottom lip trembles when our palms connect over the glass one last time. “I love you, too, Luke. I’ll be back in two days.”

My heart is torn from my chest when the guard leads him away and the door closes behind him. The silence envelops me, sucking the little bit of restraint right out of me. With my face buried in my hands, I weep, wanting to find Napoleon more than ever. He has destroyed my life in every way imaginable and I will not rest until he is the one behind the glass.

 

~~~~

 

An hour later, I meet up with Finn at the coffee shop. Though he hasn’t been officially cleared as Napoleon, I figure I’ll be safe in a public place. My initial apprehension has been slowly dwindling away after I started to convince myself that he couldn’t possibly be my tormentor. He had plenty of opportunities to abduct me during our night on the town. And beating up Jed and risking a lengthy prison term, just to cover potential future tracks, makes no sense.

He grins when he squeezes into the seat across from me, his eyes lively. He certainly is in a much better mood than me.

“My uncle went down to Connecticut to get Cameron,” he informs me after mumbling a “Hi” and signaling the waitress to bring him some coffee. “Social Services cleared him as a temporary guardian after I agreed to move out until my lawyer can file a motion to vacate my conviction for sexual assault. I’m not allowed to be around Cameron for now, but at least he’s safe and won’t be in foster care.”

I frown, fearing the worst. “Where’re you gonna stay?”

My suspicion is confirmed just moments later. “I think I’ll crash at Marcel’s for a while. Tyrone has a big house and I could even help out, earn some extra cash.”

The waitress places the coffee in front of him and gives me a refill. I wait until she is out of earshot before I cut into him. “I think that’s a terrible idea.”

If he is living there, he’ll get caught up in Marcel’s undercover operation. Marcel had just told me this morning that the DEA will be moving in soon to make the bust since a huge deal with some South American drug cartel is about to go down. “Tyrone’s a criminal and you’re setting yourself up for trouble. Your probation officer will probably violate you if he finds out you’re living there.”

He sips his coffee slowly, glaring at me with knotted brows. “You know, I’m really surprised to hear this. If it wasn’t for Marcel, you’d be dead.” He tries to keep the trembling anger from his voice, but fails. “He’s my friend and has always been there for me. I hope you won’t make me choose, because let me assure you, you’ll lose.”

The thought of giving him an ultimatum had crossed my mind but is quickly discarded after his words. “Hey, I don’t wanna fight. I’m just worried you’ll get yourself into more trouble.” I grimace. “This gang business is new to me and I don’t really feel comfortable around Tyrone. He creeps me out.”

“I guess he can be scary, especially for some country chick like you. Sometimes, I forget you grew up in Stonehenge. You stood your ground like a real street kid out there in New Haven.” He laughs. “You were kickass.”

“Yeah, I suppose.” My smile is slow, uncertain whether to take this as a compliment. The fact that he grew up around crime and drugs makes me question his values at times. I now understand why Marcel mistrusts him to a certain degree—I’m not sure if I would put my life in Finn’s hands if I was a cop.

It was almost too easy to sell him Marcel’s story. After we had gotten the car from the impound yard and had checked on Maisie, who had temporarily found a home with one of Marcel’s DEA buddies, Marcel called him and picked him up from the Greyhound bus stop where Finn had been waiting for a bus back to Maine.

As soon as Finn saw Marcel’s face, he immediately presumed that Marcel had hired some legal heavyweight and gotten himself released with the threat of a lawsuit. Convincing him that his assumptions were right was a piece of cake after I confirmed Marcel’s detailed account of how the cops had managed to screw up the entire case. I just explained how they retaliated with brutal violence right in front of me after he had given them a smart lip.

A giggle from the door distracts me when two new patrons enter the coffee shop.

“There she is,” Cynthia mutters to Justin, loud enough for the whole diner to hear.

I frown—why can’t those two can’t just leave me alone? The gossip in town has been booming since Luke’s arrest and I have suffered under the constant stares and whispers of anyone I passed on the street.

Justin slowly strolls over to me. “Nice pictures you posted on FriendBook. I have to admit, you’re hot.” He kisses Cynthia’s cheek when she nudges him in the side. “But of course not as hot as you, babe.”

That causes her to giggle hysterically.

I roll my eyes. “I have no clue what you’re talking about. I haven’t been on my FriendBook account in years.”

“Oh yeah.” His eyes fall on Finn and he smirks. “Dude, those pictures are dynamite. Your girlfriend seems great in the sack. I’m just sorry that it’s with another guy.”

Finn glares at Justin. “She just told you she doesn’t know nothing about it.”

Justin lazily fishes his iPhone from his pocket, tapping around before holding my FriendBook profile under my nose. “Here we go.”

All color leaves my face. My profile picture has been changed to a topless photograph of myself. Underneath, there are dozens of pictures of me having sex with Jed. I clutch my hand over my lips as a gurgle builds in the bottom of my throat.

“I—I didn’t do that.” My mouth is so dry that I have trouble swallowing. Every breath is agonizing, the all-too-familiar feeling of oxygen being squeezed from my lungs with an iron fist spreading across my chest. I gasp, the diner spinning. Jed’s lustful eyes burn in my mind; his groans echo in my ears and mix with my pleading yelps for him to stop.

A sharp pain pulls me back before the panic spirals out of control. I find Finn’s eyes, his fingernails clawing deeply into my skin. His message is clear—“Keep it together.”

“Get lost,” he hisses at Justin and Cynthia. “If I were you, I wouldn’t share these photos, or you might regret it.”

Justin throws me a vicious look. “Too late. Kelsey’s profile is public, so the world can see those pictures. They’ve been on there for hours. Everyone knows.”

Tears fill my eyes as the full impact hits me. There is no way to get every single one of the photos deleted—they will be on the Internet forever. Napoleon must have broken into my FriendBook account and not only posted them, but set my profile to public.

Anger flares, and in my rage, I turn on Justin. “You probably remembered my password and uploaded these. Hell, for all I know, you were the second kidnapper. I’ll talk to the cops and have you arrested.”

For a moment, he stares at me, and I triumph, thinking I actually scared him. Then he starts laughing.

“You’re totally crazy.” Tears sparkle in his eyes as he continues to snicker. “Cynthia and I weren’t even in the country over Christmas. We went to her family’s vacation home in Barbados and didn’t come home till last night.” He nudges my shoulder and I recoil. “You are hot, but not enough for me to go through the trouble of kidnapping you.” He takes a deep breath, his chuckles finally dying down. “Boy, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in ages.”

For the first time, I notice that they are both covered with a golden tan, Cynthia’s face full of freckles that usually fade in the winter. He must be telling the truth.

Finn’s eyes narrow. “If you touch her again, I’ll break your jaw, and then you won’t be able to laugh for a while. What kind of sick person makes jokes about stuff like that?”

Justin pushes out his chest with a smug expression on his face. “You two aren’t even worth my time.” His arm comes to rest around Cynthia’s shoulders and he smiles sweetly at her. “Let’s go, babe. The movie starts in ten minutes and this is our last week before you go back to college.”

He winks at me as he whisks her away, my gaze following them with a sullen expression. Of all the people on my suspect list, I would have loved seeing him in jail. He’s such a douchebag.

Finn signals the waitress and pulls out his wallet. “We need to get those pictures off FriendBook. Let’s go to your place and take care of it.”

I hesitate—there won’t be anyone at the house. My mom and Roy have gone to Augusta for the day to meet with one of Roy’s friends who is supposed to help with Luke’s case. My mom had only agreed to go when I had sworn to return straight home after my visit at the jail.

“I’d rather be alone for a while,” I claim, my shrewdness competing with my mounting need to have a friend by my side.

He pulls out a five-dollar bill, placing it on the table when the waitress takes her sweet time. “There’s no way I’ll leave you alone and risk you cutting yourself. This is a prime situation to relapse.”

It is time to fess up. “Finn, you can’t come. I don’t want to be alone with you.”

His forehead wrinkles in confusion. “Why’s that?”

How do you tell your friend that you suspect him of being a rapist? I nibble on my lip—feverishly thinking of something to sugarcoat the inevitable message. My mind comes up blank. This may be one of the hardest things I’ll ever have to do. “Because there’s a chance that you could be Napoleon.”

He looks like someone just cut his chest open with a machete as all color leaves his face. Confusion, pain, and the utter sense of betrayal are written in his eyes, making me feel like a despicable human being. How could I have ever doubted him? I want to take back the words—apologize—but he doesn’t give me the chance.

With a sigh, he slides the wallet back into his pocket. “Take care of yourself.”

As he strolls out without another glance, I can’t shake the feeling that I will never see him again. That’s when my heart shatters into a thousand pieces. It’s the moment I realize how much I actually care for him. Though I know that I owe it to myself not to take any chances, my stunt likely screwed up my one chance at happiness. Yet this time, there is no one else to blame but myself.