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Even though I hadn’t been to the police station in years, not since Yasmin’s boss found me in that room, the ride was still as uncomfortable and depressing as it had been before.
We pulled up to the station and drove through the back gates. I held hope that Brady had some connections to get me out of this messed up situation in time to go back home. And when I got there, I was never coming back to Denton County.
My mind filled with hundred scenarios of what could happen. People were falsely accused all the time and were sentenced. I knew I was innocent, but I feared for the worst. My palms were damp. My heart pounded in an irregular rhythm as I shuddered at the horrible thought.
Why now? What triggered all of this? Was it me coming into town? I was angry and nervous all at the same time as uncertainty turned in my stomach. I studied the gray, stone wall that made up the police station as Officer Ranken found a spot and parked.
I shifted, waiting, as the handcuffs behind my back dug into my wrist. My door finally opened and Ranken guided me out of the backseat. I reluctantly followed her and her partner inside the building. My eyes darted around the station, trying to find a familiar face, but it seemed like everyone blended into one another in the sea of blue uniforms.
They took me to that dreaded interrogation room and sat me down, leaving the cuffs on. Once again, I waited.
I now had a pretty good idea who was behind my arrest as I glared at that same two-way mirror. It's a good thing they couldn't read minds, because when I got out of this mess, I was going to file a lawsuit against Detective Yasmin for harassment. She’d gone too far.
After a moment of sitting there, I shifted in my seat, trying to get in a better position to alleviate the pressure from the cuffs on my wrists. I tensed when the door finally cracked open. I had a pretty good guess of who was coming in, and she had enough gall to have a small smile on her lips as she shut the door behind her.
“Well, Faith Daniels,” she said, slapping a file onto the table between us, making me flinch, “It seems like we have a problem.”
Another person came in, bringing a small tape recorder and setting it on the desk before they left. Detective Yasmin sat back, folded her arms and waited. My blood started to boil as she seemed smug. Who did she think she was? To sit there, accuse me, and not go out and find the real killer?
She had a witness. Someone who saw. It couldn't have been me because I didn't leave the house. Unless she knew something I didn’t. A sick feeling twisted in my stomach. Was there a hole in the neighbor’s testimony?
I couldn’t even think about that possibility, so I did the only thing I could do.
“Why am I here?” I questioned, trying to keep my cool as I raised an eyebrow, as if seemingly unperturbed by her tone.
“You’re a monster.” I pulled back, shocked at the venom in her answer. “To kill your own father and then beat yourself up to make it seem like he was the one. What made you do it, Faith?”
Where in the world did she even get such an idea? “That’s entirely not true! You’re making that up!” My voice was rose with frustration and defensiveness. “I want to know how you came to that conclusion. How you even think that I could do that. Marked my skin. Made bruises. Beat myself until I could have died? Do you think someone would do that? Could do that?”
Palms slammed down on the table as fury in her eyes bore into mine. “If someone was desperate enough,” she whispered, lowly.
I was numb.
Detective Yasmin leaned forward, opening up the file folder. Glancing down, she quoted, “‘I don't remember. I don't know.’ Those are the words.” She peered back up at me, sitting back like she had an ace in her hand and continued, “That’s what you told us when you woke up. That you didn't know what happened that night. You lied, Faith. You sat in here time after time listening to me asking you, trying to get inside your head.” Her eyes narrowed. “We’ve done this before, Faith. You answered in the same fashion, but this time I don’t need to ask you anything. I already have your answer.” She stood, putting her hands on her hips as if she was a disappointed mother. “You’re going away for a long time.”
I shook my head, my whole body trembling with rage and disappointment. I’d had faith in the police system once, but now they’d lost my trust.
I pressed my lips together and looked down at the table, refusing to let her use me like she was. She’d made her decision a long time ago about me. “I want a lawyer.”
“Of course, you do,” Yasmin scoffed. “But no lawyer is going to get you out of this.”
She reached over and pressed play on the tape, and that's when my heart shattered. It was my voice. It was Tyler's Grandmother’s and Talia's voices too. It was the whole conversation we’d had in the truck. Me telling them how I thought I had killed my own father. I felt betrayed.
Yasmin stopped the tape, and the fight went out of me. I didn't know who to trust anymore.
“You see, Faith? That was a confession. One that I now have. It will stand up in court. You'll be sentenced despite what you think. Despite who your guardian is. You were thirteen when you killed your father. That means if we’d had proof back then, we could have still prosecuted you as an adult for the murder.”
Yasmin didn't wait any longer as she took the recorder and the files and walked to the door. Her soft whisper floated to my ears, “No one can save you now, Faith.”
My soul shattered as I hung my head, biting my lip. Silent tears I had held in cascaded down my cheeks as my mind refused to believe her, but my heart was slowly dying, realizing the truth. Maybe this time, I wasn't meant to be saved.
Someone came back and put me in a holding cell. It was interesting because I had never been in one before. On TV, they didn't seem all that bad and whoever it was seemed to be in with a few other people.
For my case, that wasn't so. It was a room surrounded by three walls with the fourth one being made up of those clichéd bars. Three benches that were welded down to the floor rested against the three solid walls for all the comforts of home. I guessed the interior decorator of my holding cell was a minimalist.
My feelings started to harden as I waited. And waited. I had anticipated seeing Brady, but that dream died when an hour passed and then another. No Brady, no lawyer and no welcome committee. Just little old me.
Five hours of anxiety and arguing with myself about everything. What I could have done better. That no one loved me. That I was all alone. I had gone to the deepest depths of despair and self-loathing that I had even managed to convince myself that the McGuire brothers were better off without me. Five hours of that crap running through my head until the unthinkable happened.
I had a visitor.
And it wasn't anyone I had been expecting. He walked through the far door as if he owned the place and stood just outside my cell. He didn't look happy. He looked concerned for me. What. An. Act. Was he here to gloat? To strip me from what little hope I had left? I couldn't help it that my heart wanted to tear him to pieces. He was truly the enemy.
“I'm so sorry, Rella.” I flinched at the use of his nickname for me before glaring at him.
Tucker looked tortured himself, but it was all an act, I was sure. “She should have talked to me. To one of us, before she did what she did.”
I sat with my arms folded around my legs, my head lying on my knees, and glared at him. I was in defensive mode. I closed my eyes tight, not wanting to have him in my view.
“What are you doing here, Tucker?” The soulless question broke out of me. I didn't have the energy to argue. I had already done enough arguing in my head that I had a headache. I just wanted him to leave.
“I'm here to get you out,” he stated. “You're being released into Mr. White's custody. He posted your bail.”
That had me raising my head to look at him. “What? Why?” Honest curiosity won out.
“I'll tell you more later,” he said, gripping the bars between us. “I know you don't trust me, but I need you to. Just don’t say anything until we get out of here, ok?”
“Why?” I was truly baffled.
“Faith, there is more going on here than you know. Please, don’t talk until we get you out. I know you believe Brady has abandoned you, but he hasn't. He and Sarah are still here.”
A piece of foolish hope I had beaten down deep inside of me surfaced. “Really?”
“Oh, Rella,” Tucker whispered, “I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but we are all on your side. My Gram can be sweet and charming but make no mistake; she is hell on wheels. She made you family, and her word is law. Talia had a stupid crush on Lincoln McGuire. I thought it was harmless. I never realized how borderline stalking it was. Faith, someone found out and used it against her. She didn’t want to, but she was scared. Now that we know what happened, we can fix this.”
“Fix her mistake, not mine.”
“Both, Faith. We’re going to make things right.”
My shoulders tensed as the door opened once again, and I heard a set of keys jingling. Tucker moved back as my cell door was opened. Cuffs were placed once again on my raw wrists, and the three of us walked out and down the hall into a room where Mr. White stood.
“Faith," he spoke, coming near me, but then he stopped. His eyes went over my rumpled state before his worried eyes settled on mine. “Are you—” he cleared his throat nervously. “Are you, ok?”
“Just peachy,” I told him sarcastically. “It’s not every day that you get to spend five hours with all the peace and quiet you can get in a ten by ten luxurious holding cell that accommodates you with the best firm benches that money could buy, Mr. White. What do you think?”
Tucker snorted.
Another uniformed officer came in with what looked like a shoe box. The officer who had escorted Tucker and I into the room spoke for the first time. “You're being released into Henry White's care. You'll be given an ankle bracelet that will track and monitor where you are. Your preliminary hearing is set for three days from now, after which time you'll be scheduled for trial.”
The other officer pulled out the big chunky circle thing and gestured for me to put out my right leg. I swallowed nervously. “Can I shower with this thing on?”
“Yes. You can take a shower. Just no standing in water. No baths.”
I gave a sigh of relief. Three days was a long time to go without a shower.
“You have an hour to get to the address you have given before the anklet is activated. After the anklet is set, you cannot leave the house. Faith Daniels,” the police officer said, addressing me directly, “you are now currently under house arrest until we come to escort you to your preliminary hearing.” I nodded, understanding.
Mr. White escorted me out of the police station along with Tucker and not once did I run into Detective Yasmin, which was a relief. I wondered how they were able to do this. And why had Mr. White come? I didn't know how much my bail was, but I hope he didn’t have to put his house up to get me out. I thought I heard about someone doing that on TV. I was worried. I didn't want anyone to have to risk so much for me.
It wasn't until we got into the car that Tucker laid it all out once again. His sister, her obsession.
“Okay,” I said understanding, “I get it, but I still feel so betrayed. How? I mean...” I sighed looking out my window. “I don't know. How are you involved, Mr. White? How come it took you and Tucker to get me out?”
Tucker glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “I have a small confession. My family is unusual,” he stated cautiously. “We have certain connections, and one of them happens to be here. Mr. White was the one to get you released into his custody. I'm the one that has provided a safe place for us to stay.”
I mulled over what Tucker had said when we drove up to a set of gates. The gates opened after Tucker punched in some numbers on the keypad off to the side. “What is this place?” I whispered as we drove through.
There were three buildings on the compound—that's what it was. And when I saw all the motorcycles, I realized what Tucker was talking about. “My family isn’t normal,” Tucker echoed my own thoughts, “but we protect our own,” he finished, fiercely.
“This is Vic Manto’s compound,” I whispered, remembering the conversation I had with Raina about Tucker's grandfather.
Eyes flashed to mine through the rearview mirror. “My uncle.”
Shock ripped through my system as I realized all those whisperings and all those assumptions about his family were correct. Tucker had connections. So where were Brady and Sarah?
I didn't have to wait long to find out. We parked in front of a building, and I got out. I saw a big, burly man with tight leather pants, wearing a leather jacket that said ‘press.’ There was no need for guesswork on who this was once I noticed the same jet black hair and green eyes that I associated with Tucker. This was his uncle.
“Nephew,” he greeted with a nod. “Get your ass over here, boy.”
Tucker chuckled as both of them embraced in a manly one armed hug that consisted of a few hard pats on the back that made me wince. Vic Manto let go of Tucker and reached out just to shake my hand. “I hear you're in some trouble and that Mama Manto has dubbed you one of her own. You have my protection, and my resources here. I have a lawyer on standby to speak with you tomorrow, and your folks are already inside. But, know this,” his rough voice dipped down deeper in more of a threat. His eyes narrowed. “If you once cross my family, you will know pain like no other. It doesn't matter if you're a girl or not. Keep your mouth shut about what you see here.”
My heart skipped. Vic Manto scared me more than prison. I nodded and answered, “Yes, sir.”
A smile played on his lips. “Good.” He nodded and then dragged me into a hug, patting my back just as hard as he had done to Tucker. He let me go and pointed to Mr. White. “That warning goes for you too.”
Mr. White nodded calmly as if this were an everyday occurrence. “I understand.”
I had to say I felt like I was Alice in Wonderland headed down a dark, black hole, not knowing where I was going to end up. How many more secrets were hidden?
When we went inside, my heart leapt for joy when I saw Sarah there, tears in her eyes. “Faith!” she cried, rushing over and taking me into her arms. “I was so scared. We didn't know what to do. They wouldn't let Brady or I see you. Then these guys showed up and brought us here. I feel so bad...”—she pulled back, cupping my face as she sniffed—“I'm so sorry. We didn't mean to leave you, but they said they could get you out. We didn't know what to do.”
“I thought you’d left to me too,” I told her honestly. “I assumed you had left me.”
“Oh, honey, we would have never done that. We are going to get to the bottom of this. We have to.” I pulled away as Brady came up next to her, and I didn't hesitate to throw my arms around him.
“I was so scared,” I whispered to him, not wanting Sarah to hear. “I felt so lost.”
“Faith,” his voice wavered, “you're stuck with us, kiddo. Let's bring Detective Yasmin down.”
I pulled back, wiping my eyes and agreeing. “Do the McGuire boys know? Are they coming?”
Brady looked grim. “They know. They’re coming. I’m just not sure if they’ll make it for the preliminary hearing. I hope”—he clutched my shoulders tightly—“I hope that there won't be anything else after the hearing. That everything will be taken care of. Vic Manto assured us something along those lines might happen. If it does, I am willing to let the McGuire brothers take you home.”
“I'd like that.”
I turned to Mr. White. He was the only one I couldn't figure out. I knew why Tucker had done what he had done and stepped in. I definitely knew that Brady and Sarah didn't leave me, but why did Mr. White step in? What was it that made him do what he did?
He stood a little ways away, hands in his pockets, studying the exchange that Brady, Sarah and I had.
“Why?” I asked him. “Why did you step in? How did you know?”
He gave a grim smile and stepped forward. “Faith, there’s something I need to tell you.”
I froze. I almost had all I could take for one day. He pulled his hand out of his pocket, rubbing the back of his neck, and then glanced to the side. His mouth moved into a deep frown as he sighed.
“Faith, I’m your uncle. Your mom's brother.”
I jerked back into Brady, and his hand shot out to steady me. “You're wrong,” I voiced with such conviction. “My mother's brother is dead.”
Mr. White shook his head and gave a deep sighed. “Did she tell you that?”
My brows furrowed. Why did it matter who told me? “No. Pappy did,” I answered him reluctantly.
“Figures. Dad and I, we were always at odds," he stated directly. “Your mom was only a few years younger and still devoted to our parents. When I fell in love with my wife, my dad, Pappy, he refused to believe me. Said I was too young to know what love was. He didn’t approve of her. I left. Told my sister that I was dead to them.”
His hand trembled as he shoved it back into his pocket. “Years later, Diana, your mother, found me. My parents, your grandparents, had passed, and she wanted to reconnect.” He smiled. “The two of us met up and talked for hours, about everything, it seemed. We talked about you and your brother. My kids. She wanted to meet my wife, and for me meet her husband. The four of us hit it off. It felt good to be accepted again, to have my family back. We wanted you kids to meet, but my wife was hesitant. I don't know why. We left with a promise that I would call your mother after my wife and I talked it over.
“On the short drive home, I managed to convince my wife that our kids could only benefit from this. I remember when she shook her head, saying I was right, and she was just being overly cautious.
“I called her, your mother, but she didn't answer, so I immediately texted her instead. I had no idea the consequences that one text would have caused. I didn't think she would pick up her phone to look at a text if she didn't answer it for a phone call.”
My heart raced as I realized what he was talking about.
“The next day, she called me to say that her son had died, and she wanted no contact.”
My lips parted with the barest whisper, and I was frozen at what he told me. “Where were you... when I need you the most? After?”
His head dropped as his hand pinched the bridge of his nose. “You have to understand...”
“Where were you?!” I yelled, my whole body trembling. The only comfort I received came from Brady’s hand on my shoulder.
Mr. White lifted his head as guilt shone in his eyes. “I- they told me you were troubled. I couldn’t do it. I told them no. I already had one out of control daughter. I couldn’t take on another.”
After a moment, I chose my words carefully. “How did you end up in the same town as us? Was it a coincidence?”
He shook his head and grimaced. “No. I lived in Denton County, but I moved after the McGuires, even though I never realized it at the time, to northern New York. A lot of jobs had opened up there. After I said I couldn't take you, I still received updates. None of it good, except for Tom Brady. He took you under his wing. I took a risk. Talked to a few people who created a job up here for him. With the choice to work with his best friend and the price of housing being lower, it would be an easy transition. The real risk was whether they would bring you with them or leave you behind. I’d hoped that the bond he had with you was strong enough that he would. Everything else after that was pure chance. After I met you, I knew those reports were wrong. I was ashamed. You were resilient and wanted to better yourself. I’m so sorry, Faith. For everything.”
Brady gave me a quick squeeze on my shoulder before he spoke, “This has been a lot for us today, Henry. Maybe it's time to let this all sink in and see how we’re all doing tomorrow.”
Brady guided me toward a bedroom, and I never looked back. Would anything ever be the same again?