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“Where have you been?” Tanner asks, staring at me. “I’ve been callin’ you.”
“Something happened tonight,” I whisper, my hands still trembling. “I need to talk to you, Tanner. There is something you need to know about me.”
He studies me, really taking me in, his eyes scanning over my body and narrowing. “What the fuck happened to you?”
“Someone attacked me. Someone has been bothering me since . . . Can I come in? I need to talk to you, start from the beginning.”
His eyes widen and he growls, “Someone attacked you?”
“Tanner, I’m okay. Please?”
He nods, and I step past him and walk inside. We walk to his room and when we’re in, he closes the door and turns to me. “You’re freezing. Wait here.”
He disappears into his closet and comes out with a jacket, handing it to me. I sit on the end of his bed, thanking him softly and wrapping myself in the jacket, then I glance at him and my stomach coils tightly with nerves at the realization that I’m going to have to confess the worst part of myself to him, and when I do, he may never want to see me again.
I can’t hide anymore, though.
I have to tell him the truth.
“I have something to tell you that you’re probably going to hate, but I need you to know it, Tanner. I need you to know so you can judge for yourself whether I’m worth your time or not. Please, hear me out, and then you can say what you need to say, or ask questions, okay?”
He nods, grabs a chair, and pulls it over, sitting on it and facing me.
“I was sixteen when it happened. My parents had split up. My father abandoned me, and my mother cared only about herself. I was rebelling, I suppose you could say. My friends and I decided to take my mom’s car and go for a drive to the lake. We thought it would be super fun.
“During the drive there, one of my friends spilled a drink on the floor of the car, a bright, colorful, alcoholic drink. They all started freaking out, and so did I, to be honest. Mom would kill me. I wasn’t drinking, nor was I speeding, but I turned around and reached back to find the can. When I looked back up . . .”
My voice hitches and I drop my head, taking a shaky breath and trying to steady myself.
“There was a girl on the road. She . . . gosh, she was so beautiful. But so broken. Time stood still; it really felt like everything happened in slow motion. She looked at me, and she gave me this smile, this look as if to say she was sorry, and then she stepped out onto the road. I didn’t brake fast enough, and I . . . I hit her. I hit her, and I killed her.”
Dead silence.
I don’t dare look up at him, terrified of what I might see.
“Everything after that was a blur. I was charged and sent to a juvenile detention center for five years, and prison for one. Involuntary manslaughter. Nobody believed me when I said she stepped in front of that car, nobody, but she did. Everyone claimed she was happy, and bubbly, and had no reason to hurt herself, but I know what I saw. I looked right into her eyes—I still remember how beautiful they were. She was so broken, something broke her enough to push her to step onto that road.”
I take a shaky breath and continue. “I served my time, and I got out. Since I’ve been out, someone has been bothering me. That’s what has really been going on. Someone wants revenge—the problem is, they don’t understand that I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean it, Tanner. I’d never intentionally hurt another person. I’ve thought about her every day for the last six years. I’ve punished myself so heavily nobody could possibly punish me harder, but I didn’t mean to hurt her.”
I look up and Tanner is watching me. There is a look in his eyes that doesn’t quite make sense to me. If I could guess, I’d say it was confusion. What has he got to be confused about? If anything, I expected to see horror, not this.
“Tanner?” I whisper. “Do you hate me?”
He stands, running his hands through his hair. “I gotta go.”
He hates me.
Oh God. I knew he would.
“I’m sorry, please . . .”
He looks at me. “It’s . . . I’m sorry, I need to clear my head.”
Then he’s gone.
Just like that.
I’ve lost someone else.
~*~*~*~
“ANY WORD FROM TANNER?” Jo asks, staring out the window of our car as we park across the road from Celia Yates family’s house.
“No,” I say, staring at the beautiful, big home. She would have loved growing up here—anyone would. “No, nothing. I told him everything and he just ran out saying he needed to clear his head. I know what that means. He’s horrified, and why wouldn’t he be? He just found out I have blood on my hands, and I’ve been in prison.”
Jo looks to me, her face soft. “I’m sorry honey.”
I shrug. “It doesn’t matter.”
It does matter, though. My heart aches. I didn’t realize I had come to like Tanner so much. I didn’t realize I had wanted it to go so much further. I thought he’d get it, maybe not understand it, but get it. Surely he knows I’d never hurt someone intentionally? I’ve thought a million times over in my head how it must feel to hear something like that from someone. I’ve pictured myself in his shoes. I’ve tried everything to put myself on the other side.
Maybe he has a right to feel the way he does.
“How are things with you?” I ask Jo.
We’re waiting for Celia’s parents to come home. As we pulled up, they were leaving. I said we’d wait a while, see if they came back. Hopefully they don’t. I want to do this now, because the longer I leave this, the more it eats away at me. We’re still at a dead end with Chase, and so far, I’m all out of options.
Jo shrugs. “Okay, I guess. I have something to confess . . .”
I look to her, eyes wide. “What is it?”
“The other night after the bar, when we went to their place and you and Tanner disappeared to the room, I was hanging out with Tatum . . .”
“Oh, God. Jo, you didn’t sleep with him did you?”
She scoffs. “No, Jesus! But we talked for hours. Gosh, we talked until morning and he took me home. The thing is . . . I don’t know . . . there was something there. Something really strong. Something I’ve never felt in my life. I can’t stop thinking about it, Cal. I can’t stop thinking about him.”
I wondered how long it would take Jo to find someone who tugged on her heartstrings the way they were supposed to. She’s wasted so long with Patrick, it’s hard for her to know what she’s missing out on. Anyone with two eyes can see that her and Tatum have something.
“What are you going to do?” I ask her, getting straight to the point.
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I really don’t. I mean, it happens, right? Besides, I’m not getting out of this easily. I’m sure it’ll go away; I’ll just make sure I stay away from him.”
I exhale. “Jo, honey, does that make you happy? Honestly? Because it seems to me like you’re miserable. I think it’s time you really consider what you’re going to do about Patrick, and get yourself out of this situation.”
“There is no just getting myself out of this situation—believe me, I’ve thought about it. It’ll cause an uproar I’m not sure I’m ready for. I’ll be entirely cut off, which, in the scheme of things, isn’t the end of the world, but I have no money saved and divorces can get messy . . .”
“There is a way—there is always a way. I’ll help you. We’ll work it out together.”
She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “I love you for loving me like that, but I just don’t think it’s that easy.”
“And Tatum?” I question.
She shrugs. “I’ll have to stay away from him. It’s just a crush; it’ll go away. It doesn’t help that I gave him my number, and he’s texting me. I really can’t help but reply, but then I feel like I’m doing the wrong thing to Patrick, you know?”
“Yeah, I get you,” I tell her. “I wish you weren’t in this situation, so that you could be happy. You deserve to be happy. Especially with someone as hot as Tatum. The chemistry between the two of you is off the charts.”
She sighs. “I know. When he texts me, I smile like a giddy little girl. I never felt that with Patrick; it’s crazy.”
“I feel you.”
“Oh, look!”
I turn and see she’s pointing towards the house. Celia’s parents have returned. They only must have popped out for something simple. I stare at them as they drive their car into the large garage, and the door closes.
I turn to Jo. “Are you ready for this?”
She frowns. “No, not really. I’m terrified they’ll lose their minds at me, or even worse, they’ll be lovely and I’ll feel guilty.”
“I’m not going to steal or break anything in their house, Jo. I just want to look. I’m not going to hurt or bother anyone.”
She sighs. “You’re right; I’m sorry. I know you have to do this. Okay, so I’m going to go up and tell them I was in the car that night, and scope the place out as much as I can, see if there is any security?”
“Yes.”
She takes a deep breath. “Okay, here goes nothing.”
She gets out of the car and walks across the road to the front of their house. She glances back at me, then walks up the steps and knocks on the door. I wait, nerves twisting my stomach. The door opens and Celia’s mom appears, smiling at Jo. Jo says something, her hands moving as she speaks, and I see Celia’s mom lose her smile. Then, she steps forward and hugs Jo. She hugs her.
My heart aches.
It really aches.
That poor woman.
I took her daughter.
Jo hugs the woman back, and then pulls away and they continue to talk.
While she’s doing that, I glance around at the large house. I study the windows, the doors, the fences, the neighbors houses. It looks fairly easy to navigate. It’s on a large block, so the neighbors aren’t close, and there are no front fences, so I can get to the front of the house fairly easily. The windows seem to have screens, but often garage windows or bathroom windows don’t have any—those would be my best bet.
Jo steps inside the house, and is gone for about ten minutes. I wait in high anticipation, and when she comes out, I just about leap out of my seat with nerves as she walks across the road and gets into the car. The moment the door closes, she looks to me and says, “They are really nice people.”
“I didn’t doubt it,” I say, my voice shaky. “Well?”
“I told her what you said, and she was so nice about it, saying she always wondered what happened to the rest of us in that car. She told me a little about Celia. We didn’t go far into the house, just into the entrance, so I couldn’t see the living area or anything else, but from what I could see, there wasn’t any security system. Usually, they’re at the front door for when you come in, but there wasn’t anything that I noticed. I didn’t see any cameras, either. I think it’s just standard security—locked doors, screens, things like that.”
That means I might actually have a chance of getting in. I might actually pull this off.