What if I go to jail?
What kind of revenge would a police department bring down on someone who killed one of their own? They never believed me that Randy was violent. They never cared.
He was police, and that was enough for them.
I bite my lip to stop it from trembling and wring my hands together. “He said the police chief knew. He said he helped me!”
“Well, that just makes it obvious that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” Stella arches her eyebrows. “Right? No one was there that night except for you and me. White doesn’t know anything. How could he? It’s not like the police chief goes out to crime scenes to investigate!”
I nod. Stella squeezes my knee.
“Nothing has changed, Ash. You’re still as brave and as strong as you always were. You’re worthy of love. You’ll find a man who treats you right, who loves you and honors you and believes you.”
“I thought I’d found him.” My voice is barely above a whisper. I can’t look at my sister. I feel pathetic. How could I think that Randy’s death wouldn’t come back and bite me in the ass? How could I think that I could just move on from it?
Guilt and fear twist in my stomach. I close my eyes and all I can see is Randy the night that it happened. I was trying to get away from him. Stella and I were on our way to a women’s shelter in the next town. The night before, Randy had gotten drunk. He’d been angry.
He’d used his fists, his feet, his belt. My arms and legs were mottled blue and purple, and it hurt to breathe. He’d broken two of my ribs.
I was just trying to get away.
He found me. We saw the police lights in the rear-view mirror, and Stella and I exchanged a glance. I nodded, and she pulled over.
I don’t know how he found me. It still tortures me, thinking of that night. It was dark, cold, and lonely on that road. Stella had said it was safer than going to her place—he’d find me if I went to her. But his police cruiser pulled up and he stumbled out. A golf club dangled from his hand.
His eyes were black. A vein in his neck pulsed and he took long, confident strides toward me.
Stella stepped between us, and he hit her with the club so hard she crumpled. He hadn’t even said a word. My sister groaned on the pavement at my feet and a sense of calm washed over me. My shoulders dropped, and I let my hands hang at my sides.
“Get in the car.” He wasn’t expecting any resistance. Why would he? He’d broken me so completely that I didn’t even know the depth of my own misery anymore.
When I got closer to the car, I saw his service weapon in the passenger’s seat. It wasn’t holstered, and the safety was off.
That’s when I knew he was going to kill me. He’d probably changed to the golf club at the last minute. It only took a second to grab it. His back was turned. He was standing over Stella, whispering some sort of poison into her ear.
When he straightened up, I squeezed.
All I remember is laughing, mumbling gibberish about him teaching me how to fire a gun. I said it over and over as Stella rushed to wipe my prints from it. She put it down next to his body and dragged me back to her car.
Over a year later, and it feels like it happened ten minutes ago. My hands start to shake.
“A man is in jail because of me,” I don’t know if I’m talking to myself or to Stella. Stella takes a deep breath and I continue. “That keeps me up at night, knowing that some guy is in jail for something that I did.”
“The man they pinned it on killed four other people, Ash. He deserves to be in jail.”
“But not for this.”
She sighs, putting her arm around my shoulder. “You’ve tortured yourself enough, Ashley. You deserve to live your own life. Randy was pure evil, and I’m glad he’s gone.”
“But you’re not the one who killed him.”
Her hand is still on my knee, and she sighs. “No.” She inhales again. “I’m not the one who killed him. I did help to cover it up, though, and that’s just as bad.”
“Do you ever feel guilty?”
“Not for a fucking second.” Her voice is so strong, so pure, that I turn to her in surprise. Her lips are set in a thin, determined line and fire blazes in her eyes. “I wish I’d done it myself, so that I could spare you this pain, Ash. You’re too good for your own good.”
My lip trembles. “I don’t know how to move on.”
She smiles sadly. “Like anything else, Ash. You just do it one day at a time. One hour at a time. One second at a time.”
A sob shakes my body. “I miss Liam.”
“Oh, Ash,” she says, pulling me into her and rubbing my back. “Of course you do. Come here.”
I cry in my sister’s arms until the numbness takes over again, and the pain in my chest dulls to a throbbing ache.
30
Liam
My brother’s victory speech is generic. He smiles for the cameras and shakes hands as his campaign staff beat their palms together.
I’m over it.
His term as mayor is just starting, but I’m over it all. I thought once he won, I would be able to move away from the foundation and do my own thing, but I know that’s not true.
As long as I’m living on my family’s money, I’ll never be free from them. As long as my brother has political ambitions, they’ll use me as proof of what a good family we are. I’ll be the sick little brother who’s giving back to the community, and Adrian will be the beacon of hope.
It’s all bullshit.
I can’t work where I want to work, I can’t date who I want to date, I can’t do anything except smile on cue and trot along behind Adrian like a lost little puppy.
And it’s my own fault.
I let this happen. I never learned anything in college, I never paid attention to anything except running. Now, I’ve lost it all.
I sigh in frustration, not wanting to hear another bullshit speech about how Mayor Maguire will change the face of Denver.
He won’t.
He’ll give a big contract to some construction company that can’t handle the project. It’ll become a big, bloated, over-budget embarrassment that somehow, they’ll be able to twist into something positive.
And I’ll be here, trotting along behind him and smiling, talking about the hole in my heart.
I slip out the door and take a deep breath. Adrian’s campaign headquarters are right near the county courthouse. I look at the stately building and snort. What kind of justice do I believe in? The kind that turns its back on a vulnerable woman?
Isn’t that what I’ve just done?
I start walking toward it, and then I wind through the streets to distract myself.
I turn the corner and see ‘Denver Police’ on the front of a building. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m walking toward it and pushing the doors open.
A uniformed officer is sitting behind a counter. He doesn’t even look up when I walk in.
I clear my throat. “I’d like to speak to Police Chief White.”
The officer glances up at me, arching an eyebrow. He’s bald and the top of his head is shining under the fluorescent lights. He leans back in his chair and laces his fingers over his stomach.
“Yeah?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“Why don’t you give him a call?” He pushes the phone on his desk toward me.
We stare at each other for a few seconds, and then he snorts and shakes his head. He turns back to his computer screen. Frustration builds inside me, but I just sigh. What was I expecting?
I skulk out of the building. I sit down on a bench and sigh. The sky is clear, with thousands of stars twinkling back at me.
I feel useless.
Just completely useless and powerless and purposeless. What is the point of my life? What have I done worth anything, except run pretty fast that one time I won a medal?
I sigh, staring at the night sky. I won’t let myself think of her. You can’t exactly accuse a woman of murdering her husband and then go back
with a bunch of flowers and expect her to talk to you.
Not Ashley.
I wouldn’t want her to forgive me. I don’t deserve to be forgiven. She was the one good thing to happen to me since this stupid hole in my heart became a problem, but even she couldn’t patch me up.
I fucked that one up, too.
The doors beside me swing open, and a large, imposing man steps out. He scans the parking lot and spots me on the bench. I watch him walk toward me.
“I’m told you were asking about me?”
“Police Chief White?”
He grunts. My heart starts to hammer. Why did I come here? I’m not even sure myself. Am I going to confront this man outside the Denver Police Department?
That’s smart.
“So, what can I help you with?” He’s standing next to the bench, and I lean my elbows on my knees. I take a deep breath.
“Do you know Ashley King?”
White says nothing for a second. “What did you say your name was?”
“Liam Maguire.”
“Maguire,” he breathes. “Your brother wouldn’t be…?”
“The mayor.”
“Well, congratulations, I suppose.”
I laugh bitterly. “Yeah, thanks. Anyways, I’m sorry to bother you. I… I don’t know why I’m here. I know—I knew Ashley, and I guess I just wanted to know…” I sigh. “I don’t know. Have a good night.” I stand up, brushing my hands on my legs. I nod to the police chief and gesture past him to take my leave.
“You’re the second person to come see me about Ashley.”
I freeze.
White sighs. “Tell your brother he’ll get what he wants. I’ll announce my resignation in two weeks, so that it doesn’t impact his first few days as mayor.”
“What? I didn’t come here to—”
“Don’t hurt that girl,” he says, taking a step toward me. He draws himself up to his full height and I shrink back despite myself. “She doesn’t deserve more trouble. I’m stepping down, your brother is getting what he wants. Just let Ashley live her life. Otherwise…” he sighs. “Otherwise, all of it would be for nothing.”
He says the last words to himself, as if I don’t even exist. I watch him walk away. He gets into a car and drives off, and I’m still standing there. I stick my hands in my pockets and start walking, mulling over his words.
So he did have something to do with it? I watch the police chief’s tail-lights disappear around a corner and let out a sigh.
By the time I make it back to the campaign headquarters, my brother is still smiling with his stupid dimples on prominent display. My mother and father are shaking hands with everyone they possibly can, and everyone is half-drunk and happy.
I sigh.
There’s only one thing that would make me happy, and she’s painfully out of reach. If I go to her, I make her life worse. If I stay away, I make my own life unbearable.
The only way to keep Ashley safe from him is to stay away, and that hurts more than anything. I grab a plastic wine glass off the drinks table and find an empty chair behind a plant.
The police chief will resign. He knows Ashley and would give his career up to protect her and himself. I think of that file, and all the evidence that points to his involvement in the murder. It’s not enough to stand up in court, but it is enough to ruin a career.
This way, he gets a pension, and Ashley stays protected. Adrian gets what he wants. I watch my brother and shake my head. He should be thanking Ashley, not threatening her. This whole mess probably made his whole river development a hell of a lot easier.
I take a deep breath and toss the wine glass back. It burns as it goes down my throat, making my eyes water.
I guess I’ll have to do the same. To protect her from the public eye, from my brother and his march to the governor’s office, I have to stay away from her.
She deserves better than a trust-fund fuck-up anyway. Staying away from her is the least I can do. I grab another wine glass and slump back on the chair behind the plant, unnoticed and forgotten.
31
Ashley
Stella almost succeeds in purging Liam from my house. She misses his toothbrush, and I don’t have the heart to throw it out. So, for the next month, I see it every morning and every evening. I remember the way he used to nudge my shoulder when we’d brush our teeth in my tiny bathroom, and it makes my heart hurt.
At first, it makes me cry. I feel silly crying over someone I dated for a month, but it felt so real that it’s hard to believe it’s over. Eventually, after a couple weeks, I get used to it.
Liam doesn’t try to contact me, and I don’t contact him. I had nothing personal at the office, so I just never go back. Marcus, Belinda, and Tristan call me a couple times, but I don’t answer.
I don’t play any music for a few weeks. I try to sit down at my keyboard, but it only makes me feel worse. I try my best to get a routine. I start going to therapy again. I start working out. With the couple paychecks I got from working for Liam, I have a little breathing room for a few weeks before I need to get another job.
After a month, the pain starts to fade. The placards with Adrian Maguire’s face on them start to disappear off lawns and lampposts. I don’t watch the news, and I try to stay off social media.
Stella takes me out to Seattle for a weekend, and we go dancing for a night. It’s nice. It feels good.
But it feels almost empty. Even just thinking about Liam gives me more of a thrill than all the things that are supposed to make me feel good about myself.
My therapist says that in order to have a healthy relationship, I need to heal the relationship with myself first. Easier said than done.
How do you heal a relationship with yourself when you’re not sure it’s worth the trouble?
Like anything else, Ash. You just do it one day at a time. One hour at a time. One second at a time.
Red is part of a roller derby team. She invites me along to practice one day, and I’m shocked at the speed and aggression of the sport. Something clicks inside me, though, and for the first time in a month, I feel alive. I’m not sitting at a keyboard trying to ignore my emotions or going to the gym and trying not to cry.
I’m using my emotions. It’s a release I never expected. Red teaches me the rules, coaches me to improve my roller skating, and laughs along with me when I fall over. Her team lets me practice with them, even though I’m not officially one of them.
“This sport is insane,” I say after a tough practice.
Red claps me on the back. “Just like us.”
I have bruises all over my body again, but this time, I’m proud of them. In a way, seeing my body like this is empowering. I earned these bruises every day in practice. I worked for them and fought for them.
They weren’t inflicted on me, they were earned. It’s my body, and it can do wonderful things. It’s strong, and powerful, and resilient. Red winks at me, throwing her bag over her shoulder.
“You coming for a drink?”
My eyebrows jump up. “Sure.”
When we get to the bar, the whole team is there. Bailey Basher, the team captain, greets me with a tall beer and a jersey.
“Welcome to the team, Ashley.” I take the beer as she unfurls the jersey. It reads ‘Pocket Rocket’ on the back, and I start laughing.
“I’m not sure I’ve quite earned that nickname yet.”
“You have,” Red says. “You’re a menace out there.”
My eyes start to water. “You guys really want me on your team?”
“Girl, you were part of our team the minute you walked in,” Bailey laughs. “Come on, drink up and try that jersey on.”
I smile, and for the first time since that awful night with Liam, it doesn’t feel like I have to force myself. I pull the jersey on over my head and clink my beer against Red’s. She puts her arm over my shoulder and squeezes.
“Aren’t you glad you got fired from that horrible job? We wouldn’t have met otherwise.”
Red nods. “I’ve been there.” She smiles, and I see something in her eyes. She understands me—maybe she’s been through something like I have. But in true Red fashion, she doesn’t pry. She’s just there when I need her, and when I least expect it.
So, twice a week, I practice with the team. We have games every Thursday night. At first I’m terrible, but I slowly start to get better. After a few weeks, I’m skating like the best of them, knocking into my opponents and screaming along with the rest of the team.
It’s rough and exhilarating. We don’t win very often, but it doesn’t really matter; next season is our season, as Bailey says. That in itself makes me feel good—the thought that I have another season in me. My life isn’t over just because I’m not dating.
After a month with the team, I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time. I have an interview for a new job, and I haven’t thought about Liam in over a week.
The interview is for a small start-up company with an abysmal salary and a young, dynamic team. When I mention that I’m on a roller derby team, the CEO offers me the job on the spot. When I leave the office, I’m beaming.
Life is good. I duck into a nearby cafe and grab an iced coffee as a reward for getting the job.
I’m finally back to myself, and maybe the heartache with Liam showed me how strong I actually am. In a way, I’m grateful to him. It’s been two months since Liam unceremoniously dumped me, and I’m finally okay with it. He was loyal to his family, and I get that. I no longer feel like I’m just waking up from a long winter of hibernation, or like I’m patched together and liable to fall apart at the slightest bump in the road.
So, when I turn the corner and literally crash into a broad, muscular chest that smells like sex and musk, I nearly fall over. My cup of iced coffee crunches between us, splashing both our shirts and tumbling to the ground.
Liam catches me with a grunt, letting his hand linger on my waist.
“Ashley,” he says in surprise. “Hey.”
Love/Hate: The Complete Enemies to Lovers Series Page 33