D.O.R.K. Series Box Set: Diary of a Rocker's Kid, The Sister Code, Twin Wars

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D.O.R.K. Series Box Set: Diary of a Rocker's Kid, The Sister Code, Twin Wars Page 57

by Haley Allison


  I wish I didn’t have the sinking feeling she’s going to get off from this scot-free…

  Ttyl,

  Mads

  On January eleventh, I head to school with trembling knees and sweat beading in my pores. None of my side of the story has been broadcast yet. Everyone still thinks I’m the devil for what was written in my diary. I get nasty looks from several people when I reach the covered walkway, but some people look impressed. They must think it took balls for me to post my secret plans out there for anyone else to see. I straighten up as I approach the door, trying to project an air of confidence even though I feel like crumbling on the inside.

  All the whispers and murmurs that greet me as I enter the hallway fade into a roar in my ears. It’s all just words. Opinions that shouldn’t matter to me because I don’t like most of these people. They can say and think what they want about me. It doesn’t make their opinions the truth. I know who I am and what I stand for, which means I can stand tall and own this place, knowing that soon they’re all going to owe me a favor.

  Chandler and Devon meet me at my locker with sympathetic smiles. They guard me from the people around me until I have my things gathered. Dalton passes by, but doesn’t glance in my direction. My heart sinks. If he doesn’t act like he’s still my friend around here, people are going to think the diary was legit.

  Shaking my head, I force my fearful thoughts out of my mind. It doesn’t matter what people think. What matters is the truth. Dalton and I are still friends, and he knows I didn’t write all those things about him. Let the other students think what they want. At the end of the week, everyone is going to find out who the real villain is around here.

  Logan squeezes my hand as I leave him to go on the other side of the wooden railing. My lawyer, Charles, is standing in front of his chair on the plaintiff side of the courtroom waiting on me to join him. I take my place beside him, feeling comforted by his composed demeanor and self-assured smile.

  “Good morning, Madison.” He reaches out to shake my hand.

  “Good morning, Mr. Benson.”

  “Please, call me Charles. How are you feeling?”

  “Nervous,” I answer honestly. “I’ve never been in a courtroom before. I don’t know what to expect.”

  “Just leave everything to me.” He rests a fatherly hand on my shoulder. “I have a feeling this will be an open-and-shut case. The evidence you acquired for me is unmistakably stacked against her. If they rule in her favor, I’d be surprised.”

  Breathing out a sigh, I smile. “That’s a relief.”

  Raven enters the courtroom with her lawyer. Her glowering eyes immediately meet mine. I can’t help the smile twitching at my lips. Seeing her angry only serves to bring me joy now. I love the fact I finally got her to do something so stupid even she can’t get out of going to court for it.

  Then Jess is wheeled into the courtroom, and my jovial attitude completely evaporates.

  I haven’t seen her in weeks. There’s an oxygen tank being wheeled in beside her. She has to sit in the back with a tube attached to her nose, barely remaining upright in her wheelchair. Her face is nearly unrecognizable under the short cropped wig she’s sporting.

  Her weary eyes lift up to meet mine. I can’t discern by looking at her who she’s here for—Raven or me—until her personal assistant takes a seat beside her wheelchair on the defendant side. My chest burns with indignation. I guess no matter what Raven does, her guardian parent will always take her side, literally.

  When the announcer calls out, “All rise,” I simply turn toward the front of the room. Our judge is a stately man with a bald head and kind eyes. He takes his seat and moves through the ritual I’ve seen on TV a bunch of times where they read through a summary of the case and introduce the plaintiff and defendant.

  While Charles argues for me, I get lost in all the legal jargon and terminology. I’m glad the judge and lawyers know what’s going on, because I definitely don’t have a clue. I watch as he presents the evidence with confidence. He seems to know he’s got the win in the bag.

  Then Raven’s lawyer stands up and gives her defense. One word dominates his speech, and even I know what it means to our case.

  “Psychosis.”

  She’s pleading insanity.

  The lawyer goes on to present medical evidence of Raven’s psychotic tendencies and argues that she was told by the voices in her head to get me out of the way so nothing would stand between her and the spotlight. My eyes train on her with shock. If what he’s saying is true, she’s more deranged than I realized. Voices in her head? Is she serious?

  I glance back at my love and have to stifle laughter behind my hand when he makes the cuckoo symbol by twirling his finger around his ear. Logan’s right—this is absolutely nuts. My lawyer still appears unfazed. He’s either good at faking confidence or still believes we have an easy win.

  After the defense, the judge calls our witness—Kiki—to the stand. Kiki gives testimony that Raven threatened to ruin her and her family’s reputations if she didn’t go along with her plans. The screenshots of my original diary entries are presented, and Kiki agrees that those are the screenshots she took before giving Raven my password under threat of retaliation. Raven’s face is scarlet with fury by the time Kiki comes off the stand.

  Chandler also gives testimony to Raven’s craziness, and then some of Raven’s current slaves get up on the stand to argue in her defense. All they can do is testify that she is indeed psychotic and doesn’t have control over her actions.

  Finally, the trial comes to an end, and the jury leaves the courtroom to deliberate. Logan takes me to lunch for an hour while we wait. At a little sandwich shop nearby, we sit across the table from each other and Logan eats his French dip sandwich in silence. I try to eat mine, but I can only nibble a few bites. When he’s done, he reaches across the table for my hand.

  “You got this, sweets. Try to believe that.”

  I look into his sweet eyes and smile. “I’m trying.”

  “Even if you don’t win, I think you’ve scared Raven shitless now. Hopefully she’ll know you’re a person who can’t be messed with after this.”

  “I hope so, too. It won’t be enough if she leaves me alone, though. She needs to be stopped entirely.”

  Logan nods. “I think she will be. Just wait and see.”

  Squeezing his warm, firm hand, I whisper, “What would I do without you?”

  When the hour is over, we return to the courtroom to await the verdict. The jury returns, and a short, white-haired woman stands up to read off a piece of paper.

  “The jury finds the defendant, Raven Redinger, guilty on one count of misdemeanor libel.”

  The judge sentences her to pay a large sum to me for damages, which of course I know is going to come out of Jess’s ample pockets and not Raven’s. My body slumps in the chair. The lawyer looks at me with a triumphant yet sad expression. Our victory is still a victory, but it’s slim and less than satisfying.

  When I drag out of the courthouse with a hollowed-out chest, Charles stops to shake my hand outside the door.

  “It was a pleasure working for you, Miss Daley. If you ever have need of legal services again, please give me a call.”

  “Of course I will.” I smile. Even though it wasn’t the result we were hoping for, he still won the case.

  Raven walks by with her lawyer, and her eyes flash to mine, sparkling with suppressed laughter. We didn’t fool anybody. The little witch knows she was the real winner here today, too. An overpowering urge to maul her on the steps simmers inside me, but I push it back, knowing I don’t want to go anywhere near a courtroom again any time soon.

  “Nice try, sis,” she whispers like a snake as she passes me.

  Rigidity seizes my shoulders. If I were a dragon, I’d be snorting fire. My nose is healing nicely, so it would be a bad day for her.

  Don’t attack her in public…don’t attack her in public…

  Charles leaves us, and Logan wrap
s his arm around my shoulders.

  “Ready to go home? I’m making steaks tonight.”

  My anger gives way to aching hunger and a watery sensation in my mouth.

  “Yes, please.”

  January 15

  We Won…Sort Of

  Raven was charged with a misdemeanor libel offense for hacking my original diary.

  Going to court today felt like a game of tug of war where you have to pull so hard to win that you fall in the mud and get murky water up your butt crack. The thrill of victory was squashed by the fact that Raven got off so easy. Jess has to pay a fine. Whoop-dee-do. It’s not going to break either of them, least of all Raven. She crushed me, and in return, I slapped her on the wrist.

  I’m starting to think there is no beating my sister. For the rest of my life, she’s going to deal blow after blow, and I have no real way of striking back. My best hope is to get as far away from her as possible. After this school year is over, the only place she’ll ever see me is in the news. As far as I’m concerned, she is not family and never will be. I’d never be able to trust her after everything she’s done to me. Once Jess is gone, that’ll be the end of our family ties.

  And if I lose Dad, I’m not going to have any family at all.

  Logan, Dalton, and Devon are my new family. Ana and Jerica are like family, too. They’re the ones I know I can count on through all of this. Blood relatives can suck, but true friends are forever. I never knew how much I was missing out on by being so secluded back in Kentucky.

  I’m thankful especially for Logan right now. He was shamed in front of the entire country and is still head over heels in love with me. In fact, he can’t seem to stop touching me no matter what I’m doing. Yet he still won’t take me up on my many offers in the bedroom. This man is a total mystery. At least it keeps things interesting.

  Ttyl,

  Mads

  On Saturday, the band gathers again for the first time since before winter break. Max was updated on everything by Dalton, so he flashes me a sympathetic look when I first walk in the door of the rehearsal studio.

  “Hey…you holding up okay?”

  I smile. Max and I aren’t close, but he’s a bandmate. I know we’ve got each other’s backs no matter what.

  “I’m okay. Thanks. I’d like to keep the focus on the music today instead of me. I need to get lost in it and forget everything.”

  All the guys consent to that. We musicians are all the same way. Music is our therapy. It’s the only thing that can make us truly feel whole and let go of our troubles.

  After setting up our respective instruments, we get right into practicing for the talent show. Now more than ever, I need to beat Raven’s ass. I need to do something better than her. Anything. She’s not going to defeat me so easily. This song is starting to sound like a winner: a rock ballad mixed with a pop song mixed with a good, solid beat. You can’t get much more “crowd-pleaser” than that.

  About ten minutes into rehearsal, the studio door opens. Everyone stops what they’re playing and watches Dad and Cass enter the room. My posture immediately stiffens, and my belly coils with anxiety. I can feel myself giving him a hard glare. Then I notice he’s holding something in his right hand.

  It’s a guitar case.

  I eye it curiously, wondering what his agenda is. His old guitar that he gave to me is still in my possession. Is he planning on playing with us today? If so, why? As far as I know, he and I are still not on good terms. He shouldn’t even be here today.

  I set down my guitar in its case and saunter across the floor to meet Dad. He makes a move to hug me, but I bristle and lean away.

  “What are you doing here?” My voice is strangled between pain and frustration.

  “I figured you would be here, you and your indomitable spirit.” His smile is soft with the warmth he’s always associated with me. However, the tenderness only serves to make me harder.

  “Can I help you with something? We’re kind of in the middle of rehearsal here.”

  “Look, honey, I came here to tell you I’m sorry.” The weight of that statement hangs heavy in his eyes. His facial lines seem to have deepened since the last time I saw him. “I’ve been so worried about you over the past couple weeks. I wish you would have answered the phone. Ana had to tell me where you were and that you were all right. I was about to call the police.”

  Crossing my arms in front of me, I keep myself rigid, not wavering.

  “There’s a lot of hurt and anger still here, but I want you to know I realized on my own the person who wrote all those things was not you, even before I saw the news about Raven.”

  My attention is captured. “What? How?”

  He chuckles. “Sweetheart, by now I know your writin’ style even better than my own. Your Nana used to show me your papers back when you were homeschooled. You have incredible talent, and the biggest thing I noticed was that your grammar is impeccable. Did you know there were some massive, obvious typos in some of your journal entries?”

  The way my jaw drops gets everyone laughing, even Cass. Changing what I wrote is one thing, but making me look uneducated on top of that?

  “That definitely wasn’t me. Even in my journal entries, I’m careful.”

  “I know.” Dad smiles and inches closer to me. “The question is how did Raven get a hold of your diary in the first place?”

  “It’s a long story. I took her to court for it, though. She was convicted of libel.”

  “Yes, I saw that. So…you went to court all by yourself?” He looks sad, regretful that he wasn’t there to support me like he should have been.

  “Well, not quite by myself. Logan went there with me, and Jerica was the one who hired the lawyer for me.”

  Glancing behind me at Logan, Dad asks, “So you two are still together?”

  “Yes, sir,” Logan answers, puffing out his chest with pride.

  A smile tugs at my lips as I look back at my lover boy. “We broke up for a few days, but I won him back by showing him the truth.”

  Shaking his head, Dad regards me with amazement. “Baby girl…well, I guess I shouldn’t call you that anymore. You’re the furthest thing from a baby. I can’t believe you’ve been handlin’ all of this by yourself.”

  “Yeah, well I didn’t trust that you would believe me.” My glare is accusatory.

  Dad blows out a sigh. “I messed up bad this time, sweetheart. There’s nothing I can say or do to make up for this. You have a right to hate me forever for not listening to you, but first, I want to show you what’s in this case.”

  Raising an eyebrow at him, I wait for him to continue.

  Dad sets the case down on the couch and flips open the metal latches. I follow him and stand nearby as he pulls up the lid. My chest expands with a gasp.

  Inside the case is a black and purple guitar with fire markings on it. The shiny new strings and silver lining on the outer rim of the guitar beckon to my senses. I watch with jealousy as Dad picks it up first. Pulling the strap up into my view, Dad shows me the name embroidered on it—

  Madison Daley

  My breath shudders as he passes the guitar to me. Every detail about this instrument practically screams my name, all the way down to the sharp angles of the horns.

  “Bribing me with instruments, huh?”

  “Is it workin’?”

  “A little bit.” The other people in the room laugh.

  Cass comes up to meet me. Our eyes meet and we exchange a smile. We know each other’s soft spot for guitars. On an impulse, I pass the guitar back to Dad and attack Cass with a hug.

  “Cass, I’m so sorry you had to read all that. I didn’t write it and none of it is true, I swear to God—”

  “I know.” She kisses the side of my head.

  I let her go so I can get back to gushing over the guitar. Dad hands it back to me, and I sling the strap over my shoulder, amazed at how natural it feels wrapped around me.

  “This guitar is epic. The only thing that could make it
better is having our band name on it…” I look back at the guys, and all of us seem to realize at the same moment that we still haven’t come up with a band name yet. That’s definitely something we need to nail down before the talent show, or we’ll look like idiots.

  “There’s time for that,” Dad pipes up. I look into his hurt eyes once again. “Sweetheart, is there anything that would make you consider coming home?”

  “Well…I dunno.” Moving toward the back of the studio stage, I reach for Logan’s hand over his drum set. “Logan and I are living together now. I just—”

  “You think I’m gonna let you live with a man at your age?” Dad’s expression hardens.

  “Dad, you can be my dad again, but that doesn’t mean I have to come home.”

  “You’re still in high school, young lady—”

  “Mike…” Cass lays a hand on Dad’s shoulder, a soft smile creeping up on her face. “Do you remember where we were at eighteen?”

  Dad turns to his fiancée. A look passes between them, one heavy with years of memories and unvoiced love. They’ve told me the stories about their life together in a low-rent apartment in Los Angeles before they were famous. Partying was a nightly activity for them. Some of their nights were spent with each other, some with others. Their love was stifled by the party lifestyle, even though it was always there.

  “We were too stupid to act on what we felt back then. These two are smarter than we were.” Cass smiles at Logan and me. Then she turns to Dad with a pleading expression. “Don’t you think we should let them have their happiness while they’re still young?”

  Huffing, Dad studies us with pained uncertainty. Several moments pass before he makes a slow move toward Logan and me. I tense underneath Logan’s grip, but he rubs my shoulder with his thumb, calming me.

  “I hate the way we left things, honey,” Dad admits. “This is not the way things were supposed to go. You were supposed to graduate high school and come home to your own bed that night. I was supposed to help you move out when you were ready. We’ve had such a good thing goin’ all these years. I don’t want to end on a bad note.”

 

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