Troubled eyes meet mine for the briefest of moments before he focuses on the bottle in his clutch again. “What?”
“Lachlan and I took Noah to the police station this morning and told Detective Varnum what Noah saw that night. We gave them Drew’s information, and they’ve issued a warrant for his arrest.”
Owen raises his head, his glare burning into me. His hands tremble then his whole body shakes, his breathing picks up, and his jaw tenses. “You had no right.”
“Are you joking? Of course I had the right. We owe it to Sawyer to make sure Drew pays for what he did. You’re so blinded by anger and guilt you can’t see that!”
He stands in one quick motion, towering over me, something that used to turn me on, now frightens me to my core. “I was taking care of it, Sloane.” He spits my name like it tastes bitter on his tongue.
“That’s what scares me, Owen! I had to do something because I can’t lose you, too. I can’t let anything happen to you. It would kill what’s left of me.”
He whips his bottle against the wall of the treehouse, and it shatters everywhere, then he turns his back to me. “You already lost me.”
While I’m numbed by his words, he climbs down the ladder and out of view. Paralyzed, I try to understand who that man was, where my husband went.
Will he ever be back again?
Owen didn’t come home last night.
This morning, I visit Lachlan and Noah to make sure they’re okay.
Noah was beyond cooperative with Detective Varnum at the police station. Even more amazing, Officer Hudson got Noah to really open up about everything.
It utterly floored me at how well spoken and brave Noah was as he gave his detailed account. Stopping at a red light, I recall everything that was said.
I was in the backroom getting my shoes because I forgot them in there. Aunt Sloane bought me those shoes. When I had them on, I went into the big room where Momma was waiting for me and there was a man standing in front of her.
I told her, “Momma, I got my dancing shoes on. Are you ready? Lachlan is waiting for us.”
Then the stranger man said, “Lachlan? One big happy family, huh?”
The man looked at me, and he was kinda scary. He had tattoos on his neck and arms but not nice ones like Momma and Uncle Owen’s. This man’s tattoos were bad. Then Momma moved me behind her like she was scared, so then I got a little scared and asked her if the man was a friend.
Momma said, “Yeah, baby, Drew’s a friend. Why don’t you run back to the reception, and I’ll be there in a minute”
Then the Drew friend put his hand into his jacket and pulled out a gun. He didn’t seem like a very good friend to me.
I got real scared when he said, “Let’s all stay here. No one leaves.”
He wouldn’t let me go, so then Momma pushed my face into her leg and she said a bad word. She said, “Jesus Christ, Drew. What the hell are you doing? You can have me. Just let him go. He doesn’t have to be here.”
But I didn’t want Momma to go with the man. I wanted her to stay with me.
Then the bad Drew friend said, “He’s the reason I can’t have you. I told you not to have him. I said you were mine. Once I got out of prison, I knew I had to find you.”
Then he said that his friend told him about Aunt Sloane and Uncle Owen’s wedding. He said Momma was his fate, and I remember that I tried to figure out what that word was. I didn’t know.
Momma called him crazy, and then I heard a punching sound and I jumped, but I didn’t see what the sound was from. The bad Drew friend said he wasn’t crazy and that he waited long enough.
Then he shot the gun, and Momma fell down.
She looked really tired, so I let her rest. Then the bad Drew friend told me that if I said anything he would find me and hurt me, too.
When the room was on fire, I didn’t want to leave Momma, so I just waited with her, and that’s when Uncle Owen and Lachlan came to rescue us.
When the police had finished asking their questions, we were all emotionally exhausted. Knowing what Noah saw and heard was heartbreaking.
After Lachlan put Noah in his booster seat, he came around to the back of the car and crumbled. I fell with him, and we cried for Sawyer, and for what Noah saw.
“We were a few feet away,” Lachlan choked out. “Part of me wishes I never knew the truth. It went differently in my mind. The truth doesn’t set you free, it just shatters any part of you that’s left.”
The memory fades as I arrive at Lachlan’s house. A tear trickles down my face, and I quickly wipe it away before knocking on the front door.
When he answers, I hold up the tray I brought from Chloe’s Cafe. “Coffee?”
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “That’s a sweet gesture. I have alcohol though.”
“That sounds way better,” I say on exhale and walk into his house. “Where’s Noah?”
Lachlan closes the door behind me and motions upstairs. “Watching The Lorax, of course. Third time today.”
I crinkle my nose at the thought of that blasted movie again. “I need to buy him some new DVDs.”
“He has dozens. I’ve tried to get him to watch something else, anything else, trust me. I’m so tired of those songs. This morning I caught myself humming one of them while I made Noah breakfast. It made him chuckle, though, which was nice to hear.” He pours white wine for me and whiskey for him.
“I wish I would have been here to see that. So, he’s okay? Has he said anything else about the police station or what happened that night?”
Lachlan shakes his head, swallowing amber liquid. “He still doesn’t talk that much about it, and, to be honest, I couldn’t stomach listening to any more of it. Knowing the details is torture.” He shrugs his shoulders, twisting a ring on his thumb. “So, last night, after we got home from the police station, Noah told me he wants to go back to school soon. The more I thought about it, the more sense it made. We’ve settled into this house now, he’s talking again, and he got his secrets out yesterday. I made arrangements to meet with the principal this morning, and when he was there, he saw his friends. He’s ready. And it’s gotta be better than staying in his room watching that movie all day.”
“What’d his principal say?”
“She was very understanding and patient. Soft spoken with Noah. She assured me she would fill his new teacher in on what happened and would personally see to it he adjusts well so he’ll be ready for grade one next year.”
“That’s great.” I drain my wine and stand to grab the bottle for a refill.
“While we were there, Noah showed me where his old classroom was and where he sat. He even showed me the spot Sawyer dropped him off and picked him up every day. Fuck, he loved his momma. He’s told me a few stories about what they used to do together.”
My head feels light just thinking about Noah sharing stories of Sawyer. “Really?”
He nods. “Nothing really big. Mostly when I do something, he’ll tell me if that’s how his momma did it. What he likes better. It’s different to see her through his eyes. So much love.”
“They had a great bond.” I drink more, the loneliness inside of me getting stronger by the second.
I feel Lachlan’s worried eyes on me. “So, uh, what’s the latest over at the Matthews house? Have you told Owen we went to the police yesterday? Did you tell him what Noah said?”
I stifle a laugh. “Yes and no. I told him we went, but I didn’t tell him details. He didn’t let me get that far before he left. There really isn’t a Mathew’s house anymore. Owen’s gone. I know he feels betrayed by us, like we went behind his back or against his wishes. It had to be done though. But, in doing the right thing, I officially lost my husband.”
“He might be pissed off at us right now, but he’ll see we did the right thing. It’s only been two months since all this shit happened. It’s hard to put yourself in his shoes, but being inside that room, finding Sawyer and Noah the way we did messes with your head, b
elieve me. Owen was holding her in his arms when the explosion ripped her away. They only had each other for so long growing up. He’s handling it as best he can. He still loves you, Sloane. You’re his wife.”
I shake my head. “It doesn’t really matter anymore what I am to him.”
“Sloane, look at me.”
I mentally shake myself and force my eyes to remain on Lachlan while he speaks.
“You haven’t lost him. Your marriage is not over. You just have to work a little harder to save it. Learn from my mistakes and fight now before it’s too late and there’s nothing left to fight for.”
“Some couples go through hard times and it binds them. They come out on the other side closer than ever. Maybe I gave Owen and me too much credit. Maybe we aren’t built to be one of those couples that makes it through hard times.”
I’m tired of fighting.
I’m tired of being the only one in our marriage that’s willing to save it.
I’m just tired.
I eat my dinner in front of the flat screen mounted to the wall. It doesn’t sound like a big deal, and I’m sure people have a meal while watching TV all the time, but I never have before tonight.
I used to hate how Sawyer made me close Revamped when I was in the middle of working on an inspiring piece to come home and eat with everyone only to head back to the shop later that night. It would frustrate me to no end.
We haven’t had our traditional dinner together in weeks. I tried to keep them going, but only I ever showed up. I’d spend the night sitting at the dining table with three other empty plates. Sometimes Lachlan and Noah stopped by for dinner when they lived next door. They even stopped by once after they moved, but Lachlan signed Noah up for guitar lessons, a recommendation from Noah’s teacher to keep his mind and hands busy, and the lessons run into dinner time.
If Sawyer were still alive, Noah wouldn’t have moved with Lachlan and started taking guitar lessons, and my husband would be able to look me in the eyes.
What I wouldn’t give to jump into Doc’s DeLorean and travel back in time to have one more loud, messy, crazy dinner with my family.
Since those nights are long gone, dinnertime now consists of microwaved frozen food or making a sandwich to eat alone.
We used to always all be together.
Yesterday, I watched a few people snooping around Sawyer’s property, and I nearly sprayed them with the hose. I need to be open to the fact we’re going to have new neighbors one day. Considering the current real-estate market, we’ll probably have neighbors real soon.
So tonight, I eat cross-legged on the floor, a plate of grilled chicken pecan salad that took an hour to make on the coffee table, in front of the TV, watching The Walking Dead reruns. Owen and Sawyer used to watch this show weekly. I never could stand it. All those zombies gave me nightmares, but if I close my eyes super tight, I can almost hear them bickering with each other, and a ghost smile creeps onto my face.
“Sawyer, get your ass in here or I’m pressing play without you,” Owen hollers at his sister then winks my way.
Sawyer rushes into the room with three small bowls of popcorn. For the life of me, I cannot understand how those two can eat while watching this show. I pretend to like it so I can stay and see Owen more. I wish it was just the two of us.
“Whatever, O. If you press play, I won’t tape it next week when you have to work. Then I’ll leave spoilers around the house for you to find at random times.”
I laugh out loud while Owen throws popcorn at Sawyer. “You’re impossible. Sit down.”
With a mouth full of salad, the doorbell rings, and it takes half a second to realize it wasn’t the TV and someone is actually at my house. I’m not expecting visitors. I’m not sure who it could be. Reluctantly, I rise from the floor and tread to the front door, turn the knob and pull to find Officer Nash Hudson on my suddenly small doorstep. He’s in normal clothes again, no uniform—which really messes with my head for some reason. It’s like he’s two different people, Clark Kent and Superman. Showing up at the most random and vulnerable times to save me.
“Afternoon, Sloane. Would your husband be home?” He scans the room behind me before finally coming back to lock on me. His blue eyes seem clouded with emotion tonight.
“Owen? No, I’m sorry. He’s out for the night.” And I literally have no clue where or when he will be back so please don’t ask. Not knowing where your own husband is doesn’t make me feel like a proud wife, and I’m not going into the details of my marriage with a guy who’s pretty much a stranger. “Was there something you needed, Officer Hudson?”
Nash looks back toward the road, running his hand through his hair, coming to a stop at the nape of his neck. He seems nervous and maybe a little…anxious?
Formality flies out of the window as I watch him take a slow swallow. “What’s wrong, Nash?”
His arms drop to his sides, and he motions toward the inside of my home. “Can I come in for a minute? There’s something I need to tell you.”
I hold the door open wider for him, and I catch the scent of his cologne as he passes me. He smells like spicy soap. “Is it about the case? Has Drew been arrested yet?”
Nash pivots toward me and shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Drew was arrested Saturday night and brought in front of the judge on Monday morning where he has been deemed mentally unfit to stand trial.”
“What? What the heck does that even mean?”
Nash stays quiet for a moment too long. “It means his lawyer pled insanity. The judge ordered him to a state mental hospital for a period of 30 days for a fitness assessment. Following the assessment, depending on what his psychiatrist reports, he will appear in front of the judge again where it will be determined if he’s able to stand trial.”
Stunned, I slump to the couch. I lower my head to my hands and try to take deep breaths. “This cannot be happening.”
I feel the couch dip beside me, but I don’t look up. I can’t stop mumbling incoherent thoughts.
“I know this seems like he will never be brought to justice or that the system is failing you and your family, but know this is fairly common. A person is unable to be put through a trial and sentencing if that person seems mentally unstable in any way. This is actually a good thing, Sloane. Once a psychiatrist confirms he is stable, he won’t be able to continue to plead insanity.”
I lift my head and and I’m met with the most understanding and sympathetic eyes. How many times has he had this conversation with victims’ families? How many times has he knocked on a stranger’s home to deliver the devastating news? How many people think of his face when they think of the worst day of their lives?
“And what happens if he actually is mentally unstable? Is there any chance he can get away with the whole thing?”
Nash never breaks eye contact, but there is a glimmer of hesitations before he answers. “I don’t want to lie to you.”
“So don’t.”
“It’s happened before.”
“How many times? What are the odds he’ll walk free after this is over?”
Nash reaches out and puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder, but before he has a chance to reply, the front door opens and closes, and then Owen saunters within view.
TWELVE
Owen
As my home nears, I spot a car I don’t recognize in the driveway. At first, it seems as though the car is parked on the other side of the driveway. The thought of new neighbors strikes me with gut-twisting fear. Curiosity takes hold, and I pull alongside the curb.
But when I walk into my home, I never expected to find Sloane on the couch with another man. They’re close enough his hand rests casually on hers. At the sound of my entrance, he turns to face me and she pulls her hand, moving away from him. It takes me a second to place his face, so familiar. Then recognition comes, and my shock turns to confusion.
“What the hell is going on?” I question my wife, though my eyes don’t leave his.
Slo
ane rises from the couch and hugs herself as if she’s cold. “Nash came over to give us both an update about the case.”
“Nash?” Since when is my wife on a first name basis with the cop?
“I wanted to come here and tell you both in person the details of Drew’s arrest.”
A tinge of sorrow slices me in my stomach. They caught him before I could. “He’s been arrested already?”
Nash rises from the couch, and his casual demeanor reverts back to a professional officer of the law. “Actually, he was arrested on Saturday and faced the judge Monday morning.”
“It’s Wednesday. Why are we just getting updated now?”
“Like I said, I wanted to deliver this news in person.”
Everything about this guy makes me want to punch him in the jaw. “Next time, an immediate phone call will suffice, and you can stay off of my goddamn couch and away from my fucking wife.”
“Owen!”
My narrowed gaze floats to Sloane, and I notice for the first time she’s been crying. Black smudges ring her puffy eyes and her nose is red.
“I didn’t mean to upset you, Mr. Matthews. The case has become complicated, and I thought a phone call would have been too impersonal, too difficult to explain everything I needed to tell you both.”
I direct my next words to Sloane and ignore the guy I want to pummel. “What else is there? He was arrested and now he goes to jail for murder. The end. Why are you crying?”
“Owen, that’s not where it ends.”
When Officer Hudson realizes he’s overstayed his welcome, he leaves, avoiding eye contact with me. Sloane calls Lachlan and asks him over for dinner tonight, even though no one will have an appetite after the news is delivered.
Sloane wants to tell Lachlan about Drew and the fact he isn’t in prison and that, for the next 30 days, he’ll be in a low-security state mental hospital. Un-fucking-believable.
Edges of Gone (The Gone Series Book 2) Page 9