Breathless #5 (The Breathless Romance Series - Book #5)

by Adams, Claire

  “What are you doing here?” he asked me then, holding me out from him at arm’s length and staring at me. I looked up at him in disbelief.

  “What am I doing here? I love you, you stupid idiot. I couldn’t let you just face this alone.” Johnny almost smiled and stopped himself at the last moment, his hands tightening slightly on my shoulders.

  “This isn’t your burden to bear. This is…you should have just let me take care of it, deal with it myself.” I shook my head.

  “Everyone on campus knows I’m your girlfriend and now all of those journalists know I’m your girlfriend. I haven’t been able to go online for days without seeing something terrible either on my feed or on yours, or some article somewhere about this whole mess.” Johnny leaned in and kissed me on the forehead.

  “Who even told you where I was?” I blushed slightly and told him about seeing his truck at the train station, about going to the Phi Kappa house and asking about him, getting the address for his mother’s house, and then getting the address for Claire’s house from his mother.

  “So, all in all it’s been a pretty eventful day and it’s not even three,” I said, smiling weakly. “I had to see you, Johnny. I had to know you were okay and not about to do something stupid.”

  “I told you; you should just forget you ever even met me, cut me out of your life forever.” I shook my head.

  “They all know we’re together now, so what’s the point? If I left you now, it would just make everything worse for both of us.” Johnny sighed and leaned in to kiss me lightly on the lips. He took my hands in his and gave them a squeeze, his eyes closed.

  “I don’t know what to do, Becky,” he said, shaking his head again. “I just don’t know how to make it all stop — for me, for everyone.” The woman who had answered the door came in with another man; I saw that Claire must have gotten her dad’s eyes, and thinking of Claire made me suddenly so sad. I felt guilty that all this time I had been thinking about Johnny, when these two people had lost a daughter.

  “Mr. and Mrs. White,” I said, extricating my hands from Johnny’s and moving towards them. “I’m so, so sorry to sort of…barge in here. I hope you’ll forgive me, but I was so worried about Johnny, I didn’t even think about how much pain this must be causing you.” Claire’s mother smiled slightly.

  “Easy to see why you’re Johnny’s girlfriend,” she said, reaching out and taking my hand. “I am glad that someone is here to talk some sense into Johnny — sense we can’t seem to.” I frowned.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, looking from Claire’s mother to her father. Claire’s father glanced at Johnny.

  “We know that Johnny had nothing to do with…raping Claire or with those horrible pictures that came out,” the man said, swallowing against what I knew had to be deep, lingering pain at what his daughter had gone through. “We know he did everything he could to get her out of there, to try and help her heal, and then…” He closed his eyes, unable to continue.

  “When it all…” Claire’s mom cleared her throat. “He testified against every last one of those boys. He’s one of the prime reasons that they’re all in jail now.”

  “So why can’t the police tell them that? Or something?” I looked at the three other people: Johnny, Claire’s mother, her father.

  “Johnny’s been trying to protect us. He thinks if he takes all the heat to himself, if he turns himself into the police and they ‘investigate’ him again, then it will all go quiet again.” I sighed, and looked at Johnny.

  “I understand that you want to save us the pain, son,” Claire’s father was saying. “But if you this…you’re never going to get past this rumor if you don’t let us clear the air.”

  “If they investigate me again,” Johnny said, “they’ll say that there’s no proof I was involved, that I’m innocent, and you won’t have to be involved.”

  “Johnny,” I said, gesturing to the front yard. “They’re already involved. And if you don’t let them clear your name, then it’s going to keep coming up for the rest of your life — do you really want that? To keep reliving it, and making them relive it, every few years until you’re dead?” Johnny’s face went white at the thought of not only reliving the pain and grief of Claire’s death, but of forcing her parents to relive it, as well.

  “If they put me away,” Johnny said, licking his lips and pressing them together, “then they won’t have to relive it, either.” I scowled at him.

  “You stubborn, stupid jerk!” I couldn’t help smiling sadly even as the magnitude of his sacrifice hit me. “You’re not going to throw away everything you’ve worked so hard for just to satisfy some scandal-hungry journalists, are you? You’re not helping Claire by doing this!” Claire’s father cleared his throat, and we both turned to look at him.

  “Johnny, we’d like to talk to the press; now you can decide that you’re going to turn yourself in for a crime you didn’t commit if you want to, but we all know better. We know you’re innocent. And we want to clear the air.” I gave the older man a little smile of appreciation.

  “If they tell the press that they know you weren’t involved, if they explain what’s going on, then it will all be over. The police know what’s going on; I can’t even believe you think they’d let you turn yourself in.” Johnny looked from me to Claire’s parents, uncertain. “Johnny, this is a chance to finally finish it for once and for all. You owe it to Claire, you owe it to her parents who are still grieving her.” I reached out and grabbed his hand, kissing it lightly.

  Johnny looked at Claire’s parents, and then at me. “Johnny, I love you,” I said finally, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I don’t want to lose you — don’t do that to me, please.” I felt my eyes stinging. “Everyone will get to see you the way I do: the real you. We could be happy together, I know we could.” Johnny hesitated only a moment longer and then he leaned in, touching my face gently, holding me by the cheeks as he brushed his lips against mine, kissing me lightly. He broke away from my lips after just a moment and looked over at Claire’s parents, taking a deep breath and exhaling.

  “I’m ready,” he said quietly, giving my shoulders a squeeze.

  Chapter Five

  It was hard for me to know who was more innocent as we all walked out through the front door of Claire’s parents’ house: Johnny, Mr. and Mrs. White, or me. Claire’s parents had their faces set, neutral and controlled; I could tell that they had spoken to the press like this before — probably in the wake of Claire’s suicide and during the investigation. I felt for them. I couldn’t even imagine what it was like to lose a child. I couldn’t imagine how much pain and grief and guilt they had already gone through, and now they were putting themselves through this additional trial just to clear Johnny’s name. I gave Johnny’s hand a quick squeeze as he moved to stand next between Claire’s mom and dad.

  The press was going crazy: snapping pictures, shouting questions, milling close to the edge of the front porch. I clenched my teeth as they shouted questions that were just flat-out cruel to Johnny about Claire — cruel not only to Johnny, but also to Claire’s parents as well, utterly unfeeling. Johnny raised his hands up in the air, gesturing for the journalists to move back. “We have a statement,” Johnny said, pitching his voice over the shouting of questions. “We are going to talk to you, but you have to move back and let us speak.”

  Gradually, the reporters and photographers and cameramen understood what was happening and they began to quiet down, to move back enough to give Johnny and Claire’s parents a little space. I swallowed against the lump in my throat. I wasn’t sure I would be able or even willing to do what Claire’s parents were about to do to clear Johnny’s name.

  Claire’s mother spoke first, clearing her throat quickly and sniffing. Johnny reached behind and I took his hand; he held onto me tightly. “I wanted to address rumors — rumors circulating about my daughter, who tragically took her life after a brutal attack and bullying.” Claire’s mother cleared her throat again and I wished
that I could do something, anything, for her.

  Claire’s mother told the story, almost exactly the way that Johnny had: that her daughter had gone to the party, and that Johnny had left before the attack had ever happened. “I have no doubts that he was out for pizza,” Claire’s mother said, glancing at Johnny. “And I have no doubt at all in my mind that as soon as he knew what had happened — as soon as he had the slightest inkling of it — he hurried to get back to Claire, to do what he could to help her. He brought her home to us.”

  Claire’s father swallowed before taking up the story. I had to admire both of these people so much — they could easily have refused to speak, refused to be forced to relive what had to have been the most horrible weeks of their lives. No one would have blamed them. “I’ve known this young man for years,” Claire’s father said. “I have known from the first time that he took my daughter out that he was a good guy. I believe it to this day; Johnny Steele could never have hurt Claire. He loved her.” Johnny gave my hand a squeeze, unconsciously.

  I listened as Claire’s father explained the role that Johnny had played in getting Claire home, that Johnny had tried to get Claire to seek help. Claire’s father teared up as he described his daughter’s final days on the planet — the fact that she was hounded by so many people at school. That Johnny had tried to do what he could to encourage Claire to either change schools or seek treatment. “This is a man who loved my daughter,” Claire’s father said, sniffing as he fought to keep from openly weeping in front of the camera. “I miss my little girl every day, but I know better than to blame it on this young man. I know exactly who Johnny is — and I know what he tried to do for my girl.”

  It was Johnny’s turn, and I felt the clamminess of his hands as the journalists waited with bated breath to hear what it was he had to say. I didn’t know what he was going to say, either; I didn’t know what there even was to say anymore, but I knew that Johnny had to address the press with something.

  “I’d like to thank you all for letting Mr. and Mrs. White deliver their statements,” Johnny said. He smiled slightly, wryly. “I’m sure you all have questions that they weren’t able to answer, so now I hope you’ll listen to me.” I couldn’t help but feel proud as Johnny spoke about the love he had felt for Claire, but that things just hadn’t worked out between them; he didn’t share any personal details or mention what he had told me of Claire’s wilder, more flirtatious ways after the breakup. It wasn’t important, and it would only hurt her parents. He came to the night of the party and went through the events one last time — just in case, I thought, someone had missed the previous recital.

  “I’m sure many of you are wondering why there’s a police file on me for the investigation, if I’m so innocent,” Johnny said, looking out at the crowd of reporters. There was a faint little murmur sounding like agreement. Johnny took a deep breath. “The boys who did those horrible things to Claire — they were my friends. They were my teammates.” Johnny swallowed. “I knew that they had to go to jail, but I was afraid to come forward at the risk of losing my other friends on the team. All of the guys on the team wanted everyone to keep their mouths shut, not say anything one way or another. But I knew what I had seen that night.”

  I gave Johnny’s hand a squeeze, and he glanced at me — just for an instant. He continued, “I knew that the prosecution needed all of the information I could give them, if they were going to put the boys who hurt Claire in jail. So I testified against every last one of the guys who attacked her. The file is sealed for my protection. The police were afraid that there might be reprisals against me if it came out that I had testified against my teammates.” Johnny paused and smiled slightly. “I loved Claire, but I didn’t just testify because I love her. I testified because it was the right thing to do. Any girl that I knew about who had that happen to her, I would give her whatever help I could.”

  There was a pause, and I felt like some of the tension had finally begun to ratchet down in the air, the journalists absorbing the incredible information that had been given to them by Johnny and Claire’s parents. In the silence, Johnny pulled me towards him, and Claire’s father stepped to the side slightly so that I could fit between him and Johnny. “Thank you for listening, everyone,” Johnny said. “I think, I hope, I can trust this to be the end of the story. I can’t see any reason to keep hurting people who are already grieving, can you?” There was no way of knowing, but I thought, based on the way that journalists were obviously thinking about and digesting what Johnny had said, that it probably would be. After all, what point would there be anymore to continuing to pursue it if the victim’s parents themselves had gone on the record to say that everyone involved in the case was behind bars?

  Johnny’s arm tightened around my shoulders. I wondered what we should do; declare the impromptu press conference over? Some of the journalists were obviously eager to ask more questions, some of them were nodding, a few were smiling in recognition, acknowledging how much it must have cost Johnny, as well as Claire’s parents, to speak like this. “Does anyone have any other questions?” Johnny asked, sounding, like me, just a little confused.

  “There’s been some speculation that you’ll be sitting out, or even missing, the Championship game tonight,” one of the journalists said, pushing herself forward slightly. “Any comment on that?”

  “I fully intend to be there,” Johnny said firmly. “Hopefully, coach will let me play.” There were a few chuckles amongst the journalists assembled.

  “Is it true that this is your new girlfriend?” someone pointed to me.

  “It is,” Johnny said. “I have a lot to lose right now, which was why I was on the verge of giving into all this. But I’m not used to losing.” A few more chuckles at that, and some of the journalists asked a few more questions about hockey and about Johnny’s college career. “I hate to break this up,” Johnny said, looking at his watch. “But if you guys want to even have a chance at seeing me win the game tonight, we’re going to have to get on the road.”

  The journalists started to wander away, and I sighed with relief. Even when they were no longer bombarding Johnny or Claire’s parents with questions about her death, it was a lot of pressure to have them around, watching, taking pictures. Johnny hugged each of Claire’s parents in turn; Claire’s father said something to him, but I couldn’t hear it. Claire’s mother gave me a hug and pressed something into my hand that she had taken out of her pocket. I felt myself tearing up, and I kissed the older woman on the cheek.

  Johnny held my hand as we walked to the car, and I looked at what Claire’s mother had given me. It was a locket — it looked like it had come out of a catalog, and on the back it said “Love, Johnny.” I smiled to myself and showed it to Johnny. “I gave that to her,” Johnny said, smiling slightly, shaking his head. “I gave it to her for her birthday; I saved up for weeks.” I didn’t want to wear it, but I thought that it was fitting that Claire’s mother had given me one of the most important tokens of Johnny’s love for her daughter. It was clear approval of my dating Johnny, and it seemed almost to come from Claire as well as from her mother.

  We climbed into the car, and I thought to myself that I was putting more miles on my engine and my tires in one day than I had put in the whole past month. But it was in a good cause; I needed to get Johnny to the game. He had to get out there and win and show everyone that he was back. I took a deep breath and Johnny leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “Don’t worry, babe,” Johnny said, reaching down and resting his hand on my knee for a moment. “Everything will work out.” I shook my head, laughing as I turned on the ignition and pulled away from the curb. It was a long way back to campus for the championships. I couldn’t quite imagine us making it in time, but I knew I had to try.

  Chapter Six

  Once more I was on the road, making the interminable trip back from Johnny’s hometown. The interstate was a little busier than it had been before, and I mostly just focused on the road around me. It wouldn’t do Joh
nny or me any good to get into an accident when he had a game to get to. “Were you seriously going to throw it all away?” I asked Johnny.

  “I thought it was what I had to do,” Johnny said, shrugging slightly. “I mean, it’s not like I wanted to stop playing, to lose my future…but I didn’t think anything else would make it stop. And Claire’s parents don’t deserve the hounding, neither does my mom.”

  “She didn’t quite believe that I was your girlfriend,” I told Johnny playfully. “In fact, I seem to recall that she said you hadn’t mentioned a girlfriend at all.” I gave Johnny an arch look and he grinned sheepishly.

  “I don’t tell her a lot of things!” he protested. “I didn’t even tell her we were going to the championships.” I rolled my eyes.

  “If only I’d kept my mouth shut. None of this would have happened.” I thought about my parents and their stupid misguided notion that just because Johnny and I were starting to get serious — and I had to admit it was a bit fast for that — that they needed to hire some private investigator to figure out what was in Johnny’s past. My parents had nearly ruined a man’s life, all because they couldn’t trust their own daughter to make good decisions and because they distrusted anyone who wasn’t wealthy.

  As we sped down the highway, going as fast as we safely could, Johnny called his coach to tell him he was coming. “I can play, right?” I heard Johnny ask. I wondered what he would have done if the coach had told him that he couldn’t. Apparently, the coach was just as eager to have Johnny play the championship game as Johnny was. Now I just had to make sure that I was able to get him back into town; we didn’t have very much time at all.

  Johnny and I talked a lot during that drive – not about Claire, but about us. About our future together and what it might look like. I had far more time left in college than Johnny did — we talked about how it would be when he graduated, what we wanted to do together, how we wanted everything to be. I knew that it was a complicated road ahead and so did Johnny; just because we had managed to get past the worst thing in his past, it didn’t meant that everything was going to be perfectly smooth sailing. But I thought to myself that if we could manage to weather what we just had, I would put good money on us managing to stay together through just about anything.