This is Our Story

by Ashley Elston

  NOVEMBER 18, 1:32 P.M.

  PRIVATE NUMBER: Oh Shep. I’m so sorry

  I’m not the only one hanging around for a glimpse of the River Point Boys. The media is still here, as are Grant’s parents.

  Since I couldn’t bring myself to go back to Stone’s office, I’ve been hiding out in the small corner near the first-floor deli that sells sub sandwiches, snacks, and drinks. I’ve been texting Reagan throughout the afternoon, getting updates. They’ve been photographed, fingerprinted, and booked into jail while their parents work on getting them out on bail.

  My phone dings and it’s a text from Reagan.

  REAGAN: Bail has been posted. Shep’s parents put up some property as collateral, but the others just wrote checks. They should be out shortly.

  KATE: Okay. Thanks.

  It’s only about thirty minutes more before Shep, Henry, John Michael, Logan, and their parents, flanked by lawyers, step out into the hall heading toward the parking lot. Reporters fire questions at them, but the lawyers hold their hands in front of the camera lens and repeat, “No comment,” over and over.

  I move closer, hoping Shep can see me here, when Mr. Perkins pushes off of the wall he’d been leaning against.

  “You piece of shit!” he yells at the top of his lungs. Everyone stops—the River Point Boys, their parents, the media—and looks at Mr. Perkins.

  He’s pointing at Shep, and everyone, except his parents, take a small step away from him.

  “You killed my boy!” Mr. Perkins yells, his face red with rage.

  Shep’s dad steps forward in front of his son, his hand out, and says, “Now, wait a minute…”

  But Shep grabs his arm, stopping him. He moves in front of his dad and faces Mr. Perkins.

  “I swear to you, I didn’t shoot Grant,” he says without breaking eye contact. Then he turns and looks at the other boys and adds, “He was my friend.”

  The other boys shuffle around and look everywhere but at Shep. It’s quiet for about three seconds, then it’s chaos again. The reporters’ questions are louder, as are the lawyers’ pleas for the boys to keep quiet.

  The crowd starts moving again and I’m frantic to get Shep’s attention. I want him to know I’m here for him when it seems like very few others are.

  Keeping close to the wall, I pace the crowd. Just before they go through the doors taking them to the parking lot, Shep looks over his shoulder. And his eyes fall on me.

  I give him a tight smile and he gives me a small nod. It’s not much, but for now, it’s enough.

  Reagan comes up beside me. “You ready to get out of here?” she asks.

  “More than ready.”

  The three of us stand in a circle, at a new spot…one we’ve never been to before.

  “How did it get pinned on Shep?” one of us asks.

  We were all shocked by the charges today, Shep more than anyone else. Even I was surprised they gave someone like Lindsey so much credit. She must have sold the shit out of her story.

  Shep got hit hard…second-degree murder. There’s a part of me that feels bad, but I’d rather it be him than me.

  “I don’t know, but we’re screwed, too. I can’t go to jail, man. I just can’t. They think we’ve been covering for him, but I don’t know shit! I’ve been telling y’all that for weeks!”

  The other two are freaking out and I’ve got to calm them down before they do something stupid.

  “Y’all need to relax. Let’s find out what they have on Shep and see how bad it is. They must know something we don’t,” I say. “Second-degree means it wasn’t an accident. Maybe Shep wasn’t who we thought he was.”

  At this point, the other two will agree with anything to save their own asses.

  “We all need to go home and keep our damn mouths shut. If we stick together, they can’t touch us.”

  They nod and we all walk off to our vehicles. I think about Lindsey. I don’t think she’ll hold up long under questioning. And I’m screwed if she tells them what I said to her.

  I check the glove box and see that the bag of pills is still where I left it.

  Reagan and I are on the couch, an empty pizza box open in front of us. We’re digging straight into the ice cream, no bowls needed.

  “So you’ve been seeing him?” she says. I told her just enough to explain why I’m so upset, but I didn’t tell her everything.

  “A little. It’s not what you think. It’s not like we’re dating. We’re just trying to figure out what’s going on. He wants justice for Grant as much as I do. Probably more.” I don’t tell her about the picture with the threat, because I know her. She’d go straight to them and threaten them right back.

  “How do you know he’s not using you for information? He got hit with second-degree murder today. That’s not something they throw around lightly.”

  I dig another big scoop of ice cream out. “I know. I was in there. But it’s wrong. They have it all wrong.”

  She’s skeptical and I don’t blame her. I’d feel the same way if things were reversed.

  “I don’t like it,” she says. “And I don’t want you hurt by this.”

  “Me either.”

  Reagan stays until she thinks I’m better. She’s meeting Josh to study and it’s hard not to be jealous that their relationship isn’t bound by secrecy.

  A few minutes after she leaves, I call Shep.

  “Hey,” he answers after the third ring.

  “Hey,” I say. “God, I’ve been so worried about you. Are you okay?” Of course he’s not okay, but I don’t know what else to say.

  “No. What happened in there? Why is it all on me?”

  I take a deep breath. I’m not supposed to tell him, but I know she’s lying, and Shep needs to be prepared for what he’s up against. It won’t be long before the defense files a motion to get everything Stone has anyway. “Lindsey Wells was the girl who testified. She said it was you. Said she heard Grant say your name on the phone just before he was shot.”

  Shep’s quiet for a long time. So long, I think he’s not there anymore.

  “Shep?”

  “I’m here,” he whispers. “Why would she say that?”

  The despair in his voice is like a punch in the stomach.

  “I don’t know.”

  I hear his mom in the background, and he gets off the phone quickly. I try to focus on my homework, my financial aid applications for college…anything to get my mind off of what happened today, but it’s no use.

  Even though it’s risky, I need to see him. Need to make sure he’s okay.

  Shep’s family lives on Old River Road, which is basically a long strip of old plantation homes on the bank of the Acadiana River. Since I can’t park in the driveway, I pull into a small wooded area on the opposite side of the street from Shep’s house.

  The heavy clouds cover any moonlight that might light my way, so I trip and fall about every other step. By the time I get in the front of Shep’s house, I’ve got dirt and leaves stuck to me in random places.

  The yards are big on this street, so I’m a good distance from any neighbor. And no one is on the roads.

  I work my way around to the backyard, keeping to the shadows. At least the big windows across the back of the house that look out onto the river make it easy for me to see inside. The house is dark and quiet.

  Pulling out the burner phone from my back pocket, I send Shep a quick text:

  I wanted to see you. I’m in your backyard.

  Can you come outside?

  It only takes a few seconds before a light turns on and the curtain is drawn back.

  And then I see his face.

  Even from here, I can tell it’s bad. He’s wrecked.

  He pushes open the window and hangs halfway out.

  I step out of the shadows and his face lights up when his eyes land on me.

  Shep motions for me to come up, but I shake my head. He points to the side of the house, and I step through the yard and turn the corner.


  On the other side of the house, there is a narrow staircase that leads to a balcony. Shep appears on the balcony and again motions for me to come up.

  I take each stair slowly, hoping to avoid any creak or noise. I have no idea where his parents’ room is, but obviously he feels like it’s okay for me to be inside his house.

  He meets me at the top of the stairs and I jump into his arms. Shep buries his head in my neck and we hold on to each other.

  “You have no idea how bad I needed this,” he says.

  “Just as bad as I did.”

  He breaks away and pulls me across the balcony, toward an open door. Shep closes the door once we’re inside, and the only light on in the room is a small lamp by his bed. His room is big, large enough that there is a seating area on the other side of it, with a couch and huge TV and gaming system. His bed sits closer to the windows; from up here, he probably has a gorgeous view of the river.

  Shep hesitates a moment in the middle of the room—between the bed and the couch. I make the decision for him and pull him to the bed.

  We stretch out, side by side, just like we have on the floor of the tree house, but this is a thousand times more comfortable. He rolls over and switches off the light, the room falling into darkness.

  His hand reaches for mine and we lie there, in the dark, hands clasped together. My eyes haven’t adjusted to the darkness yet, so I can’t make out any details of him. I pull him closer. Our faces are just inches apart, but neither of us close the distance.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how to warn you. It all happened so fast.” I’m crying and he finds my face in the dark and wipes away my tears.

  “You did prepare me. Last night after you called, Dad and I had a long talk. The first honest talk we’ve had about this whole thing. I told him everything I knew. Something in my gut told me it was going to be bad today. You did warn me.”

  “Why do you think she named you?” I ask.

  He pulls me even closer until we’re touching from head to toe. “I think whoever sent us those pictures got to Lindsey somehow. And he’s probably going to push the others to turn on me.”

  “So what are we going to do?” I ask.

  “We?” he asks. “Not we, me. You’re not getting mixed up in this more than you already are.”

  I take a deep breath and work up the nerve to tell him the last thing I’ve been hiding from him. “I’m with you in this no matter what. It’s my fault Stone went after y’all the way he did. The DA asked him to lose this case, but I convinced him to dig deep. To find out what really happened, because I thought you were Grant. I wanted justice for the guy I had fallen for. And I ran into Lindsey a few days ago. Told her if she knew something that would help Grant’s case, that she should come in and tell Stone. I just wanted justice and for this to be over for you. But instead, you’re the one in trouble.”

  His hands go to my face. “This is not your fault. There should be justice for Grant—no matter how big of an asshole he was, he didn’t deserve to die. One of those guys shot Grant. On purpose. One of them is sending us threats and probably threatened Lindsey. This is on one or all of them—not you.”

  He kisses me quickly. Deeply. And I search for absolution, because no matter what he says, I feel guilty.

  We lose ourselves in this moment, desperate to erase what happened today and to forget what will happen tomorrow.

  His hands roam across my back, wrap around my sides, pull me in as close as he can. How many more moments like this will we get? Our legs tangle together and we press against one another. How many more midnights will we lie together, sharing our secrets, blocking out the rest of the world?

  I pull back slightly and frame his face in my hands. Eyes adjusted, I can now make out the details of his face. The deep-set brown eyes, the strong cheekbones, the full bottom lip.

  “We’re a team, remember? We’ll figure out a way to get through this,” I say.

  He nods but doesn’t answer. Then we hear a noise downstairs that makes us both jump.

  “I better go,” I say.

  It’s hard leaving Shep, but I stayed longer than I should have.

  I keep to the edge of the road on the way back to my car. Approaching headlights have me ducking behind an overgrown bush. I wait for the car to pass, but instead of speeding by, it slows down.

  It’s a truck I’ve never seen before, and the longer it idles there on the side of the road, the more my hands shake.

  “Why are you hiding behind that tree?” a voice booms from the truck.

  Crap. I’m totally busted. I peek my head around and find the passenger-side window is rolled down. It’s dark inside the cab of the truck, so I can’t make out who’s inside.

  “What are you doing here?” Before I have a chance to do or say anything, he’s out of the truck and moving toward me. When he steps in front of the headlights, I can see it’s Logan.

  Oh God. Why is he in that truck and not his Tahoe?

  I try to shrink back in the shrubbery.

  “I asked why you’re here. Snooping around? Spying on us? Again?”

  I shake my head and try to find the voice that has totally deserted me.

  “No, I…ummm…I was just driving around…” I’ve got nothing. No good excuse for being here at this time of the night, and by the expression on his face, he knows it, too.

  Logan stops just inches from me. He’s not as tall as Henry or Shep, but he’s built like a linebacker. His hands are fisted by his sides as he glares at me.

  “Why are you here?” he asks in a cold voice.

  “I don’t know. I was just driving around, thinking. Am I not allowed to do that?”

  He pulls a phone out of his pocket and taps the screen.

  “Hey,” he says in the phone. “Come out here. I’m across the street in front of the Smiths’ house. I found something you need to see.”

  And then he ends the call. I can’t stay here. I’m not sure who he called, but I can’t be here.

  I try to move past him, but he holds an arm out, blocking me between him and the tree behind me.

  “You’re not going anywhere.”

  My heart beats so strongly, I’m sure he can hear it. “You can’t keep me here,” I say, hoping I don’t sound as frightened as I am.

  “Well, we can call the cops. Let them sort this out,” he says with a smirk and a laugh.

  “Call them. I’m not the one who just got bailed out of jail, though.”

  At this point, I’d rather answer to Mr. Stone than stay here with him one more minute. Using both hands, I push against his chest with everything in me. He’s surprised for a moment, and I slip past him, but I don’t get far before he catches up, pushing me against the bed of his truck.

  “No, no, no,” he says in a mocking voice.

  I’m facing his truck and he’s behind me, pressing me into the cold metal, his arms on either side of me. I can feel him against me and I’m terrified. He leans in closer.

  All of those different self-defense moves rush through my brain. I should stomp on his foot or somehow kick him in the balls. I pull my arms in close, preparing for my attack, when suddenly, he’s gone.

  I scramble around, trying to determine where he went but find Shep instead.

  Shep’s here.

  His back is to me and he’s standing in between me and Logan, who is on the ground a few feet away.

  “Are you okay?” Shep asks without turning around.

  “Yes,” I mumble quietly, wrapping my arms tightly across my chest. The adrenaline is leaving me, making me jittery.

  Logan stands up slowly and moves toward Shep. “Man, I was headed home,” he says, pointing down the street, “and I thought I was doing you a favor, letting you know she was spying on us, but seems like you already knew she was here. I guess there’s more to all of this than you’re telling us.”

  “Kate, you need to leave. Right now. Get in your car and go,” Shep says to me.

  Logan’s eyes glance from me
to Shep and back to me.

  What’s going to happen if I leave? Will they start fighting? “Are you—”

  “Go. Now,” Shep says, his voice urgent.

  “Well, well, well…look’s like my boy Shep’s got it bad for the girl with the camera.”

  I edge away, my eyes never leaving the two of them. Logan blows me a kiss and Shep takes a step toward him.

  Logan laughs and the sound knots my stomach. I turn to leave, but something stops me. I’ve never been put in a position like the one Logan put me in, and I hate him for scaring me. For making me doubt my ability to take care of myself. So I turn around slowly and stand next to Shep.

  “Kate,” Shep says under his breath.

  Logan cocks an eyebrow at me, daring me to say something or do something, and before I can even think twice about it, I say, “Looks like that scar you got from ‘shaving’ is almost healed. Come near me again and I’ll open it back up.”

  His hand flies to his neck, and if looks could kill, I’d be dead on the ground. I may have made this situation worse, but at least I stood up for myself.

  I throw Shep a quick glance as I turn to leave, and I can’t miss the pride in his eyes.

  When I hit the pavement, I make a run for my car. Within seconds, it’s cranked and I’m down the road, far away from Shep and Logan.

  I grip the steering wheel to try to stop the shaking. I just threatened Logan. And showed him how much I know about this case. Whether or not he’s the one who sent the picture, he knows there is something between me and Shep now for sure. If the others were going to turn on Shep—I’ve just given them a good reason.

  I should have never come here tonight.

  This could be over by the end of the week.

  Some of us are feeling bad for Shep, but I remind them all of the evidence is pointing to him killing Grant. And when everyone hears Kate was with him tonight, it just proves how much he was keeping from us.

  Life in prison.

  I wonder how it will be at school tomorrow. The lawyers want us to go, keep up the façade. Look the part of the well-mannered sons of Belle Terre.