by Ana Sparks
I nodded. I didn't like where this was going.
“I may have accidentally let something slip.”
That made sense, and explained why she was suddenly all panicked the next morning. When Chelsea had said she was worried about Joel ratting us out, she'd really been worried about Damien.
“Are you serious?” I asked in low, deadly-serious tone.
“I wish I wasn't,” she said. “I'm so sorry, Megan. I didn't mean for any of this to happen.” Her eyes clouded with tears, streaking mascara down her cheeks. “If I could take it all back, believe me, I would!”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek, holding tighter onto the bed so I didn't spring across the cell and start clubbing her over the head with her own shoe.
Chelsea had stolen the money. Chelsea had brought the money to me, ensuring that I was irrevocably involved in her problems. Chelsea had spilled the beans her one-night-stand, ending in my capture.
And what had I been doing during all of this? Trying to clean up her mess. Apparently, I was the only one doing so, otherwise we wouldn't be in a sweaty Florida jail cell, awaiting word on what horrible event was going to crash into our lives next.
“I can't believe you.” I spoke in a measured, quiet tone, so it wasn't obvious at first how angry I was. But Chelsea could always gauge my emotions.
“Megan, please.” She crossed the cell and squatted low on her ankles, trying to pull my hands into hers. I refused to let her. “Megan, you know I would never purposefully hurt you. I screwed up. I'm so sorry, and I know it might take some time for you to forgive me, but believe me when I say that I never wanted to do this to you.”
I rose suddenly, sending her falling back against the cement floor. I towered over her with tightly closed fists, so tight that I could feel my nails sinking into the flesh of my palm.
“Not meaning to do something doesn't give you a free pass to ruin my life!” I yelled. “I was happy, Chelsea. I had a job I loved. I had a vision for a life that didn't include rotting in jail for the majority of it. You stole all of that from me, because you couldn't use your goddamn brain for one second! And you expect me just to be okay with it because you didn't mean to hurt me?”
Chelsea dissolved into blubbering tears, and for a moment I wondered if I'd gone too far. She had created this mess, yes, but was it bad enough to be deserving of so much of my scorn? Was I being too hard on her? She was going through all of this, too.
I sighed and lowered myself down to her level and leaned against her. “Hey, don't cry.”
Chelsea sniffed and rested her forehead was against my shoulder. Her shoulders continued to shake and tears gathered in my own eyes for everything I'd lost too. My job. Joel. My future. But there was one thing I didn't have to lose in all this, and that was my sister. Maybe it would take me some time to forgive her, but at least I could make a start.
“I haven't told you everything about what I did,” she said after a moment. She leaned back until our eyes met. Hers were pink and puffy, and I reached out without thinking and wiped away some of her tears.
“Henderson and Greaves already told me,” I said.
“They did?”
I nodded. “That's one of the reasons I've been so hard on you. You were so reckless and selfish, Chelsea.”
“What did they tell you?” she asked, her voice thick with emotion.
“That you were having an affair with your boss, and he wanted to end it. Then, you stole the money for revenge, or something like that.”
Chelsea's devastated expression quickly morphed into one of fury. She shot to her feet, and immediately began to pace the floor. I was left on the ground, staring up at her in confusion.
“That rat bastard!” she fumed.
I stood, though my body begged me not to. I was so tired, so achy from all the discomfort and stress of the past twenty-four hours. I just wanted to be in my bed at home, reading or watching TV, or doing anything other than sitting here.
“Chelsea,” I said, trying to get her attention. She was in another world. “Chelsea, who's a rat bastard? Your boss? Damien?”
She stopped and looked at me, expression wild and furious. “It was a lie, Megan. That isn't what happened. Donald is just a disgusting liar.”
“Chelsea...” This time, my tone let her know that I was growing tired of waiting for answers.
Chelsea sighed and slumped down onto the bed beside me, sitting with her shoulders hunched over the side like all the weight of the world rested on them.
“Donald was so charming when I first met him,” she said. “I immediately developed a crush on him, and he knew it. He used it to his advantage all the time, was super flirty whenever we were alone…he knew that I'd do anything for him.”
She reached over and grabbed my hand as the tears began to roll down her cheeks again.
“We started seeing each other, but I didn't know he was married. I swear. He told me that he and his wife had separated over a year ago, but they were still in divorce proceedings so we had to keep things quiet. I’m so stupid. I believed him! It would have been so easy for me to find out about her, but I think I just developed this blind spot, where he was concerned. I didn't want to believe anything bad about him, so I didn't ask. I didn't search. Then, I found out that he and his wife were very much still together, and that she was pregnant with their second child. I freaked out. I tried to break up with him, but he told me that the relationship would be over when he wanted to end it. He turned into this massive asshole, which was so scary after he'd been so sweet for so long.”
“Oh, Chelsea,” I murmured, wrapping my arm around her. “Why didn't you just quit? I know that must have been horrible, but was it worth stealing the money?”
She sniffed. “I tried to quit, too. He told me if I did, he would make sure that I was blacklisted from every other opportunity. He said he would tell people that I stole, or that I was lazy, or whatever he could to make them not take me on. In retrospect, I know that I could have fought him on that, but I wasn't thinking at the time. I was so hurt, betrayed, and panicked. I thought I was going to be stuck working for him and sleeping with him for the rest of my life, or at least until he got tired of me. I was desperate...” She looked up at me, eyes wide and misty. “I made a mistake. A big one.”
I pulled my sister against my chest and stroked her hair as the tears came again. This time, both of us cried, with great, heaving sobs that drained us of our energy. Our angst. Our everything. By the time we were finished crying, we were empty husks. Even if we were still completely screwed, we'd released a stopper of tension between us. It was a start.
“I'm so sorry,” Chelsea rasped after a while. “I'm so sorry, Megan. You can't even know how sorry I am.”
“I know.” I rubbed her back. “Remember that time in high school when I crashed my car, trying to avoid hitting that branch I thought was a snake?”
She laughed, snorting. “How could I forget? I came to pick you up and you were holding a random stick in your hands, crying.”
“You took the whole day off to help me get my car to the shop and fixed before Mom and Dad found out, even though you were saving up for your prom dress and needed the money.”
“I still got the dress in the end,” she reminded me.
“Only because you took on extra shifts,” I said. “And what about the time Robbie McIntyre cheated on me in junior year and you went over to his parents’ house and yelled at him in front of everyone, pretending to be me? People thought I was so cool after that, but they never knew that I'd been sitting at home, bawling my eyes out over a pint of ice cream the whole time.”
Chelsea chuckled again. “I don't even want a thank you for that one. It was too much fun.”
“My point is, Chelsea,” I said, meeting her gaze. “You've done so much for me over the years. You've cleaned up my messes, helped fix my broken heart, and so much else. You've never asked for anything in return, and I'm lucky to have you as a sister.” I smiled. “Being in jail is go
ing to suck, but at least we're together.”
She smiled faintly and then buried her face back against my shoulder, hugging me so tightly I thought my spine would crack.
“I've missed you,” she said. “I was so lonely in San Diego. Part of the reason I started seeing Donald in the first place was just because he was so nice to me. I didn't fit in there. Not like I do when I’m with you.”
I hugged her back. “I missed you, too. Next time you're missing me so much that you want to start an affair with a married man to combat your loneliness, a quick phone call might be a better idea, though.”
She squeezed harder and my back cracked.
“Love you, Sis,” she said.
We fell asleep some time later, curled up on one of the bunks together just like we used to when we were kids. Things still looked pretty bleak, but I was feeling generally more positive about my prospects.
I hated Donald for hurting my sister, and wanted to find some way to punish him—plus, I would need something to keep me occupied for the next several years or so, right? There are worse ways to spend your time than designing an elaborate revenge plot.
Chapter Ten
“Hey!” A loud bang resonated through the air, making my ears ring. “Hey. Wake up.”
I raised my head blearily and looked across the cell. There was a police officer standing just outside the door, and he swung the nightstick against the bars again as if we weren't waking up fast enough.
“What is it?” Chelsea asked from behind me. “What's going on?”
The officer, a portly man in his forties, rested his hand on his belt and frowned at us. “Uh. Well.” He scratched his head with the baton. “You're free to go.”
I thought he was pranking us at first, but lo and behold, the man started unlocking our cell. Chelsea and I scrambled to our feet but kept our distance, distrustful of this sudden and highly unlikely clemency.
“What do you mean we're free to go?” I asked. “That can't be possible.”
“Welcome to Florida,” he said dryly, swinging the door open. “Anything is possible. Most of the time that's not a good thing, but today, you ladies have hit the jackpot.”
“But how?” Chelsea asked, face coated in bewilderment.
He shrugged. “The charges have been dropped. Your employer...” He looked between us, not sure who to address. “Well, anyway, Brinkman Tech found the money they thought you stole. Apparently it was all some big misunderstanding.”
A misunderstanding? Even if they had magically found the money Chelsea stole—which was impossible, given that the last time I saw the bag, it was on a seaplane headed to Andros Island—I didn't understand why they would drop the charges. Chelsea had still done the stealing. She hadn't tried to deny it. It should have been a cut-and-dried prosecution case.
“Are you going to come out or not?” the officer asked, brows creased in irritation. “I don't have all day, and I have actual problems to solve, involving actual criminals. We caught a guy driving a pickup truck full of gators and crystal meth down the South Dixie. Some of the gators got into the meth. It's a goddamn mess in there.”
I could believe it. Still, neither of us moved. Chelsea looked at me with wide, uncertain eyes, and then turned to the officer.
“Are you sure? I mean…I confessed and everything.”
The man sighed, his whole body sagging. He shook his head, clearly having one of the weirdest mornings of his life.
“Look, that’s real nice, but I can't charge you if you haven't committed a crime,” he said, his voice slow and drawling. “And you can't stay here if you haven't been charged. So, I'm going to ask you again, Miss—please leave.” Then, he grumbled something under his breath to the effect of, “I can't believe I have to do this.”
“I don't understand,” Chelsea murmured to me.
“Me neither.” I started guiding her toward the exit, a reassuring hand on her back. “But let's get the hell out of here.”
The officers in the precinct stared at us like we were exotic birds as we walked toward the front doors and the blanket of sunshine just beyond. Whatever had happened to lead to our release clearly wasn't normal, which I found disconcerting.
There had to be a catch. Was Donald O’Malley going to be waiting for us outside, ready to extend his blackmail to both the Redfield sisters? That would be evil, wouldn't it? Even for a jerk like him? I hadn't even worked out my revenge plan yet.
We stepped out of the front doors and I inhaled a deep breath of freedom. It was muggy and hot, and freedom smelled a lot like exhaust fumes and fryer oil. Still, it was a lot better than the inside of that cell.
It took a couple seconds of blinking before my eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight, but when they did, my jaw dropped in shock. Joel was standing at the base of the steps, staring up at me with a smile. It was so good to see him smiling. The image of his woeful expression when I had been dragged into the airport was seared into the backs of my eyelids, but now it seemed like that wouldn't be the last image of him I had to look back on.
“What's Dr. Lockhart doing here?” Chelsea whispered into my ear.
“I don't know.”
“Are you going to come say hello, or are you just going to stare at me all day?” Joel asked, raising a cheeky eyebrow.
I raced down the steps without another thought, jumping into his arms. “I'm so happy to see you!” I exclaimed. “How did you know where to find us?”
He chuckled, pulling me tightly against his chest. “I've got my ways.” He pulled back, examining my face as though he was looking for signs that I'd been hurt. “Are you okay? I'm sorry I couldn't get you out sooner.”
My heart thudded to a halt. “You did this?” I asked. “But...but how?”
He stroked my cheek with his thumb, sending a wave of heat pulsing between my thighs. God, I'd missed his face. I'd missed the sensual curve of his lips and the sparkle in his green eyes, and I'd missed the way those eyes looked at me, as though I was the only woman in the world.
“Let's just say I had a little chat with Donald O’Malley at Brinkman Tech,” said Joel. “As I found out, he's not a very nice guy. I did a little investigating after you and Chelsea were locked up, and I finally knew what it was you were running from. I presented my case to him, and he ended up dropping the charges.”
“That's incredible!”
Joel and I looked to the left, startled, to see Chelsea’s smiling face. We must have been way too involved in each other to notice her approach.
“I can't believe you would do that for us! Thank you so much, Dr. Lockhart.” Her smile was positively beatific. She turned to me and winked. “He's a keeper.”
“Thanks, Chels...” I leaned in toward her. “May we have a minute?”
Chelsea nodded and was already walking away when a woman's voice made us both perk up in shock.
“Girls! There you are! Your father couldn't find the meter, and oh, this heat!”
We both whirled around to see our mother and father huffing and puffing toward us, both wearing way too much clothing for the weather. It never got this hot in Seattle, and I guess in their rush to get to Florida, neither of them had thought to pack appropriately.
My mom, Betty, yanked Chelsea and I in for a big hug, squeezing us tight. “You both smell dreadful,” she said. “Ugh, I never thought I would be picking up my baby girls from a Miami police precinct. My book club is just not going to believe this when I tell them! Especially the part about the handsome doctor coming to the rescue. I hardly believe it myself!”
I was so happy to see my parents that I couldn't even find the energy to be embarrassed about my mother's yammering. Dad stood quietly at the sidelines, waiting his turn for a hug. When Mom released us, both Chelsea and I rushed over to embrace him.
“Should have never let you two leave home,” he said in that quiet, gruff voice of his. “Look what trouble you've gotten into. You crazy girls.” He sounded stern, but we could both see how his eyes twinkled with amusement
. Coming to pick us up was probably the highlight of the old man's week. He loved a good adventure.
I was so caught up in seeing my parents that I forgot about Joel for a moment. Everything was happening so fast. We'd gone from being arrested, to losing all hope, to being free and reunited with our family. I was so happy and relieved I thought I could burst.
When I did turn to look back at Joel, he was already walking away. Panic clenched my throat and I tore myself free from my family to run over to him. I grabbed his arm, urging him to stop.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
He turned and smiled down at me, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I thought you'd want some time alone with your family.”
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, and I had to stop myself from biting my lip.
“I guess you have to get back home, huh?” I asked. “You couldn't stay for a bit?”
“I could,” he said. “But you won't be here.”
“I won't?”
Christ, where was I headed off to now? I just wanted to rest!
He nodded toward my parents, who were still fawning over Chelsea. “Your parents want you to stay with them for a few days. You're all heading back to Seattle together on a flight this afternoon.”
“Oh.” I nodded, understanding dawning on me. I was being dismissed. “Right. Yeah, of course.” I looked down at my feet, shuffling the front of my sneaker against the pavement. “Well, thanks for—you know—everything you did. We'd be completely screwed if it weren't for you.”
“I know.” He reached towards my face, as though he was going to stroke my cheek, but stopped and let his hand drop. “It was really nice getting to know you, Megan.”
With that, Joel Lockhart walked out of my life. I yearned to run after him, to stop him and tell him how I felt, but I was torn. My family were calling me back, and I knew they needed me—now, more than ever. This whole situation had been a huge scare, for all of us.
I didn't blame him for wanting nothing to do with me. Even if he did know some of Chelsea's motivation for stealing the money, we'd still brought him a hell of a lot of trouble. Sure, we'd shared an amazing night together and clearly had a connection, but did that mean that we should try to make something work?