Love Me, Love Me Not (Incongruent Figures #1)

by S. M. Koz

  “I know,” I mumble. “It’s just … she kind of … “

  Dad’s eyebrows are raised. He’s patiently waiting, but I’m not sure how to tell him this part.

  “She … well,” I scratch my head and then spit out the words. “She tried to force me into sex.”

  Mom coughs and Dad drops his fork.

  “I didn’t do it, but she was very … forceful. Then she complained the baby should have its mom and dad together. And basically professed her undying love for me.”

  Mom coughs again and bangs on her chest a couple times.

  “Could that all be from hormones?” I ask.

  Mom and Dad exchange a look and then Dad says, “That seems a bit extreme, even for someone in her condition.”

  “I agree,” Mom says.

  “I feel like she’s trying to trap me with sex. Maybe trap isn’t the right word. Lure me in might be better.” I run my hand through my hair. “Yeah, she wants to lure me in with the promise of sex and then hopes my feelings will magically change.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time someone used sex to try and get their way,” Dad says.

  I know that. The bigger problem is what this makes me question. I’ve proven to myself I can reject her advances, but what if this is a symptom of a bigger issue?

  “I’m a little worried about something else,” I admit.

  “Yes?” He tilts his head, waiting.

  “All of this makes me wonder if she got pregnant on purpose. What if she did it to try and convince me to be with her?”

  “That’s a big accusation,” he says.

  “I know and I feel horrible even suggesting it, but she was crazy this afternoon.”

  “You did only have sex once and she was on the pill,” Mom points out.

  “Exactly! There’s like a ninety-five percent effective rate, right? She says she accidentally forgot to take some of them, but what if she did it on purpose?”

  Dad removes his glasses and lowers them to the table. “Did you ask her about it?”

  “No. God, no. She probably would have started punching me if I had.”

  “What do you want us to do?” he says.

  “I don’t know,” I groan. “Even if she got pregnant on purpose, there’s nothing we can do about it now. I just want her to come to terms with the fact that we’ll never have a relationship, even with Hailey out of the picture.”

  “Would you like me to talk to her mother? I can suggest a therapist.”

  I nod. That’s better than nothing. Maybe with a little therapy, she’ll finally accept the situation for what it is and we can move past this.

  Chapter 36

  BRAD

  The next day is Christmas Eve and I decide it’s time to wrap Christmas presents. I gather the gifts that weren’t stolen or destroyed, the wrapping paper, some tape, and scissors at my desk. I plan on piling the gifts by person, but stop at the first one. It’s the blue clearance fleece I bought Hailey the first full day she was here, when we went to the mall. I’ve had this thing hidden in the back of my closet for months, always looking for an excuse to give it to her, but knowing she was too proud to ever accept it. Now she’ll never see it.

  I toss that on the bed, then open the jewelry I bought on the cruise. We were walking through the streets of Grand Cayman when she stopped at a jewelry store, completely enamored by some type of stone specific to the island. It’s a mixture of tans, blacks, and peaches arranged in several layers. I was especially proud of how I snuck away to purchase the pendant necklace while she grabbed a snack at a convenience store. I’ve never made such a quick transaction in my life.

  She’ll never see this either, I think with a sigh. Her and her damn rules. I should have given it to her that night, but I still had to do a free romantic gesture before I could buy her anything else. Of course, I’d take anything to have the chance for one romantic gesture right now, free or not. I sigh again and toss the necklace on top of the fleece.

  I’m about to wrap one of Mom’s gifts when the phone rings. Someone answers it immediately, so I go back to my chore.

  “Brad! Can you come down here, please?” Dad yells not even a minute later.

  I lower the scissors and rush downstairs, wondering what’s going on. He’s in the library with Mom and they’re both grinning from the loveseat.

  “What’s up?” I ask.

  “They found some of our stolen items.”

  “Really? Where?”

  “That Atlanta lead panned out. Chase was staying with his cousin, and they had a number of our things in his garage.”

  “The Monet?”

  “No,” Dad replies, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, not.”

  I sit in a chair opposite them. “So, what happens now?”

  “Chase has been brought back here and charged with felony larceny. He’s being held until the bail hearing.”

  “What about our stuff?”

  “It’s being held as evidence. We won’t see any of it for a long time still.”

  I’m disappointed about the Monet, but at least we’ll get some of the items back eventually. I glance at Mom and she looks better. Not totally relieved, but better. This has been killing her the last few days.

  The part that’s really killing me is Hailey. “Did they say if Hailey helped him?” I ask.

  “I don’t think they got into those types of questions.”

  “We need to know. She might be totally innocent and you kicked her out.”

  Dad shakes his head. “He left a note thanking her, Brad. Plus, he had a key and the security code. How else could he have possibly gotten those? I know you like Hailey, but we have to look at the evidence.” He holds his hands up like there’s nothing else we can do.

  “What if it wasn’t her fault? What if he threatened her or us? Maybe she had no other choice?”

  “Then it’s still better she’s not here. She needs to be someplace with better protection to keep her safe. Her current placement has that.”

  “But you’re always going to think she’s guilty when she might not be.”

  “She would still be guilty, just under extenuating circumstances.”

  He’s right, I know, but I don’t like it. The extenuating circumstances could be horrible, in which case we shouldn’t blame her. “I have to know.”

  “How do you intend to find out?”

  There’s only one way I can think of. “Talk to Chase.”

  “Is that really a good idea?”

  It’s my only idea, so I’ll have to go with it. “Yeah,” I say with conviction.

  “Okay, then. Good luck.” They both shake their heads, but don’t stop me from leaving.

  Right before the door slams, I hear “Don’t be late for the party!” It’s Mom’s annual Christmas Eve party. She thought about canceling, but ultimately decided it would help us return to normalcy if we were around friends tonight.

  Thirty minutes later, I’m waiting in the prison parking lot as my car is searched by two burly men and a German Shephard. They give me the all clear and then I enter inside, where I’m patted down and handed a Visitor’s Application. I had no idea it would be this difficult to talk to him.

  I turn in the paperwork, my keys, my phone, and my wallet, then wait. Apparently, they need to see if Chase is willing to talk to me. If he says no, I’m not sure what I’ll do. I guess I’ll have to give up.

  “Bradley Campbell?” a guard asks.

  “Yes,” I reply, standing.

  “Right this way.”

  That only took a couple minutes. It seems Chase is as anxious to see me as I am to see him.

  The guard leads me through a series of corridors and then I’m brought to one of those rooms with glass panels and telephones just like in the movies. Chase, in an orange jumpsuit, is sitting behind the third one with a smirk on his face.

  We stare at each other for at least a minute, neither of us picking up the phone. He looks worse than I remember. Thinner. Paler. Scruffier. Kind of l
ike he’s been on the run for a few days.

  I finally pick up the handset and wait for him to do the same.

  “Chase,” I say.

  “Rich boy,” he replies.

  “I’ll make this quick. Did you threaten Hailey?”

  “What are you talking ‘bout?”

  “I know she wouldn’t help you unless you threatened her. What did you do?”

  His smirk turns more menacing, revealing crooked teeth and a gold cap I don’t remember from last time I saw him. If he used money from the Monet for that, I’m going to kill him.

  “I ain’t never threatened her. She was never yours,” he says, shaking his head. “She was always mine. She’s happy to do whatever I want.”

  “I know that’s not true.”

  “You don’t know shit,” he says, relaxing back in his chair. “Did you know I saw her all the time? Yeah, I saw her under the bleachers at your school. In the woods behind your house. In that nice weight room of yours.” He sits up straight and leans within inches of the glass, staring straight into my eyes. “On your bed. I really beat her cheeks in that fancy bed of yours. Left you a present, too.”

  “You fucking asshole!” I yell, slamming my hands on the glass.

  A guard sprints over to me and grabs my arms. He holds them tight behind my back and roughly escorts me from the room as I continue yelling obscenities at Chase. I’ve never hated another human being more.

  As soon as I’m back in the waiting room, I want to hit something. I didn’t get anything out of that. Was he being honest? Who knows? Was he coming into our house regularly? Was she letting him in? Would she seriously make out with me while she was with him?

  The thought makes my skin crawl. I can’t even imagine what kind of nastiness he harbors. There is no way she would do that to me.

  I gather my belongings and then step back outside, taking a deep breath. That was completely pointless. Dad was right.

  I turn right, toward my car, when someone opens a door into my leg. I jump out of the way as the culprit apologizes. “I’m so sorry,” she says, climbing out of the front seat.

  The voice stops me in my tracks.

  “Hailey,” I say, turning around to face her.

  “Brad.”

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  “Probably the same thing as you.”

  “Chase.”

  She nods. After waving to Sherry, she shuts the door and stands there fidgeting with the bottom of her shirt.

  “Why didn’t you call?” I ask.

  She shrugs.

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “But you think I helped him.”

  “I—I don’t know.” I run a hand through my hair and sigh. It’s the truth. I have no freaking idea what happened. I had hoped Chase would shed some light on the situation, but he was useless.

  “What did Chase have to say?” she asks quietly. She’s acting like the small, meek Hailey from the first couple days. It kills me to see her like this again.

  “Shit about you,” I answer, stuffing my hands into my pockets.

  She swallows, visibly worried by my words. “It’s probably not true,” she replies, her eyes cast downward.

  “He said you’ve been messing around with him the whole time you were with me.”

  “That’s a lie.” She meets my eyes and the pleading I see there is like an entire cooler full of ice-cold Gatorade being dumped over my head, startling me into complete clarity in a fraction of a second. She needs me to believe her. She needs to know I trust her and she can trust me. If I don’t, we’ll never be the same again.

  “I know,” I say, reaching for her hands and meaning the words completely. Thank God, it wasn’t true. Of course, she wouldn’t do that. I’m not sure how I even let myself consider it for a second.

  I take a deep breath and slowly say, “What did he threaten you with, Hailey? I’ve got to know.”

  “What?” she asks, confused.

  “What did he do that made you help him? I don’t blame you. I just want to understand.”

  “I didn’t help him!” she yells in a voice I’ve never heard from her. She rips her hands from mine and clenches them into fists at her sides. The veins in her neck bulge as she continues shouting. “Why won’t you believe me?! I would never do that! Ever! I’d run away, even sell my body, before I’d ever let him hurt any of you! You’re the only family I’ve got!”

  And just like that, all the trust I built up two seconds ago vanishes in a heartbeat. This is what we’ve done to her. We’ve let her down when she needed us most. Just like everyone else in her life.

  I grab her shoulders and pull her in for a hug.

  “I believe you,” I say, pressing my face against her hair. I don’t know how he got in, but she didn’t help him. That much I know for sure based on the pure, raw emotion I’m seeing right now. “I believe you,” I repeat, holding her tighter. “I believe you.”

  After a couple minutes, her body finally relaxes against me.

  I take a small step back and grab her hands again. I don’t know if she’s in any shape for this, but we need to get to the bottom of what happened. If I have any chance of getting her home, I need to explain to my parents exactly how Chase got inside. “We need to figure out how he got the key, okay?”

  She nods.

  “He doesn’t have mine or Mom’s or Dad’s. Where’s yours?”

  “I—I lost it,” she stammers.

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I have to be careful what I say even though I don’t like the direction this is going. People lose keys all the time, but they don’t generally end up in the hands of fucked up ex-boyfriends. “Okay,” I say quietly. “Where did you lose it?”

  “I’m not sure,” she replies, biting her lip. “It was a few weeks ago, back when it was really cold. I realized it after my lunch with Michelle.”

  “When I went with Mom and Dad to the golf club?”

  “Yes.”

  “How’d you get into the house?”

  “Michelle let me in.”

  “What?” I ask, surprised by her words. “What’d she do?”

  “She let me in with her key.”

  “Michelle doesn’t have a key.”

  “Yes, she does.”

  I shake my head. “No, she doesn’t.”

  “Yes, she does,” Hailey says, nodding. “She let me in that day.”

  What the hell? Adam doesn’t even have a key. There’s no way I’d ever give Michelle one. “What exactly happened?”

  “I couldn’t find my key when we got back home. I thought I had put it in my jacket pocket, but it wasn’t there. So, she got out of her car and let me in. It was freezing cold. I was grateful she was there to help.”

  “Did you ever leave your jacket unattended during lunch?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe … I might have gone to the bathroom at one point.”

  When Michelle could have easily swiped it. I can’t believe this. What is wrong with that girl? Here I am blaming everything on Chase when Michelle might have actually been the bigger problem. “What happened after she let you in?” I ask, fearing the worst.

  “She … oh crap.”

  “What?”

  “She stood in the entry while I entered my code. Oh my god,” she says, cradling her head with her hands, “she’s the one who wrote the note. Michelle framed me.”

  Fucking A.

  “I’m so sorry,” I say abruptly, snatching her body to mine in another bear hug. “I should’ve believed you from the very beginning.”

  “It’s okay,” she mumbles against my chest.

  “No, it’s not.” I tilt up her chin so I can see her face. She won’t meet my eyes and I know it’s most definitely not okay. She’s lying. And that’s the only thing she’s lied about this entire conversation. My parents and I are a horrible foster family. “Can you ever forgive us?”

  She bites her lip for a moment, but ultimately nods. I wish I knew what was going th
rough her mind. If I repeatedly told someone the truth and they didn’t believe me, I’d be furious.

  “God, I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” I say, gripping her face in my palms. She finally looks at me, but all I see are the tears in her eyes. I wipe them away with my thumbs. “Please don’t cry,” I whisper. I hate seeing her cry. Knowing I caused it is like a dagger straight to my heart.

  She shakes her head. “They’re happy tears,” she whispers back. “You know it wasn’t me.”

  “Yes,” I nod. “I always knew you wouldn’t do something like this, but I thought he threatened you or us. I wouldn’t have blamed you for helping him in that case, but I … I should’ve trusted you from the beginning.”

  That’s the bottom line. I should’ve trusted her. I should’ve made my parents trust her. She had never done anything for us not to trust her, yet that’s exactly what we did the first moment something went wrong. We messed up big time and I have to make this right.

  “I gotta go,” I say, lowering my hands and sprinting toward my car. How could Michelle stoop to this level? She is beyond crazy. I’ve got to talk to her and tell my parents. Then, we can straighten this whole thing out and Hailey can return to where she belongs.

  “Wait! Where are you going?” she asks.

  I stop and turn around. “To confront Michelle.”

  “Not yet. We need proof or she’ll just deny it.”

  Running a hand through my hair again, I step back toward Hailey. “How are we going to get proof?”

  “I’ll see if Chase has any.”

  I groan. I don’t want her talking to him. What good could possibly come of that?

  “Just give me a couple minutes with him.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Maybe he can give us details about how they met up so she’ll have no way of denying it when we talk to her.”

  “Okay, fine,” I say, giving in. It’s not like he can hurt her. He’s behind glass. And maybe he will actually provide useful information to her, unlike me. “I’m staying. You can tell Sherry to go. I’ll take you … home afterwards.” Home doesn’t seem like the right word because I can’t take her back to my home. Does she consider her new place home already?