by Abigail Haas
It sounds true, because it is. Fragments of fact, pieces of what happened, stitched together in a new shape. Weber could never understand what led us to that moment, so I don’t even try to explain. It’s already too late. What happened in that house is only blood and ashes now; telling the truth won’t bring Oliver back, heal the wounds on Ethan’s body, or wipe the last eight months from my mind.
All that matters now is assigning the blame.
‘It was Oliver,’ I say again. ‘It’s all Oliver’s fault. He was dangerous, I just didn’t realize until it was too late.’
After the hunting trip, I couldn’t think about anything but him. We didn’t spend a moment alone together, but somehow, that didn’t matter. It was the guilt and anticipation; the delicious adrenalin rush I felt meeting his eyes across the room, even with Ethan’s arm slung around my shoulder.
It was a fever dream¸ and I couldn’t get enough.
I was on edge, wound tight with wanting him. Every time the front doors of the sheriff’s department swung open, I expected to see him there, sauntering in to lounge by my desk and remind me just what I’d done out there in the woods with him.
‘Hey, babe.’
My heart caught in my chest, but it was just Ethan, smiling as he held the door open for someone on their way out of the station. He came over and kissed me on the cheek, his skin chilled and his ears tipped with red from the cold.
‘Hey.’ I pulled away, confused. ‘Did we have plans? I checked my phone, but—’
‘I need an excuse to come visit my beautiful girlfriend?’ Ethan asked. ‘No, we’re stuck waiting on some deliveries, so I figured I’d drop by. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy with work,’ he added, taking my hand. ‘I’ll make it up to you.’
‘No, it’s fine, you haven’t,’ I protested.
‘I have,’ Ethan argued. ‘Olly even said I’d been neglecting you.’
I froze. Oliver?
‘He did?’ I asked carefully.
‘Yup, gave me a whole lecture, said I shouldn’t be taking you for granted,’ Ethan grinned. ‘Except he used a bunch more words and, like, five different metaphors.’
‘Right.’ I forced a smile. ‘Sounds like him.’
My mind raced. Oliver sent him over here, but why? To remind me what I’d betrayed with Ethan and keep me on edge? I’d been pulling away from Ethan all week, guiltily laying the groundwork to break up with him, but now I wondered if Oliver really wanted to be with me, or just liked the thrill of this, the chase. Another game.
And if he did, that meant it was my move.
‘So, you coming for lunch?’ Ethan asked.
‘I can’t,’ I told him, relieved it wasn’t just an excuse. ‘I have to stay on the desk. Weber asked me to edit his statements too and I have all these computer records to update . . . ’
‘But they’ll all still be waiting when you get back.’ Ethan captured my hand again, tugging lightly, a charming smile on his face. ‘C’mon . . . I’ll treat you to shakes at the diner. No one will mind.’
‘I said no.’ I pulled my hand back, feeling a flash of irritation at how oblivious he was. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t just leave. I need this job, remember? I’m not the boss’s son.’
Ethan’s smile dropped. ‘That’s not fair.’
‘I’m just saying, I don’t get to waltz off anytime I like.’
‘And I was just trying to do something nice for you, that’s all.’ Ethan looked confused. ‘You’ve been so distant lately, you’re under so much stress . . . Don’t be mad at me for trying to help.’
I exhaled. ‘Of course, you’re right.’ He always was. ‘It was sweet of you to think of me, but I really can’t leave.’
‘Then how about dinner?’ Ethan suggested hopefully. ‘Come over to the house. Mom says she hasn’t seen you in ages.’
‘I don’t know . . . ’ I hesitated, still not wanting to lead him on any more. It seemed wrong to keep agreeing to dates when Oliver’s name was the only one that whispered in my mind.
‘They’re going into the city, so it’ll just be the two of us,’ Ethan added, suggestive. ‘And Olly too, but he promises to stay out of the way.’
Oliver.
My stomach kicked with the thought of him. ‘Sure,’ I heard myself agreeing. ‘I guess I could come over.’
Ethan grinned. ‘Perfect. I’ll pick you up, it’ll be a break, I promise. You won’t have to lift a finger.’
‘Ethan . . . ’ I protested.
‘I mean it,’ he laughed. ‘I’ll feed you grapes and give you a foot rub. You deserve it. You really are the best, you know.’ He leaned in and dipped a kiss on my lips.
‘See you tonight.’
I spent the rest of the afternoon watching the clock, willing time to pass quicker so I could see Oliver again. All I needed was a sign from him and I would end it with Ethan for good. My guilt faded; betrayal was just a word, flimsy in comparison to the breathless memory of his lips and hands, and – worst of all – the race of power thundering in my bloodstream, my first kill lying beside us on the snow.
I was sick. It was wrong. But I couldn’t stop the memories, even if I tried. Something was awake in me now; Oliver had showed me a glimpse of what it felt like to be invincible, alive, and as much as it terrified me, I craved another taste. I knew that I should push it down and bite my tongue, fold myself neatly back into the box I’d been living in: good girlfriend, dutiful daughter, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to any more. Everything seemed duller now, faded and grimy against the vivid hues of the white snow and Oliver’s bright blue eyes, sharp and watching in the back of my mind.
I didn’t know what would happen next and, God, it thrilled me.
Finally, my shift was over. I set the voicemail on and grabbed the statements for Weber, heading across the floor to his office.
‘Hi.’ I tapped quickly and then pushed the door wider. Weber was on a call, but he gestured for me to wait.
‘No,’ he said, ‘no charges. As far as we’re concerned, the case is closed. Uh-huh . . . ’ He listened a moment longer, then finished up. ‘I know. Thanks, Bob, you say hi to Kathy.’
He hung up and gestured me in. ‘Thanks for doing this. I know it’s not exactly part of your job description.’
‘It’s fine.’ I shrugged. ‘I’m just heading out now.’
‘Have a good night.’
I paused in the doorway. I should be leaving, but I couldn’t ignore what I’d heard on the call. ‘Was that about Crystal?’ I asked.
Weber looked blank.
‘The crash,’ I explained.
‘Oh, yeah, it was. We’re wrapping it up,’ Weber said, checking through paperwork. ‘It’s not fair to keep dragging it out.’
Something hardened in my chest. ‘He just gets away with it?’ My voice rose; I stared at Weber in disbelief. ‘Blake was drunk-driving!’
Weber shook his head. ‘We don’t know that. The breathalizer’s inadmissible and Blake swears he didn’t touch a drop. He’s a good kid.’
I didn’t understand. ‘But didn’t he say so, in the interview?’ I asked. ‘I came in with the messages and I thought I heard him. He said he’d had a couple of beers.’
Weber shook his head. ‘I don’t remember that. We went over the tapes, there’s nothing there. I’m sorry,’ he added, giving me a quiet smile. ‘I know she was a friend of yours.’
‘Right,’ I nodded slowly. ‘Sorry to bother you.’
‘No bother at all,’ Weber reassured me. ‘This has been hard on everyone. Now it’s all over, people will be able to move on.’
‘Maybe.’
Weber smiled. ‘You have a good night now.’
I headed back to my desk to grab my coat and bag, confusion still lingering in my mind. I could have sworn I’d heard Blake talk about drinking, but that day was a jumble; the shock and grief had blurred it all together; the only moment in sharp relief was later, with Oliver. His kiss.
I felt a shiver of anticipation. Not long now.
‘Hey, Chloe, did you get those tickets I needed?’ Blake stopped me on my way out.
I stared at him, a chill settling over me. He was back from suspension, looking just the same as he always had. It had been barely a slap on the wrist, a couple of weeks’ lost wages.
Crystal had lost everything because of him.
‘I’m just on my way out.’ I replied, icy.
‘I know.’ He gave me a pleading look. ‘But I’m on speeding duty tonight, Weber wants me out by the highway.’
‘They’re in the lock-up, third shelf from the back,’ I told him, edging away.
‘Please?’ Blake sighed. ‘I can never find a thing in that place. You’re an angel,’ he wheedled, and I realized he wouldn’t stop until I did what he wanted.
‘Fine.’
I hurried around the corner to the evidence lock-up, pulling out my keys. But the door was unlocked, and when I swung it open, I found Weber pulling out a carton from the bottom shelf.
He startled, straightening up and banging his head against the shelves.
‘Sorry!’ I cried.
‘No, it’s fine, you just surprised me.’ Weber rubbed his head. I quickly found the ticket books and grabbed one for Blake, holding it up.
‘You need to run some kind of induction,’ I told him. ‘They come crying to me every time they need something.’
‘Right. Sure.’ Weber coughed, looking uncomfortable.
‘Anyway, good night. Again.’ I headed back out, tossing the ticket book to Blake as I passed.
‘Wait, I still need—’
‘Too late!’ I called back. I wasn’t going to spend another moment in the station, not with Oliver waiting for me.
Oliver and Ethan.
I arrived at the Reznick house early, there was no reason to linger at my own. Mom was still knitting by the spool, wool trailing across her makeshift craft room as the needles clicked faster, her attention focused on the TV. I fixed her dinner and then drove over, checking my reflection in the rear-view mirror before eagerly hurrying up the front path.
‘You look nice.’ Ethan greeted me with a long kiss. I’d spent a little longer at my dresser picking out an outfit and doing my hair – but it was all for Oliver, not him.
‘Thanks.’ I pulled back, surreptitiously looking around. The house was quiet.
‘C’mon.’ Ethan took my hand. ‘I’ve got chips and pizza and instant streaming. I meant it when I said you’re going to relax.’
I followed him to the den. He had the table laid out with food and soda, everything we needed for a quiet evening in. He began scrolling through the movie options on the TV and I took a bite, forcing myself to go another ten seconds before asking. ‘So where’s Oliver?’
‘He went out.’ Ethan didn’t look up.
My heart fell. ‘Oh?’
‘Yeah, he met some friends to go drinking. Said we could have the place to ourselves.’
Disappointment was a bitter itch in my veins. I’d been looking forward to seeing him all day and now I felt like a foolish kid, getting my hopes up for nothing. ‘I didn’t know he had any friends in town,’ I said lightly, concentrating on the cheese strings twisting from my slice.
‘You know Olly.’ Ethan gave me a look. ‘He can make friends with anyone. Mr Popularity.’
‘Right.’
‘I’m glad you guys are getting on better,’ he added. ‘It means a lot to me that you’re trying.’
The pizza turned to cardboard in my mouth.
‘Oh. It’s fine.’ I choked the mouthful down.
‘No, I know you didn’t get off on the best foot,’ Ethan argued, ‘but the hunting trip helped, right? He said you guys had fun.’
Fun wasn’t the word. Not for something so bright and reckless, but Ethan couldn’t understand that if he tried. ‘Sure,’ I agreed quietly. ‘Oliver’s not so bad, I just needed to get to know him, that’s all.’
‘Well, he’ll be out of our hair soon.’ Ethan stretched, reaching for another slice of pizza.
‘What do you mean?’ I felt a tremble of panic. ‘Is he going back to college?’
Ethan shook his head. ‘Some buddy of his says he can fix him with a job out in New York. Some start-up, technology or something. He’s the geek, and he needs someone to schmooze investors and be the face of it. Right up Oliver’s alley, don’t you think?’
I nodded, but my heart was pounding with dread.
He was leaving. Oliver, just like the rest of them. All of this with me was just a momentary distraction for him, a way to kill time amusing himself before he left.
The realization of what I’d been about to do crashed through me. I would have ended things with Ethan for him; torn apart the one good thing in my life for nothing.
I would have been all alone.
Relief came, sharp and swift. I would have destroyed everything, but Ethan didn’t know. He didn’t know anything.
I leaned across and kissed him, taking him by surprise. ‘Thank you,’ I whispered, my heart still pounding in my ears. ‘For doing this tonight, for everything. You’re the best.’
Ethan flushed, smiling. ‘What did I do to deserve you?’
It was the kind of thing he said all the time, but now it made me cringe, knowing how close I’d come to ruining everything. ‘Don’t.’ I shook my head.
‘I know you don’t like all that sappy stuff,’ he insisted, ‘but you have to know, you’re everything to me.’
I stopped.
‘I mean it,’ Ethan said, still serious. ‘I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Olly probably told you, I never really dated much.’ He looked bashful. ‘But that’s because I was waiting for someone like you. I don’t know what I’d do without you, Chloe, I can’t even imagine it.’
‘Ethan . . . ’ I struggled to find the words, guilt and relief twisting in my stomach. I wanted to stop him, but part of me held back. What was I supposed to say, with him looking at me so adoringly, like he’d do anything for me?
‘I love you.’
My mouth dropped open.
Ethan grinned. ‘You don’t have to say anything, I know you have enough to be dealing with. I just, wanted you to know. You should know you’re loved.’
He pulled something from his pocket, a small box, and for a moment, panic sliced through me.
‘I wanted to give you this.’ He passed it, awkward. ‘It’s a promise ring. To show you how much you mean to me.’
I exhaled in a shaky breath, slowly opening the box. The slim silver ring had a heart etched on the inside of the band. It was sweet, the kind of thing you found in a mall store, with a stuffed teddy-bear and a display of red roses.
Pedestrian. Cliché.
I blocked out Oliver’s whisper in the back of my mind and forced a bright smile. ‘I love it,’ I said loudly, sliding it on to the middle finger of my right hand. ‘Thank you.’
Ethan moved closer to wrap his arms around me. I tucked against his body, fitting just right. He held me there and something welled up inside, an ache of longing. I’d felt so alone, not just since Dad had left, but for years now; it felt like loneliness was my default setting. I’d never fitted in quite right with the girls at school, not even Alisha. Despite the time we spent together, ours was an alliance of convenience. No matter how many afternoon study sessions or lunches we shared, there was a part of me I knew she would never understand. I’d always felt drifting, untethered on the edges of the crowd. They didn’t know me, I wondered sometimes if I would always be alone.
I’d never belonged to anyone, had something all my own.
‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered, hugging him tight, as if I could erase the last few weeks of madness, all the shame of my betrayal.
‘What for?’ Ethan stroked my hair.
‘Just, I don’t deserve you.’
‘Bullshit,’ he said tenderly. ‘You’re the sweetest girl in the world.’
I wasn’t. I was all wrong inside, but for a moment, I just wanted to be that girl
he saw, the good one, the best.
The one who was happy here, with her boyfriend, and nothing more.
‘Can we just sit here for a while?’ I asked quietly. ‘No movie or anything.’
‘Whatever you want,’ Ethan murmured. I shifted, so I was sitting with my back against him, in the V space between his legs. I let my head fall back against his chest and watched the fire dance in the grate. We stayed like that for hours, quiet and holding, as if nothing was wrong.
I told myself I was done with Oliver now. I had to be.
For all my promises to myself, I didn’t sleep. Ethan lay, unconscious beside me, his arm flung heavy across my stomach. I’d given up on moving him, he always wound up splayed back across the middle of the bed, reaching for me in his sleep, as if I was his comforter, to tuck against his side.
I stared at the dark ceiling, silently counting the minutes pass. The sweetness of the evening had drifted away and now I felt restless in my own skin again, my body still humming. Unfulfilled. For all his eager touching, the methodical effort of his hands and mouth and body, Ethan could never pull me over the edge. He tried, so sweet and tender, but that was almost worse. It was my failure, my fault that I stayed in my own mind, absent and detached, part of me waiting for him to be finished, willing him to just be done.
At last, I heard the distant sound of the front door closing shut.
Oliver was home.
I lay there another moment, holding on tight to Ethan. I should stay there with him, fall asleep in his arms. I shouldn’t feel the pull downstairs, like a dark kind of gravity, calling me out.
I should, I should, I should.
But temptation won, of course it did. I gently lifted Ethan’s arm and slid out from underneath. I was wearing an old T-shirt of his, naked beneath the XL football emblem, and I tugged it down over my bare thighs as I tiptoed to the door and waited there, holding my breath, listening to the steady rise and fall of Ethan’s chest.