Fuck it all.
She had to grit her teeth and get through it.
Under the table, she closed her hands into fists to keep from scratching at her arms as she continued to answer Jensen’s questions. Layla kept a confused, dazed look on her face even as she plotted out how to make this all better. She had to play it smart. Jensen was a goody two-shoes and she liked being the smart cop, but she was smart and if Layla laid it on too thick then the bitch would figure it out.
Damn Willie T. Damn his ass to hell and back. For being dead. For being a fucking pervert. For being a monster.
And Layla had let him stick his dick in her. She needed to scrub herself clean. She could never be clean, but she could be cleaner than she was now. But she had to stay here … answer these questions—
“And you don’t remember hearing anything?” Jensen asked.
Layla stared at her, scrunched up her face. “I was just pissed off, Jensen. I wanted to see Willie T.” Then Layla sighed and looked down, pretending to think.
As she did, the events of the past day rolled through her mind and then they stuttered, caught, as one face in particular settled in her mind.
Yeah, she was pissed at Willie T. He had some nerve, up and dying like that. Raping kids like he had.
But she never would have gone out there, never would have gotten involved, if it weren’t for Noah.
It was his fault she was trapped here, caught up in this mess.
She’d had a fucked-up day ever since she’d run into him, and he was the one who needed to pay.
That was her thinking and she figured it made sense.
He’d given her a day from hell and she was thinking she’d do the same for him.
“Come on, Layla,” Jensen nudged, prodding her and nudging her mind back on-track.
Gotta focus. Need to get out of here … what were we talking about … oh, the noises. Yeah.
“I don’t know. I might have heard something. Yeah, I was smoking when I walked in,” she said, sighing. She managed to paste a shamed expression on her face, dragged her eyes away like she couldn’t stand to meet Jensen’s eyes. “You’ve never done it, I know. You don’t know how it is, but maybe after my head clears … once I’m not so scared? I think maybe I heard a noise. But I don’t know.”
She shot Jensen a look, evaluated the expression on the cop’s face. Layla could usually read cops pretty well. But Jensen was harder to read. Hard to say.
Take it easy, Layla thought to herself. Take it slow.
If she did right, she might be able to find a way to get some payback.
“I think … maybe I did see somebody.”
* * *
As one of the officers escorted Layla out of the station, Jensen leaned back in her seat and met Thorpe’s eyes.
He looked at her, and although his eyes were clear, his suit looked a little rumpled. It made sense. It was going on one in the morning and they’d been at it since seven. They hadn’t expected to wrap up their day with another murder. They were going to have to call in the state to help with this at this point. Hell, Willie T.’s death wasn’t even in their jurisdiction, but it was definitely connected—the county boys had been nice enough to let them speak with Layla and Layla just hadn’t connected the dots between city cops and county sheriffs.
“You ever get the feeling you’re being played? Just like a fiddle?” Jensen asked.
Thorpe nodded solemnly. “All the time. I got three nieces and a nephew and they’ve turned me into their own string section.”
Jensen grinned at him and then looked back at the hallway, watching as Layla flirted with Officer Heaton. She should watch it. Heaton’s wife, Roni, would rip Layla’s hair out.
Once Layla was out of sight, Jensen turned and looked at Thorpe. “Well, between you and me, I have to say, Layla can outplay your nieces and nephew. We were just played, well and truly. That was some damn fine playing.”
“Not so fine.” Thorpe shook his head. “There ain’t no way it happened like she said.”
Jensen closed her eyes. “No. But we have to bring him in.” Her heart hurt, even thinking about it.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The house was dark and quiet. Lana pressed her back against the door and closed her eyes, wished like crazy that somebody was inside the house with her. Wished she wasn’t alone so she didn’t have to deal with the noise in her head. Too much noise, too many thoughts.
If she had somebody with her, she wouldn’t have to think.
Somebody … no. Not somebody.
Adam.
She wanted Adam.
She wanted to feel his arms around her and maybe lean against him. Feel him touch her the way he’d been touching her before Noah had walked in.
Squeezing her eyes closed, she breathed around the knot that just refused to go away. She’d gone to see Max, determined to get answers, because answers would make that rawness inside better. That was what she thought. But nothing was going to make that raw, bruised feeling go away.
And now it was even worse.
Now the confusion was spreading and she had more questions.
Max …
I never wanted you gone.
She shoved a fist against her temple, wishing she could drown out that voice, wished she could wipe away the memory of the past few hours. Even just turn back the clock to when she’d been standing here facing Noah. It had been a brutal, solid punch, but at least then she’d thought she understood things.
Instead of looking for clues where to find David—because the judge had been so forthcoming about that—she should have gone to Noah.
Explained things, told him she might have to disappear again … or, you know, maybe end up in jail … please understand.
Noah would have held her hand and offered to help her find a lawyer.
Fuck. Actually, her dad would have done that. Noah would have just been a quiet, supporting presence at her back. She hadn’t wanted to hurt or disappoint either of those men.
She’d done both.
The floorboards creaked and she shoved away from the door, tensing automatically. As she turned to face the doorway, she let her backpack fall to the floor and then she caught sight of who it was. The tension drained out of her in a rush as she saw Adam, shrouded in half shadows. “I thought you had to work,” she said, her voice a soft whisper in the quiet stillness of the house.
He closed the distance between them and reached up, pushing his fingers into her hair. “I thought you might need a friend.”
“A friend.” She closed her eyes and turned her face into his palm. His thumb stroked over her lip while he pushed his fingers into her hair. “Is that what we are, Adam? Even now?”
He moved a little closer and the heat of his body reached out to tease hers. She could whimpered, it felt so good. “Do you not want to be friends?”
She dropped her head against his chest. “I no longer know what I want. I don’t even know what to think.” Her mind was still spinning with what Max had told her.
I trusted the wrong person.
“Things will be okay with Noah.” Adam curved his arm around her waist and brought her in close before skimming his hand up her back, resting it on the nape of her neck. “He’s confused and upset, but he’s a good guy, solid. He’ll understand once you’re able to talk to him.”
“I already did.”
Adam’s body tensed for a brief second. Oh, so subtly, but then it was gone. “Yeah?” He leaned back and peered down into her face, cocking an eyebrow. “What happened?”
“I was down at the river. In the woods. That was always…”
“You always went there.” Adam brushed his thumb over her lips again. “I guess Noah still remembers that.”
“Yeah.” She reached up and touched her fingers to Adam’s lips. “Kind of funny. You do, too.”
He kissed her fingers and closed his hand around her wrist, his eyes dark and intense on her face. “I remember all kinds of things about you, Lana.”
>
Her heart banged hard against her ribs. That look. The way he watched her. She swallowed, closing her eyes as she tucked her head back against his chest, the cadence of his heart oddly soothing. The scent of him flooded her head and some of the coldness inside her eased back. She felt surrounded by him. Warmed by him. For the first time in forever, she didn’t feel alone.
She’d had friends over the years, but Adam had been one of the very, very few who had always gotten her. And nobody made her feel safe the way he did.
“What did you and Noah talk about?” he murmured, shattering that moment of internal reverie.
“Not much.” She rubbed her cheek absently against the faded cotton of the Harley T-shirt he wore, opening her eyes to stare off into nothing. “He just … I think if I tell him anything, he’ll understand.”
“He probably will. Noah’s good at that.” Adam pressed his lips to her temple and that soft brush had her pulse rate skittering in dangerous territory. She tried to ignore it. “You probably need to talk about it, darlin’.”
She squeezed her eyes closed. “I can’t tell anybody anything, because I don’t know anything.” Anger twisted in her, exploding through her like a volcanic eruption. She shoved away from him to pace the floor, the edgy tension inside her spiraling higher and higher. I trusted the wrong person. “I know even less now than I knew before, too.”
“Just what does that mean?”
She stopped and stared at him, and for some reason the glasses she wore—glasses she didn’t need—pissed her off. Tearing them off, she turned and hurled them down on the table. “He tells me he trusted a friend,” she snarled. “The wrong friend.”
* * *
Adam had suspected there was a lot of anger inside her.
He just hadn’t realized it was this close to the surface, ready to ignite.
Now, though …
As Lana started to pace, her face pale, tight with strain, he stayed against the island, forcing himself to relax, not to move any closer. It was hard. Hard not to reach out and touch her as she swung by him, her long legs scissoring as she paced back and forth.
He waited, and waited.
Finally, she stopped by the window, staring out over his garden, her hands curled over the edge of the counter. “Have you ever had anybody that you just really trusted? Somebody that you put your everything in and then it turns out that faith was misplaced?”
Adam dragged his thumb down his jaw, carefully thought through that question. It was a loaded one, and he could all but see her need to talk, to tell him everything burning inside her.
If he answered this the wrong way, he might never get the answers.
But worse … he was going to add to the hurt he could see inside her.
“Everybody places their trust wrong from time to time, darlin’,” he finally said. “I’m a paranoid bastard, though. I don’t give my trust to a lot of people and haven’t since I was a kid. I trusted my folks. I trusted you. I trust Noah. To some extent, I trust a few of the guys I’ve met through AA. But that’s probably about it.”
She was silent.
Shoving away from the counter, he moved over to stand behind her. Reaching up, he caught the end of her braid and tugged out the band that held it in place. Slowly, he started to loosen the tight cable. Once he’d done that, he pushed his hands into her hair and started to rub her scalp. “The red is starting to show,” he said softly.
“I know.” Her head fell forward.
Silence fell and for a moment they just stood there as he rubbed at her scalp. He worked his way down to her neck and she groaned as he went at the tight muscles there.
“I trusted him.… I left here because I trusted him, Adam. And the whole time, it was a lie.”
He had to fight not to let the tension he felt echo through him. “Why don’t you tell me now, Lana?” He let his hands fall away and moved in closer, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. Tucking his chin against her shoulder, he murmured against her ear, “Whatever you have to say, it’s between us, nobody else.”
“These aren’t my secrets.”
“Maybe not. But these secrets are destroying you … Haven’t they already taken enough?”
A harsh shudder racked her body.
He closed his eyes and then decided it was time to push harder. Rubbing his cheek against hers, he said quietly, “You’ve danced around the edge of this … but let me take this further, might make it easier.”
She was tense under his hands, so tense, he thought she might shatter. He curved his hands over her shoulders, squeezed lightly. “You already told me that David Sutter was abused.… I know these aren’t your secrets and you don’t feel right talking about it. But Lana, it’s not right that you tried to help somebody and that your entire life gets destroyed, either. It’s a secret that’s ruining your life. It’s a secret that somehow led to the abuse of more kids, I suspect. It’s not your fault, but whoever you trusted could have done something to stop it. None of this is right. It has to end. You know that.”
A shudder racked her body.
* * *
“Just remember … once you get to Indy, you need to find somebody at The Indianapolis Star, okay? That shithead father of yours likes seeing his name in the news too much—even people up there know who he is.”
Lana smiled at David, tried to show him some sort of reassurance. Maybe she should go with him. Dad would ground her for a month if she just up and disappeared for a few days, but she could call him once they were on the road.…
The empty look in David’s eyes scared her. He didn’t care anymore. He just didn’t care. He used to.… He’d cared about stopping it. He’d cared about getting out. But now? He was at the point where nothing mattered. It had gotten worse after he’d tried to go to the police. That had gone over so fucking well.
It was like he was dying inside and he just didn’t care. It scared the hell out of her.
“Maybe I should just disappear,” David said, his voice dull. “It’s not like anybody would miss me.”
She shot out a hand and grabbed his arm. He didn’t like to be touched, but she thought it was better that he realize not everybody wanted to hurt him. Squeezing his arm, she waited until he looked at her, his eyes just a lifeless void. Softly she said, “I would.” Then, slowly, she let go of his arm and pushed the bag into his hands.
He took it, fumbling with it for a minute. His hands had gotten huge over the summer, his hands, his feet, even his shoulders. He’d become clumsy, tripping over his feet, bumping into things, and it was like his hands were greased with butter, because he never seemed to know how to hold on to anything.
He was still too skinny, like he never had enough to eat, and sometimes he made her think of the feral cats she’d catch and take in to the vet. Desperate, and ready to bite.
“I think I should come with you,” she blurted. “Dad would be mad for a few days, and Noah would be pissed, but it won’t take long. Once we get to Indy and you tell them what you need to tell them, they’ll make sure you’re safe and I can come back. What do you think?”
David looked at her with eyes that were too old, too wise, too sad, for a kid who was only seventeen. Sometimes it was hard to remember they were the same age. He’d started school a year late, thanks to his crazy-ass mother—it’s not good for him, he needs more rest, he was ill as a child, I don’t like the environment, blah, blah, blah.…
That bitch Diane worried about school, and then she let her husband—
Lana cut that line of thought off because if she didn’t, she was going to be too mad to think and she needed to think.
“You can’t come,” he said simply, shaking his head. He went to put the backpack on.
She heaved out a sigh. “Just promise me you are going.”
If he gave his promise, he’d keep it. She knew that much.
“I promise.” He jerked his head in a nod and looked out, eying his car, waiting for him behind the house.
“O
kay, then. Just remember what we’ve talked about. Give all that shit to the Indy Star. Don’t come back here. Don’t call, not even once you’re on the road. Word will get back to your dad and we can’t let him find you—”
Something moved outside.
She knew the sound of this place, knew the feel of it, knew everything about it. There had been a time when she’d even daydreamed about buying the old Frampton house, maybe making it into an inn or something—a haunted one, because of all the stories. But then she’d realized what was going on out here.
But despite that; she still knew this place and she knew that sound outside didn’t belong.
Quiet as it was, it might as well have been a siren.
It came from somewhere out in the yard, not close, but close enough.
Somebody was outside.
She jerked her head around and stared at the boy. He was pale, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he stared toward the door.
“Go,” she whispered.
He didn’t even seem to hear her.
Damn it.
Closing the distance between them, she shoved him toward the hall. “Go, damn it.”
He turned and looked at her, his eyes dark, a void in his expressionless face. He’d shut down so much in the past few weeks. She had to get him out of here before he did something she couldn’t fix. He reached up and touched her cheek. “What are you going to do?”
“The thing I do best … cause trouble. But I can’t do it while you’re here, and if you don’t leave now we’re going to get caught.” She made a fist and punched him gently. “Now … go on already. And don’t look back. Whatever you do.”
She pushed him to the front door. It faced out over the street, but they’d have to take that chance. That noise had come from the backyard. “I’m right behind you, okay?”
* * *
“Diane was there.” Lana swallowed and then slowly lifted her head, met Adam’s eyes. “She … ah, she’d been following David. Watching him. She was obsessed. I don’t know why. I don’t know what the issue was. But she was obsessed with him and the thought of him leaving, even to get away from what his father was doing, was something she couldn’t tolerate.”
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