“No.”
His denial infuriated me even more. “I have proof—solid proof. These look familiar to you?” I sorted through the letters haphazardly, not caring that an envelope fell on the spattered porch. “The dates on your letters match up, I did the math. She was pregnant with me whether you want to admit that to yourself or not!”
“That’s just not possible,” he said as he picked up the envelope and stared at it.
My whole body was shivering. “How? Tell me how it’s not possible.”
“After the accident…after I got shot…the doctor said I wouldn’t be able to have ch—”
“Maybe after, but I was conceived before you got shot.”
His eyes drifted past me, out into the rain. He shook his head, still not believing it.
My chest ached like he’d shoved a stake into it, and my blood pulsed through my veins like fire. “Tell me then, does Jade River mean anything to you? Anything at all?”
His head snapped up, and he looked straight into my eyes.
“That’s my name, you know, River Jade.” I finally had his attention. “And if that’s still not enough proof for you, go look in the damn mirror!”
I slung the papers toward him, and the letters holding the answers to my life swirled to the porch floor like scattered feathers. Like pieces of my tattered heart.
24
GOOD-BYE
It was time to say good-bye to my old life and begin my new one behind bars. I’d exhausted all the people I cared about, and it was only a matter of time before my own father found me and turned me in. No more lies, no more deception, no more running. I would say good-bye to Justice and my friends—I owed them that much—then drive to the police station.
Exhaustion consumed me by the time I pulled into Justice’s driveway. When he came running out of his house, I threw the car in park. Rain glistened in the headlights like glitter as I sloshed toward the barn to meet him.
Grabbing my shoulders, Justice shouted over the drumbeat of rain hitting the barn’s tin roof. “Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick about you. I’ve been out looking for you for hours. I thought you’d had a wreck—” He caught sight of the bloody towel around my hand, grabbed my wrist, and held it in the line of the light. “What happened?”
“I…I went to see my father.”
His jaw tightened. “What did Jack do to you?”
“Not Jack, my real father,” I tried to catch my breath. “I never had a chance to finish telling you the whole story. I figured out who my real father is, and I needed his help—”
“His help?”
“He’s the chief of police in Taylor.” I could see the confusion in Justice’s eyes, so I attempted to explain. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to get you involved—the less you knew, the better. I came back to Texas because I found out about a possible witness—a girl that Logan assaulted last year. I tracked her down, but she wouldn’t agree to testify. Since my real dad is a cop, I thought he could make her tell the truth.”
He raised his eyebrows, waiting for me to finish.
I swiped at the cool rain pouring down my face. “It didn’t turn out how I planned it. He denied he was my father, said my mother left him, and threatened to arrest me. I was so angry with him that I went back to the trailer to search for proof. I got carried away and knocked some picture frames off the wall. That’s when I,” I held up my injured hand, “found my proof. I found all these old letters he’d sent to my mom years ago—that she’d never even opened.”
Justice rammed both hands through his wet hair. “Do you have any idea how risky it was to go back to your house? Do you want to go to jail?”
“He needed to know the truth and take responsibility for leaving my mom pregnant. I got what I wanted—I wanted to know the truth. So I went back to his house and threw the letters at him.”
He growled in frustration. “Do you realize how difficult you’re making it for everyone to help you?”
“That’s just it,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t need anyone to help me anymore.”
“Apparently, you do!”
“No, I’ve made a decision. I’m turning myself in. Tonight.”
The anguished look on his face made my heart ache. “No, not yet. Please give us…give things a little more time.”
“More time for what, Justice? For everyone to get in this mess a little deeper? I have no choice. I can’t risk what this could do to you, any of you. Your futures are on the line.” Warm tears streamed down my face, blending in with the rain. “This is my mess.”
“You’re not the only one involved in this anymore. We’re in this with you. You can’t take everybody this far and then change all the rules.”
“It’s for the best.”
“You do not get to decide what’s best for me, River Daniels. You do not always get your way.” He stepped closer to me, his eyes begging. “We can fight this thing, we’ll find a way…together. The phrase is ‘innocent until proven guilty’.”
“That only applies if you have something going for you. All the odds are stacked against me. Whatever happens, it’s not going to turn out good; the girl won’t testify and the chief won’t help me. I have no witnesses, no defense, no money—I have nothing.”
Justice folded me into his arms, his wet body clinging to mine like a shield against the rain. With my face pressed tight against his heart, I could no longer deny my feelings. He was the only thing that mattered. He meant everything to me, and that’s how I knew I was making the right decision.
Leaning back to look down at me, he cradled my face in his hands and tilted my head up to look into his eyes. He gently wiped my rainy tears with his thumbs and spoke just loud enough for me to hear him. “You have me, Darlin’.”
My heart swelled and melted at the same time, and before I could stop myself, I curled my hand at the back of his neck, pulling his face down to meet mine.
“River,” he started, so close I could taste his breath, “I—”
Before he could finish his sentence, I touched my lips to his. Hot shivers ran up and down my spine like electricity, bringing every nerve ending to life. “River,” he whispered, his lips moving against mine as he gripped my face tighter.
My fingers slipped against the shoulders of his wet black t-shirt when I sensed him pulling away. I wanted and needed this kiss, this connection between us, more than I needed to breathe. If this was good-bye, it needed to count.
“River,” he gasped as he took a half-step back.
My knees went weak as a flood of white lights rushed over me. Several seconds passed before I realized they were a set of headlights barreling up the driveway toward us. A police car.
And the fleeting moment of joy and electricity and hope I’d felt seconds earlier drained away, leaving me empty…again.
Justice’s forehead creased and his lips mashed together as he stared in disbelief, first at the car, and then at me.
“I’m sorry,” I mouthed the words. I didn’t have any more decisions to make—it was done for me.
I clung to Justice as Carl stepped out of his cruiser and started toward us. He could have at least sent someone else to take me away.
“Why, River?” Justice pressed my face to his chest and spoke into my hair. “Why couldn’t you let me help you?”
“You have helped me, more than you could ever know.” I looked up into a set of glassy eyes that held all the pain I had caused. I had no doubts I was doing the right thing.
Leaning his forehead against mine, he took a deep breath. As the chief stepped closer, Justice and I embraced one last time and our eyes met, connecting on every level without speaking a word.
When the chief reached us, I slowly pushed away from Justice and turned to him. “I’m ready.” I lifted my limp wrists and waited for the handcuffs.
“I’m not here to arrest you.” Had I lost enough blood to make me hallucinate? “I’m here to help you.” The sharp edges around his face had sof
tened, telling me he no longer had doubts about my DNA. “Can we talk?”
Unable to speak, I nodded once.
“We can talk inside,” Justice offered.
Glad he had his arm on my waist to keep me anchored, I let him guide me up the porch steps and into the cozy kitchen. Justice motioned for the chief to have a seat at the table, pulled a chair out for me, and started out of the room.
“Don’t leave me.” I extended my arm.
Justice gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m not leaving you, I’m just going to get you a blanket and something to clean that hand with.”
When he returned, he set down a stack of medical supplies on the table and draped a blanket around my shoulders. He took a seat beside me and gently began to unwrap the bloody hand towel. “You could really use a few stitches.”
I rolled my eyes at him. He knew going to the hospital wasn’t an option.
He picked up a pair of tweezers. “Okay, be still. This is gonna hurt.”
The chief moved to stand. “Son, maybe I should do that.”
“No.” Justice looked him straight in the eyes. “I can take care of her.”
The chief seemed to respect that and settled back in his seat. Justice carefully removed two tiny glass shards from my hand, and then cleaned the cut. It was deeper than I’d expected, and I made my lip bleed trying to hold back profanities.
Once the worst part was over, the chief cleared his throat. “River, I’m sorry. I know you’re right about me being your father, but it’s all such a shock. I’ve lived my adult life believing I couldn’t have children, and now—”
I sighed. “And now you’re stuck with the boyfriend-killing, fugitive daughter you’ve always dreamed of.”
The chief didn’t respond, but Justice glared at me while he finished applying surgical tape over the bandage.
I appreciated that Real Dad had swooped in to help me, but could I really trust a man who left me once? I put my free hand to my throbbing head. “I’m in shock, too.”
The chief scooted his chair closer to the table. “We can straighten out the family matters later, but right now we have to focus on the case. I need you to tell me about this witness you have.”
I told the chief everything I knew and all about my trip to see Rachel Banard. After I finished, he pushed away from the table and said, “Listen, I promise I’ll figure something out and get back to you. You need to stay put, though.”
Justice’s eyes stayed pinned to me until I nodded in agreement.
Looking away, then back at me, the chief said, “There’s one letter you missed. I found it in the bottom of the manila envelope that you, uh, left at my house.” He pulled it from the inside pocket of his rain jacket. “It was a letter your mother wrote to me,” his voice broke, and he cleared his throat, “but never sent.”
At this point, I didn’t see how it could possibly make any difference, but I reached out to accept it. My heart clenched as I stared at the envelope with the name Carl written on the front in Mom’s neat handwriting.
The chief pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head as if trying to fight back emotions. “I should get going. You need some rest.” The chair creaked when he stood to leave. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Justice glanced down at my hand still nestled in his and hesitated before he let it go and got up to walk the chief out.
After they stepped out on the front porch, I opened the letter and read:
Dearest Carl,
I am so sorry. I received your letters, but I can’t bring myself to open them. Your life is going exactly how you planned it, and I could never live with myself if I ruined it for you. I have complete faith that you will accomplish your dream of completing a law degree. I know how important it is for you to be the first in your family to finish college and make something of yourself. You’ve worked so hard to get where you are. That’s why I will never open your letters. I’m afraid I would not be strong enough to follow through with my plan.
You see, I am pregnant. It’s yours, of course. I would love nothing more than to raise this baby with you and for us to be a family, but I cannot risk you giving up your dreams. When I first found out, I went straight to your house to tell you. Your dad was outside with your younger siblings. I found your mom inside sitting at the kitchen with a huge stack of bills in front of her. She wasn’t crying over the bills, she was crying over the letter you’d received from the University of Texas: a full football and academic scholarship.
She told me how proud and grateful she was that you ’d been given such an amazing opportunity. She told me how she and your father were married right out of high school when you came along and how relieved she was that you were going to have a chance to get out of poverty. A chance they didn’t have after your father’s spinal cord injury and medical bills started piling up.
That’s when I knew what I had to do. You worked way too hard for your scholarship, and I would never want you to risk losing it in order to support your child and me. It would be impossible for you to honor your commitment to your team, keep up your grades, and support a family—especially with me still being a senior and having no job skills. Most young couples don’t usually make it past high school anyway, so it’s better to end it now before you lose everything.
I have left town and am living with my aunt in Oklahoma. I’m with someone else now, and I’m getting married this weekend. He knows I’m pregnant but says it doesn’t matter because he loves me and has for a long time. He’s someone I’ve known for years and even dated the summer before I met you. He just finished two years in the military and now has a good factory job and his own place. I’ll be able to finish high school and give the baby a name—his name.
I am only telling you this because I know I will never be mailing this letter. I asked my parents to tell you to stop calling, tell you that I’ve moved on. I am so sorry for any pain I have caused you, but it has to be this way. I love you more than you could ever know, and that’s why I’m doing this. I hope life treats you well.
I will always love you,
Eve
Hurt and anger fizzed up in my chest, and I clutched the letter to my heart. The chief had been telling the truth: my mother left him. She made the choice that would change four lives forever. She sacrificed her love for him so he could follow his dreams, so he could succeed, and so we wouldn’t drag him down. Flopping my arms onto the kitchen table, I laid my head down and sobbed.
My mother’s love for my father was so strong that she’d set him free.
25
SLEEPOVER
Light peeking in through the window was my first clue that I wasn’t in a bunk bed. Not only had I slept past sunrise, but the bed was too big, too comfortable, and it smelled really good—like Irish Spring and leather and—
“Mornin’, sunshine,” Justice sang out as he appeared in the doorway.
My eyes widened as I sat up.
“You fell asleep sitting at the kitchen table last night.”
Glancing at the rumpled sheets beside me, my heart rate kicked up several notches. Surely…
He winked. “I slept on the couch.”
I vaguely remembered Justice’s strong arms holding me close as he carried me to his bed—him saying something about a couch and insisting I change into a dry shirt. My heart rate took off, and my fingers flew to my lips as I remembered what happened before that. Out in the rain, we kissed.
“I let the girls know you were okay last night and told them today’s plan.”
My cheeks heated and my heart sank back to the depths of reality. Back to business. “Plan?”
“Yeah, the chief is gonna take you back to Holten to talk to that girl.”
Rubbing my face to wake up, I realized it felt slightly swollen. Great, my eyes were all puffy and probably still red from my crying binge last night. And my hair…I must look like ten kinds of hell.
Justice gave me a crooked grin and turned to leave. “Billi Jo sent a bag of clothes an
d stuff for you. I put it in the bathroom since I figured you’d probably want a hot shower.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled from behind my finger mask.
I stepped out of a long shower smelling like a bouquet of honeysuckle and feeling like I had just won the lottery—except that my hand had started bleeding again. After wrapping a thick layer of toilet paper around it, I opened the bag Billi Jo sent me. Typical, she forgot to include a shirt and sent her own jeans (which were a few inches too long). Crap. I’d have to borrow a t-shirt from Justice for now, and then throw last night’s soggy jeans in the washer and dryer before I left for Holten.
I spotted a thin, long-sleeved flannel shirt of Justice’s hanging on the back of the door, so I slipped it on over my bra and panties. It would do for an hour, and since the shirt was practically mini-skirt length, I decided it would be okay to wear in front of Justice. As I started out of the bathroom, he came down the hall toward his bedroom.
“Wow,” his eyebrows shot up, and he kind of gasped, “that old shirt sure looks a hell of a lot better on you than it does on me.” As soon as the last word came out of his mouth, his face brightened to match his cherry-colored lips.
“Uh, thanks…I guess,” I stammered, trying to remember the English language. He had never really said anything like that to me before, and I didn’t know what to make of it. “Billi Jo…um…didn’t send me a shirt, and she only sent her jeans, which are way too long.” I tugged at the bottom of the thigh-length shirt, suddenly feeling naked.
Justice began to study something on the wall. “Yeah, Billi Jo mentioned something about you guys running out of clean clothes. You can use the washer anytime.”
“Okay, thanks. Actually…would you mind if I put my clothes in right now? Otherwise I’m gonna have to make five-inch cuffs—not cool.”
“Sure.” He gestured toward the laundry closet. “Help yourself. You know your way around.”
As we danced awkwardly past each other, I tried to ignore the sudden spike in my body temperature when his arm brushed against mine. Something between us had shifted last night as we stood in the rain about to say good-bye. We kissed, but did it change his feelings or only make things between us more strained?
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