“Why are you here?” I continued forward.
“I expected you to try something ridiculous like this.”
“Oh, really?”
“Uh huh,” he answered with way too much pep. “Do you really think I’m just gonna let you walk away after what you said last night?”
I shrugged. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” Crap. I knew exactly what he was talking about.
“Okay, I’ll refresh your memory.” He put his hand on his heart. “You said, ‘I love you.’”
I gritted my teeth. “Did you happen to miss the part where I called you a big, stupid jerk?”
“Actually, I couldn’t hear clearly after those three words.”
“Well, I guess you should’ve paid closer attention, then.” I readjusted the heavy bag on my shoulder. “I’m leavin’, Justice. Go away.”
“Not until you get in here and talk to me like a grown-up.” He gestured his head toward the seat next to him. “Then I’ll think about it.”
I continued walking and tried my best to ignore him.
He hung his head out the window and cupped his ear toward the road ahead of us. “Truck’s comin’.”
I heard it in the distance, too, but I didn’t care.
“Sounds like a concrete truck,” he added as he tilted his head. “Probably at the top of the hill right now. Should be here in,” he checked his watch, “oh, maybe twenty seconds or so…”
When I stopped, so did his truck. I glared at him, deciding whether it would be less painful to get run over by a concrete truck or get in with him and face another interrogation. I closed my eyes for a second, growled, and slung my duffle bag into the bed of his truck. Then I climbed in beside Hank and slammed the door just before the huge concrete truck came barreling around the curve.
I ran my fingers through my hair. “What? What do you want?”
His smug look went soft. “I just wanna talk to you.” As if on cue, Hank slid down in the seat, stretched out, and laid his head in my lap.
I placed my hands over Hank’s pleading, dark eyes. “It won’t change anything.”
“As long as you meant what you said, we can work out the rest later.” He glanced over at me as he drove. “Look, I don’t mind waitin’. I’ve had plenty of practice.”
My body ached like I’d run a marathon—one I couldn’t finish. “Don’t you understand? I’m damaged goods—broken, beyond repair. You deserve better, but I can’t give you anything else.”
“Your friendship is enough for now.” His voice sounded almost desperate.
“For now, yes; but eventually you’ll want more, and I won’t be able to give it. You deserve real love with someone who can love you back.” Reaching for my locket, I thought of my parents—my real parents—and turned to face him. “I’m not that someone.”
He gripped the steering wheel tight with both hands. “What you don’t understand, River, is that you deserve real love, too.”
Staring out the windshield, I said, “I killed someone. I might spend the rest of my life behind bars. I don’t deserve anything.”
He was quiet for a minute, then with a firm tone, he said, “I’m not letting you leave me again.”
My throat wanted to close up. Close up and shut down like the rest of me wanted to. I slumped down and rested the back of my head against the seat. “Why? Why won’t you let me leave?” I choked.
“Reason number two is because you risked your life to protect me, and I owe you for that.” He let the truck come almost to a complete stop and turned to face me. “Reason number one is because I’m your friend—one that you happen to love.” Without waiting for my response, he did a U-turn and headed for home. Hank sat up between us, smiling.
I didn’t have a response, so I sat in silence as he drove back to the cabin.
Justice hopped out and came around to my side. “Let’s take your stuff back inside.” He grabbed my duffle bag.
“I can do it myself,” I said, reaching for it.
“I know you can, but I was tryin’ to be nice.”
“Well, if that’s the case, you should’ve let me leave.” I took my bag away from him and sulked toward the cabin. Defeat sucked, no matter what the reason.
He called after me, “I’ll leave the keys in the car in case you change your mind. I won’t keep you here against your will.”
I kept walking but threw my arm up to let him know I heard him.
After he left, I waited a full five minutes before I hauled my stuff back out to the car.
Dammit! He took the keys with him and wrote on the back of the first note:
Seriously, you fell for that?
31
NAILED
The next few days passed with agonizing slowness—I got over being upset with Justice for not letting me run away, and he was back to putting up with me. But none of it really mattered because I’d made my final decision. I was turning myself in. Today.
After handing my copy of the Westfields’ bribe check over to the chief, he broke the news that it would never stand up in a court of law because I obtained it illegally. After several lengthy discussions, reality sank in; there was no other evidence. The chief had searched police reports, looking for anything that might link Logan to other assaults or a history of violence. He offered bribe money to known criminals for information and he even checked in with my sister several times to see if she’d heard any new rumors at school. Each time, he came up empty-handed.
Rachel was the only victim, or at least she was the only one willing to stand up against the Westfields. Pinning my hopes on the fact that her testimony would be enough evidence for the court to either drop charges or earn me a reduced sentence, I convinced the chief it was time to end my running. I wanted to avoid putting Rachel through a long, drawn-out jury trial, and the chief knew as well as I did that, considering the Westfields’ notoriety and resources, it would be next to impossible to get an unbiased jury in the state of Texas.
With my reassurance, he arranged my surrender and a pre-trial hearing where the goal was to negotiate a deal. But he warned me that even with Rachel’s testimony at a pre-trial, I still might serve time. Either way, I wanted to get on with my life—wherever it might be—and let the people I cared about get on with theirs.
Struggling to hold myself together on the walk to Justice’s house to say good-bye, I took one painful step at a time. When I got to his house, I stood there staring at the front door, trying not to think about the possibility of it being the last time. I pushed my hair out of my face, stepped up on the porch and with an unsteady hand, knocked on the door. After a minute or two with no answer, I let myself in. “Hey, I’m here,” I called out when I heard the shower running.
“You’re early,” he answered. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
Great, more time alone to think. An attempt to distract myself by looking at the family pictures that lined the hallway only made things worse. They reminded me of everything I could lose. And within a matter of hours, I would know exactly how much that was going to be.
Justice shouting my name startled me. “Can you get the phone? It might be my parents.”
I was so lost in thought I didn’t even hear it ring. Hesitantly, I stepped into his room, my hand clenching and unclenching as it hovered over the charger. It doesn’t matter who’s on the other end. I’m on my way to turn myself in, so I don’t have to hide anymore. On the fifth ring, I unclenched my fist and picked it up. “Hello?”
“Mrs. Braden?”
The deep voice sent chills through me, even though I couldn’t quite place it. “No…um…she’s not here.”
“Is this River?” he asked pleasantly. Too pleasantly.
My hand went numb, and I almost dropped the phone. It was Richard Westfield.
“I was calling to give your friend a message, but giving it to you is so much better. Listen to me closely, River Daniels…you’re as good as nailed.” His controlled tone was now seething with anger. “If you we
re smart, young lady, you’d plead guilty and take a lighter sentence so this thing doesn’t have to go further than a pre-trial hearing. You’ve put my family through enough. Nobody will buy a self-defense claim, anyway—you have no evidence, no witnesses. You have nothing.” The line went dead.
Even though he knew what kind of violence his son was capable of, he wouldn’t admit it—not to himself and not to the court. He couldn’t even consider the idea that others would view his son as a perpetrator. Not his son—the handsome, smart star quarterback of the mighty Winston Cougars. Not his son—who stood to be the sole heir of the Westfield oil fortune.
It was a real possibility that he was right. If the Banards didn’t show, I had nothing—nothing except the truth. The truth of what Logan did to me. The truth of how it ended. And maybe that would be enough to create some doubt—reasonable doubt.
I fumbled to put the phone back in its cradle when Justice appeared in the doorway. “Sales call?”
Keeping my eyes on the dresser mirror in front of me, I tried to steady my hands by re-tucking my crisp blue button-down shirt into my gray pencil skirt. “Yeah,” I lied. He didn’t need to know it was Richard Westfield making a courtesy call before the hearing. He’d worried enough.
“You look nice,” Justice said.
I looked over to see him standing in the doorway wearing only a white towel and a smile. “So do…” slipped out of my mouth. I couldn’t even finish my sentence before my head went dizzy and my ability to speak evaporated. Turning back to the mirror, I struggled to focus on my shirt button instead of the tan, shirtless torso standing two feet away.
He didn’t seem to notice me holding my breath or the way my body tensed up when he came into the room and stepped around me to pick up his watch off the dresser. So close that his warm breath brushed my neck. “The chief should be here to pick us up in about fifteen minutes.”
That snapped me out of it. “What do you mean us?”
Confusion clouded his face. “I’m going with you…for support.”
“Justice, I don’t want you there. If things don’t go well…” I walked to the window and stared out because I couldn’t face him. “If I have to go to jail…”
“That’s not gonna happen.” He came into my peripheral view. “Please,” he ran his fingers through his wet hair, “let me be there for you.”
“I just want the chief to take me, that’s all.” I strived to sound firm when I angled to face him. “Please, try to understand.”
His eyes searched mine and then he nodded one time. “All right, I will.” He swiped the clothes from the top of his dresser and quietly started out of the room.
My heart twisted. One step forward, two steps back. Why did I always end up hurting him?
When he reached the doorway, he stopped, holding onto the white frame molding for several seconds until his knuckles went white. Then he turned back to me and stalked across the room. Before I could register what was happening, he backed me against the wall and gently grasped my face in his hands. “If you’ll try to understand this,” he said, then pressed his lips to mine.
Shocked and speechless, my repressed emotions exploded at once, igniting a blaze that had sparked long ago. I parted my lips and my tongue met his, urgent and needy. It wasn’t the tender first kiss I’d always imagined, and it wasn’t like the night at his house when my kiss wasn’t returned. This kiss was like nothing I’d ever experienced; it was hungry and desperate and primal. It was hello and good-bye crashing together with hurricane force. It was raw and greedy and frustrated, and it made my insides quiver and my mind go red-hot blind with each ragged breath.
I pulled away for air and my lips curved against his as I spoke. “I think I get it.”
“Good. Because I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.” Justice reclaimed my mouth and his fingers tangled in the back of my hair.
“You have?” A tiny gasp caught in my throat as his lips skimmed my neck and teased my ear. When the inferno grew hotter I dug my fingers into the sinewy muscles of his bare shoulders, holding him, bracing myself in case I fell into oblivion.
“Uh-huh.” His warm breath sent blood pulsing to every part of my body.
Pushing off the wall, I leaned forward into him with enough force that the back of his knees hit the bed and he allowed himself to sit.
“But we don’t have to rush this.” His eyes searched mine as I edged to stand between his legs. “I don’t want to take a chance on anything ruining what we have together.”
A smirk tugged at my lips as I fumbled with the top button of my shirt. “I wasn’t planning on ruining anything.”
“But,” he released a long, steady breath and placed a gentle hand on top of mine, “we can’t go from zero to a hundred the first time we ever make out.” He said ‘can’t,’ but the way he dropped his hands to my waist and gathered me in his arms said something else.
“Why not?” I whispered in his ear, tempting him, hyper-aware that he was only wearing a towel.
“Because,” his head tipped, allowing me further access, “you need time—”
“Time? Time is the one thing I don’t have.” The reality of my own words hit me with unexpected force, and an urgency and boldness I’d never felt before swept over me. My fingers glided down the remaining buttons of my shirt, then I reached to the back of my skirt, unzipped it, and let it slip to the floor.
Justice swallowed hard as his eyes fell to my white lace bra, to my abdomen, to my matching panties, then back to my face. “I don’t think—”
“That’s right: don’t think.” I pushed him back on the bed and straddled him. “For once, let this moment between us not involve thinking.”
“River—”
“Please.” I crawled on top of his body and kissed him hard. “I just want to be with you.” I wasn’t even sure what I meant by that, only that I wanted to be close to him, closer than I’d ever been to anyone. I needed him and the clock was ticking.
He returned my kiss with as much urgency. “How much?”
“More than anything I’ve ever wanted,” my words came out in short, whispered bursts.
His fingertips skimmed the curve of my body from the side of my breast to my waist to my thigh, his touch leaving a trail of fire. “Anything?” he panted.
I nodded because I could no longer speak.
When Justice flipped me over so that he was on top, it was so fast and unexpected that my adrenaline spiked to a whole new level. “Good.” He smiled as he leaned up, his knees bent on either side of my thighs. “Then this feeling, this connection we’ve just shared, will give you something to hold onto. Something to fight for when you don’t feel like fighting anymore.”
My throat knotted. Physically, I wanted him so bad it hurt. Mentally, he was everything I needed. “Justice—”
He bent forward, placing his palms flat on the bed beside my head with his face hovering inches from mine. “Whether that means today or tomorrow or…later.” His eyes were deep pools of light. “I want you to hold on to this moment—hold on to us.”
I reached for him, panic crawling up my throat. “What if it is later, much later? What if it’s nev—”
“Shhhh, Darlin’, don’t cry.” He pulled me up to meet him with my chest against his, then slow and gentle he took my face in his hands and kissed both my cheeks where tears I wasn’t even aware of had trailed. “It doesn’t matter how long it takes. I will wait for you.”
“Chief’s here,” he called down the hallway.
I fastened the last button on my shirt, straightened my locket, and checked myself in the mirror one last time. You have to be strong, I told the girl in the mirror. You have to be strong for Justice.
I slipped on my gray sandals, straightened my shoulders, and walked toward the front door where Justice and the chief stood talking in low voices.
The chief glanced at me, the lines around his eyes etched with worry. “I’ll give you two a minute,” he said and closed the door behind him.
Justice, now fully clothed in jeans and a gray t-shirt, turned to me. “I wish you’d let me go with you.”
Every part of me ached for the same thing, but instead, I smoothed imaginary wrinkles out of my skirt. “It’ll just make it harder if…” I cleared my throat and started over. “If I have to go to jail, I don’t want your last memory to be of them taking me away.”
“Trust me.” One side of his mouth curved when he slid his hands to my hips and pulled me close. “That’s not the memory that’s gonna be stuck in my mind.”
My shoulders relaxed a fraction; it felt good to take some of the edge out of this terrifying moment. Justice was good at distracting me, and I needed to do the same for him.
“Speaking of which,” I grinned, “I guess this means I won the bet. Since you, um…obliterated our boundary agreement and all.”
“Haven’t you heard?” He chuckled. “Every good game has time-outs. That was mine.”
“Oh, so we each get one time-out?” I glanced down at his hands still resting on my hipbones. “Meaning you’ve had a reaaalllly long time out? You think that’s fair?”
“All’s fair in love and war,” he bent to whisper in my ear, sending a wave of tingles down my neck.
“Love and war?” I looked up at him beneath my lashes as I placed my hands around his waist then let them fall lower. “Is that what this is?”
He swallowed hard. “You bet,” he answered, then put his hands in the air and took a step back. “But I’m not callin’ it quits, if that’s what you’re askin’.”
“I’m not interested in quitting, either,” I smiled as I laced my fingers around his neck, “but I am interested in using my time-out for a kiss. Right now.”
“Tempting as that is,” he said as he pried my fingers away from his neck and brought them to my sides, “I want you to save it…for after.”
My heart twisted when I stared up at him and saw my own mixture of emotions swirling in his deep green eyes. As hard as we’d both tried to lighten this potential good-bye, the plain, hard truth of it was that there was nothing light about this moment.
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