by Carina Adams
The preliminary hearing and arraignment had gone by in a flash. My lawyer, who’d shown up only hours after I’d been formally arrested, was pissed that the presiding judge thought the bullshit evidence the state had was enough to go to trial. I thought it was funny. It would take the DA twice as much work to convict me on the circumstantial shit he had.
I’d plead not guilty. I’d been remanded to state custody, considered a flight risk, and given a court date. And now I had to wait.
I didn’t care what happened to me. I would’ve plead guilty, saved the state some tax dollars, and been locked away in a cushy fed pen already if it was just me. It wasn’t.
My friends had been there that night. They hadn’t stopped me and were all accessories. Matty had taken care of Hansen’s girlfriend. And Cris had carried the little boy into the hospital and given her ID.
The more I fought the charges, each day that I stayed silent, the more adamant the LEOs became to prove my guilt. They’d gotten tunnel vision, which was exactly what I wanted. The closer they looked at me, the less they saw the others. I held on to my silence like an ace in the hole. If things started to turn or my friends were in danger, I would start singing and tell the investigators everything they wanted to know.
They’d interviewed anyone they could connect to me, from members of the Bean Nighe, to guys who worked on the same jobsite as my crew. They hadn’t learned a thing from any of those interviews. Somehow, through either dumb luck or a strange miracle, they hadn’t connected me to Cris.
I knew we couldn’t keep Cris out of it completely. She was in too deep; hell, I’d thrown her headfirst into the damn mess by insisting she come that night. Each day that went by without hearing her name on the detective’s lips made me anxious as hell.
Fuck, I missed her. I wanted to hear her voice, see her face. It was just too risky for her to come visit or even send me letters. Instead, I had to rely on the bits and pieces of information that other people passed on. When I went a few days without hearing anything about her, I felt lost. Before all this shit, even when she and I weren’t talking, Matt had kept me informed about what was happening in her life. Now, there was just a hole there.
In jail, you had nothing but time, so I’d spent hours replaying the few days I’d had with my girl and thinking about our past. One night, I’d been lying on the rock-hard mattress, staring up at the bunk above me, and memories from when we were young had bombarded me.
The truth came flying out of nowhere and hit me hard.
Somewhere along the way, in the years I’d had away from her, I’d convinced myself that I’d always hated her. That wasn’t true. Not that long ago, I’d considered her one of my best friends, second only to Matt. I’d promised her brother that I’d take care of her for him, yeah; but I would have done it anyway.
I’d known about her past with Glass, had heard Matt’s version of events that landed him in Longcreek, yet I’d never seen her as a victim. She’d been strong and funny and quirky. For a few months, I had wanted to spend every minute I could with her.
We’d shared secrets, told each other things no one else knew. At the time, it’d never crossed my mind, but looking back now, I saw it for what it was. Crissia Murphy, with her obnoxious laugh, obsession of Marvel comic books, and her ability to put me in my place, was the first girl I’d ever loved.
Yet, she’d been off limits. She was too young—almost two years younger than me. She was my best friend’s baby sister, the person he loved more than anything. And because I was seriously fucked up.
I hadn’t dealt with the trauma from my childhood. I could understand that she was broken, because I was, too. I also knew I couldn’t help her until I’d gotten my own shit straight.
That’s when I’d started to pull away from her.
A few weeks later, I’d met Allison. She’d walked into the garage where I’d landed a summer job and flirted with me. I knew immediately she was out of my league. She was the picture of teenage perfection—beautiful, funny, a straight-A student, with tons of friends.
She’d come back, two or three times, and finally demanded to know when I was going to ask her out. We went for ice cream that night and were inseparable from that point forward. It blew my mind to think that she wanted a loser like me as much as I wanted her.
Uncle Liam had tried to warn me, told me she came from a rough family. He’d encouraged me to go spend time with the Murphys, but I’d stopped returning Cris’s calls and didn’t know how to tell her about my girlfriend. All I’d cared about was Ali and my siblings. I wrote Katie, went to see Megs and Colton every month, but Ali filled the rest of my time. For the first time in my life, I’d felt truly happy.
Cris had never been far from my mind. I’d thought about her more than I should’ve. I’d looked forward to seeing her when her parents dragged her to visit.
But she’d changed. She’d gotten dark. Lost the sparkle I loved.
I should’ve worried about her. I knew she was using, recognized the signs from my own struggle with addiction. I should have taken the time to check in.
Instead, I’d been wrapped up in Ali. I’d seen bruises on her, but she’d always laughed them off. I felt like something was wrong though, even though she’d never said anything, and for months, worry about her took over my life.
We’d been together for almost a year when she’d knocked on my window in the middle of the night, sobbing. I’d figured it was because she’d realized I’d been ready to break it off. We weren’t happy. I’d missed the freedom I’d once had. It was time for us to go our separate ways.
She hadn’t known how I’d felt. Instead, she’d dropped the bomb. She was pregnant - too far along for an abortion, as if that had been an option. We’d only been fifteen, kids ourselves, both with shitty parents who hadn’t taught us what to do.
We’d known we were screwed.
She’d wanted to run away, to move to Boston. I’d hesitated too long when she’d asked. My first thought after she’d broken the news hadn’t been about how Uncle Liam would react, or how I was going to tell Katie, but how Cris was going to feel. Even pregnant, Allison hadn’t been my only priority.
I’d argued that I couldn’t leave my family, not when I’d just gotten them back. It had been so much more than that, though. I couldn’t have just left and never spoken to Cris again.
Uncle Liam had been really supportive. So had the Murphys. Liam insisted that Ali had to move in with us, and he’d promised that after the baby came, we’d have a home with him as long as we wanted. He assured us that he’d help us any way he could. The Murphys were equally amazing, offering monetary help and emotional support. I’d known how lucky we were and that our baby was going to be loved.
Ali had struggled, though. Her family had disowned her and wouldn’t let her go home, even to visit. It was a small town, and a fifteen-year-old pregnant girl wasn’t the kind of friend most parents wanted their daughters to have. Overnight, she’d turned from shining star into shunned girl.
I’d watched helplessly as Ali drifted, lost. I’d clung to the hope that once Hannah was born, she’d get it together, that she’d be okay. I hadn’t known what to do.
The day of the baby shower, I’d been so fucking excited to see Cris. My entire family had come, but the one person I’d wanted to see more than anything was the one who’d avoided me at all costs. Then, when I’d called her out on being high, she’d accused Ali of giving her the weed.
I’d been angry. So fucking pissed off. I’d suspected for weeks that Ali had been using. To have Cris throw it in my face, to act like she wanted to hurt me, was more than I could handle. I’d lashed out, been a dick. And held on to that anger for years.
Lying in my cell, listening to the snores of the other inmates, I wondered what would’ve happened if I hadn’t let Cris go all those years ago. The outcome may have been different if I’d called her and apologized, admitted that I missed her.
Then again, it might not have. Maybe everything happen
ed exactly the way it was supposed to.
After the shower, I’d told Ali about my parents. I’d hoped hearing about the violent and terrible things two addicts had done to their children might scare her straight. I’d explained how terrified I was for our daughter. Allison had cried, sworn she was going to get clean, and promised to give Hannah a better life.
It’d only been a few weeks later when I’d caught her dealer in our house, both of them shooting up. I’d snapped, fucking come unspun. If Liam hadn’t come home and stopped me, I’d have killed the son of a bitch.
And the rest was history.
I’d missed Hannah’s birth. Her first cry, first laugh. I’d only gotten to hold her a handful of times. I’d carry the guilt for the rest of my life.
Yet, Hannah Jean hadn’t missed out. She’d been loved. She’d been adored. She’d had a mom, even though it hadn’t been Ali, who was still mourning her loss.
There were a lot of things I regretted about my life, but as I stared at solid metal bars, I realized that Cris was the biggest one.
As the days passed, each a repeat of the one before, I stayed silent. No matter what they thought they had on me, no matter what kind of deal they tried to talk, I wasn’t giving them anything they could use to hurt the people I cared about.
I wasn’t going to admit to shit. No, I was going to fight the charge with everything I had. So I could go home to the woman I loved and tell her how I felt.
28
Cris
It didn’t matter what time it was, when my cellphone rang, I answered it. I’d even stopped looking at the caller ID, because half the time I didn’t know the number. The guys swapped out burner phones at the rate most changed their underwear. So, when my phone started ringing before I’d had a chance to open my eyes, I reached for it.
“Happy Birthday!” Katie yelled, way too excited.
I smiled but didn’t get up. “Thank you!”
She chatted happily, asking about my plans, telling me once again she wished I’d come north for the 4th. I played along as much as I could and tried to keep the sadness from my voice. Kate was worried enough about her brother; she didn’t need to hear my fears, too.
“So, what are your plans today?” she asked, pretending everything was hunky-dory. I didn’t know if it was because she had called from her landline, or if she just needed to feel normal for a few minutes.
Either way, I played along. “Working,” I admitted pathetically. “Matty said the guys wanted to take me out. I’ve got to work tomorrow, though, so they’re just coming over for supper.”
We talked for a bit longer, then she told me she hoped I had an amazing day and hung up.
I laid on the couch as long as I could, watching out my windows as the city woke up. I’d never get used to how beautiful it was. Sighing, I forced myself to get moving. There was no use lying there, moping about, when I could get to the gym early and get in a workout before I started my shift.
It had been over a month since Rob’s arrest. Forty-two days of pure misery, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was almost over, his trial set to start in two weeks.
I threw on gym clothes, tossed a spare set into my duffle on top of my gear, grabbed a yogurt from the fridge, a cup of coffee, Hannah’s key chain, and headed out. I turned and locked it before I greeted the man in the hall.
“Good morning!” I smiled at Preach as I handed him the hot cup of joe.
He frowned as he took a sip and glanced at his watch. “You’re early.”
I shrugged. “Thought I’d grab a workout.”
He nodded and fell into step beside me, not saying anything else.
I’d stayed at Tiny and Candy’s for almost a week before I insisted my brother and the guys let me move home. The police had already executed their search warrant; they had no reason to go back. And they’d never come to talk to me about the little boy. I knew I’d be safe.
After days of arguing, they’d finally agreed, but only if I let one of the club stand guard. It was complete and utter bullshit, freedom with restraint. I’d conceded because at least it meant I got to be in my own place without someone always hovering.
We’d made it down the elevator—me ignoring the sounds the entire way—and to the front door before Preach reached out a hand to stop me. I turned, adjusted the bag higher on my shoulder, and peered out the window to see if I could find the threat.
“What’s wrong?”
The old man shook his head and pulled a card from his back pocket, a sheepish look on his face. “Happy birthday, Princess.”
I smiled, ignored the wrinkles, and tore the blue envelope open. On the front of the card was a dog in boxing gloves. Inside it said, “Hope your birthday is a knockout!” He’d included a hundred-dollar gift certificate to my gym.
“Preach!” I exclaimed, jumping into his arms and hugging him tight.
“I know it’s not much,” he muttered as his arms tightened around me.
I backed away and playfully slapped his shoulder. “It’s perfect. And amazing!” Pushing onto my tiptoes, I kissed his cheek. “Thank you!”
He blushed in the most adorable way and pushed the door open for me. “Go. Have a great day, Princess.”
“See you tonight.” I beamed at him and then bounded the cement stairs to the sidewalk. I knew that if I turned around, I’d see him trailing a few feet back. So, I pushed the thought from my mind, lifted my duffle higher on my shoulder, and acted like I was just a normal girl on her way to work, and I didn’t look back.
I crossed the road and hurried down the block and a half, smiling when I reached the door. The lights were already on, which meant that Nick, my boss, was somewhere inside, warming up.
I used my key, locking the door behind me, and went to find my boss. Droplogic wasn’t a typical gym with treadmills and free weights. Instead, we taught boxing and kickboxing classes to the general public, and trained a few lucky Muay Thai, Jiu Jitsu, and MMA competitors.
I wasn’t sure how I’d managed to get the job, but I was so grateful I had. I’d started in early June, just manning the front desk and filing paperwork; until I’d taken a kickboxing class and fallen in love.
Now, I was there every free moment, learning everything I could. When I’d told Nick that I was going to be a trainer one day, he hadn’t laughed. Instead, he’d handed me a towel and told me to go work on my core.
I found Nick in the back warming up. For someone who didn’t know, the screaming music combined with his constant bouncing and accelerated knee kicks made him look like he was doing some crazy interpretative dance. I knew how exhausting this warm-up was to do, though, and was impressed that he never slowed.
Dropping my bag, I kicked off my shoes and hurried in to join him. Seeing me, he grabbed the remote to the stereo and turned the music off.
“Happy birthday!” His dark brown eyes sparkled as he gasped for air. “I didn’t think you’d come in today.”
“I’m on at nine,” I explained. “Can I join in?”
He nodded, twisting the top off his Nalgene bottle. “Yeah. I’m just starting the planks.”
“Oh, goody!” I sassed. “My favorite.”
I followed him in, taking a spot on his left. He winked in reply, a playful smile splitting his cheeks. He started jumping back and forth, getting a good rhythm. “Head turns. I’ll count.” Before I could say anything, he started.
Nick was completely in shape, while I was definitely not. For forty-five minutes, he tortured me as he assured me that with hard work, I’d get where I wanted to be. Afterward, I thanked him and rushed my sweaty ass to the shower.
I always felt so much better after a workout. It was like the fog in my mind disappeared and I could see things clearly. My worries always seemed less horrific. I was smiling and relaxed as I meandered my way to the front.
And came to a screeching halt when I rounded the corner to find Matty and Tank leaning on my work station. I grinned in welcome and gave them a little wave. “Is this a b
irthday surprise?”
Neither of them smiled. Matty took a deep breath, surveying me, his eyes cold. “You’re here early.”
“Yeah,” I answered defensively. “I wanted to get in a workout.”
“Just the two of you?” Tank’s tone was condescending.
I sighed and struggled not to roll my eyes. To say they’d hated the idea of me getting a job was the understatement of the year. When they found out it was at a gym, where I’d be the only female employee, they’d tried to tell me I couldn’t accept it.
I’d told them to piss off.
Nick took that moment to join us. He shook their hands and greeted them like old friends, either blatantly ignoring their cold shoulders or not noticing. I hated how suspicious they were.
Nick was every woman’s fantasy, especially when he was dressed for training, wearing only silky red boxing shorts with a giant skeleton head over the crotch, and his dark skin and toned body glistened from the workout. Ink ran along his arms and legs, but it was the giant minotaur dressed as a boxer ready to pounce that took up his entire back that was the thing that most women couldn’t look away from. I glanced up at him and shook my head.
I didn’t find him attractive. He was four or five inches taller and had a good fifty pounds of pure muscle on me. However, his bald face and head didn’t do anything for me. Not to mention that I found his general overall happy and upbeat attitude annoying.
I had a thing for bulky, hairy dickheads who rode Harley’s. Especially the ones who kissed a girl so well that just the thought of it made her smile a month later.
Rob had completely ruined me.
However, Nick had turned into a great friend over the last few weeks. He never questioned it when I snuck out the back or came back an hour late from lunch break. And he covered for me if anyone came looking while I was gone.