by Mj Fields
After all the law talk, Jade takes the stand. She addresses the judge and jury then reads her letter. I cry, and the woman next to me hands me a tissue, and I do it for her, because she is trying so hard not to.
Lucas is next. He doesn’t address anyone. He simply unfolds the paper and starts to read.
“Hello, I am Lucas Links. Tommy and I have been best friends since we were eight years old. I want you all to know who Tommy was, or is, to me.
“Tommy has always been the only person in this world who, no matter what, would be there for me, without judgment. He loved life and was an amazing man. He was kind and caring. He would always help anyone he thought needed it. Even if they didn’t ask, he would offer. He went to church every week and even dragged me along from time to time. Tommy was an athlete and a good student. He had a beautiful life and a beautiful future planned. Tommy never drank and drove. In fact, he was the one who took care of those who might.”
Lucas takes a deep breath, and his eyes move to the bus driver, a man in his late thirties, maybe forties, and points to him, keeping his finger pointed when he looks at the jury. “This man put every person at risk on that bus and on the road that night. Statistics can prove that it was more than likely not his first offense. Just the first time he got caught. What this man did to Tommy, his family, his friends, his girlfriend, Jade, and his future family is irreversible. He took him from us, and that place in our hearts—in my heart—will remain empty forever. I beg you to understand the loss we all are dealing with. Jade wakes every night crying for him. I have a very hard time myself sleeping.”
He stops pointing and runs a hand through his hair, setting the letter down on the podium. Then he shoves his hands in his pants pockets. “I can’t stop blaming myself for his death, and I wasn’t the one who was driving the bus that killed the man I called brother. I was the one who wanted to go that night. Had we left earlier, or just a few minutes later, we would not be here right now. Had the car been just a little bit farther ahead, it would have been me in a box, buried under dirt, and he still would be here.” He points to Jade’s and Tommy’s family. “He would be holding Jade’s hand, because that’s what Tommy did- he held everyone together, myself included. The hell we go through every day, the hell we go through every night, we will go through for the rest of our lives without Tommy.”
He clears the pain from his throat and continues, “The law is clear; the piddly ass max sentence will be over before Tommy would have even reached his thirty-fourth birthday. Thirty-four.” His voice breaks, and he takes several deep breaths before pointing back at the man. “In fifteen years, Ralph Unwin’s kid will be close to that same age. If he’s lucky, he’ll be able to celebrate birthdays, holidays, first games of his grandkids, but Tommy’s family, friends, and that baby growing in the love of his life’s belly will not be able to do the same, ever.”
He turns and looks at Ralph Unwin. “You killed a man, a good man. One who would have never been so selfish as to get behind the wheel of a bicycle, let alone a fucking bus. The law gives you a maximum sentence, and that punishment does not fit the crime. So, I hope you sit in a cell and feel some of the pain we will every day. When you’re allowed to get out, start over, live, I hope Karma takes care of the rest of your life. And, after that, if you haven’t changed, if you haven’t gotten better, Ralph, I hope you meet your maker, and He decides to let you burn in hell.”
His lawyer stands and objects, but Lucas looks back at the jury, ignoring him.
“You get to do this—make him pay. We are at your mercy. Please show us that, and him none. He doesn’t deserve it.” He sighs. “Thank you for your time.”
When he turns back, I am wiping my eyes, my nose, and dying a little inside when I see his eyes are red and filled with an ocean of tears. He walks directly to Jade and sits down beside her. A heart-shattering sob escapes from her, and I cry some more.
After a brief recess, the jury returns, and the judge reads their verdict.
Ralph Unwin gets what Lucas asked for—the maximum sentence.
I watch them all—Tommy’s family, Jade, Ryan, and Lucas—cry and hug as I make my way to the exit to wait.
When Jade hugs me, I whisper, “I’ll go get the car.”
When I pull up, Lucas opens the passenger door and motions for Jade to get it. Her hands shake as she tries to buckle, so I unbuckle myself and do it for her. Then she grabs me, hugging me tightly, whispering, “It still hurts.”
I hold her. “I know, Jade, I know.”
Once she ready, and Ryan and Lucas are in the SUV, I put it in drive, glance in the rearview, and see Lucas has on sunglasses, his head resting on his hand as he stares out the window. He does this the whole way home.
Let me in.
When I pull into the driveway at home, everyone piles out.
I step to Lucas and hand him the keys. I am about to hug him when he says, “Bathroom.”
Once inside, I wait in the kitchen for him to come out, and when he does, he brushes past me. “Can’t right now.”
I should go after him, but it’s obvious that he doesn’t want that.
A hand clasps my shoulder, and then Ryan hurries past me. “I got this.”
I hurry into the living room to get to Jade, who needs me.
As soon as our eyes meet, she sobs out, “It still hurts.”
I get her to the couch, and she lies on my lap. I smooth her hair with my hand and tell her, “He loves you, Jade, always will.”
“I know. God, I know.”
After several minutes, she falls asleep, and I move from beneath her, get up, and walk into the bathroom, where I melt into silent sobs.
When Jade wakes, I am in the same place I’ve been when she fell asleep. She didn’t see or hear, or even know about my little breakdown. I successfully kept it together.
She smiles sadly. “I think I’d like to go to Tommy’s. Can you take me there?”
“You should call your dad and let him know. He’s supposed to come see you after work.”
She nods.
Returning from dropping Jade off, I walk in the house and see Phoebe and Alex are sitting across the table from one another.
I drop the keys to Toby’s Jeep on the counter. “I took Jade to the Lanes’.”
“The sentencing?” Alex asks, and I tell them that Ralph Unwin got the max sentence, but it was not enough.
“Where is Lucas?” Phoebe asks, and I start to cry.
I tell them about the letter, that he’s been pushing me away since our trip back from Jersey, and that Lucas blames himself.
Phoebe hugs me for a long minute, and then I decide to go for a run.
The entire time I run, I hear him saying over and over in my head, Don’t let me fuck this up, so when I walk in the door, I grab the cordless and call him.
He answers with a short, clipped, “I’m hanging out at home tonight. See you soon.”
“Lucas,” I all but yell so he doesn’t hang up. “I’m sorry, Lucas. Please don’t shut me out.”
He huffs, “This is not about you, Tessa.” And then he says, “Get over it.” And then he hangs up.
Pain threatens to set in, but those words, his words, numb them, Don’t let me fuck this up.
I take a shower, get dressed, and then head out.
Chapter Thirty Six
Stomach in a knots, I walk up the long, paved driveway that is packed with cars as I make my way to his house. I push away the memories from New Year’s Eve that are attempting to stop me and focus on his words, his plea, his truth, and yes, the pain from what he dealt with today, his weakened emotions.
The back gate is locked, as is the garage, so I walk around to the front door and knock.
A guy I don’t know, probably a friend from his old school, a friend of Tommy’s and his, opens the door, looks me over, and then waves me in.
New Year’s Eve slaps me in the face when I see Lucas sitting on the couch with a couple of girls, and the sloppy grin on his face tells m
e he’s messed up.
But that’s it. That’s as far as I get when I decide his don’t let me fuck this up was him telling me he would.
I turn and walk back to the door when I hear his voice boom over everyone else’s in the two rooms full of people.
“What the fuck?”
I hurry out the door and cut across the yard to get to the Jeep when I hear him again.
“Tessa, what are you doing here?” And he says it pissed.
I run to the Jeep and get in.
He whips open the door and says, “I asked, what the hell are you doing here!”
“I’m leaving. Have a good time, Lucas.” I start the engine and begin to shift in reverse when he snatches the keys out and throws them across the yard.
“Get out now,” he hisses, grabbing my arm.
I yank away from him and climb out, hurrying to the area where he launched my keys.
Unfortunately, he grabs them before I can.
“Give me my keys, Lucas.” Angry tears fill my eyes.
“What did you expect when you came here, Tessa?” he snaps.
“Not this.” I grab for my keys.
He takes off toward the back of the house, and I follow.
“Give me my fucking keys!”
He opens the unlocked back gate then hurls my keys into the pool. “Not very warm in there. Probably should wait until they float up.”
Emotions? Hurt, confusion, anger—mostly anger—rage inside of me.
“Nothing to say, Tessa?” he goads.
I break, and I do it screaming, “Keys don’t fucking float, asshole!”
I kick off my shoes, run, and then jump into the freezing cold water, ignoring the cold, ignoring my heart shattering, and focusing on the anger. I find them at the bottom and launch myself up.
When I surface, everyone who was inside is standing around the pool, and Lucas is standing by the stairs. “Hey, everyone, this is Tessa, my girlfriend.” He laughs as he extended his hand, which I completely ignore.
When I attempt to pass him, he grabs my arm, and I yank it away. Then he grabs me around the waist, shoulder to my belly, then lifts and carries me toward the door.
“Let me go, Lucas, before I flip out!” I warn him.
“Please excuse her. She’s on the rag.”
Don’t let me fuck this up? How do you fight something like this? Someone hell-bent on being self-destructive and dragging you down with them?
“Tessa gets a little bit cranky this time of the month,” he says, and everyone laughs.
Devastated, embarrassed, and angry, I want to scream, to cry, to fucking hurt him the way he is hurting me.
Within seconds, he’s up the stairs and dropping me on his bed. Then he snatches the keys from my hand. “You better get changed, baby. We have guests.”
“I’m going home, Lucas!”
“You made a splash. My friends need to meet you.” He shoots daggers out of his eyes at me.
“Lucas, give me my keys,” I demand as I hop off the bed.
He grips the back of my head and runs his thumb over my lower lip. “No, Tessa, you came here. Now you can stay. I might need you later.”
Instinctually, I bite his thumb hard.
He pulls his hand back as if he’s going to slap me.
“Lucas, what are you doing?” I cry.
He points his finger at me, seething, and warns, “Don’t fucking bite me again, got it?”
I run past him, into his bathroom, where I slam and lock the door.
He bangs on it. “Open the door, Tessa, or I’ll break the fucking thing down.”
I wholeheartedly believe he would do just that, so I unlock the door and start to step out. Expecting him to move, he doesn’t.
I glare right back at him, and he grabs my elbow, pulling me toward his closet. “Get changed.”
“Leave the room,” I shoot back.
“Not like I haven’t already seen it all!”
“Get a good look then, because I can guarantee you won’t again! This is unacceptable, Lucas! We are done!”
“Perfect. Number fourteen has got to be down there somewhere.” Lucas laughs maliciously. He then turns, grabbing his keys and phone, and shoves them in his pockets as he walks out the door.
I strip out of my wet clothes then throw on a hoodie and sweatpants, cinching the waist with a hair tie. Then I hang my clothes over his heat duct as best I can.
I will not give him the satisfaction of another scene, I think, crawling to the foot of his bed, and that’s when hurt rears its ugly head and I fall asleep, but it’s not a deep sleep, and I now understand the term sleeping with one eye open, because when the door opens and he walks in, I’m well aware of it.
“I know you’re awake. If you try to leave, I’ll come get you and, shit, maybe you can add that to the list of tragedy left in the wake of Tessa the Terrible!”
He doesn’t just blame himself. He blames me. Of course he does.
“I want to go home. Give me my keys.”
“Nope,” he huffs. “I already called your brother. He’s going to cover for you. Not even an argument, either. He knows you’re not some delicate flower to protect, not anymore.”
“I want to go home!” I scream, tears streaming down my cheek, as he walks into the bathroom.
I hear the shower and want to get up. I want to so badly. Hell, I’ve walked before, and that was at the beginning of the hell that I’ve lived in since Lucas came into my life, but what he said, about him coming to get me, blaming me if something happened to him, that cuts to a new level. So, I lie down and will myself to fall the fuck asleep because, honestly, I’d rather a nightmare to this reality.
When the shower turns off and he puts on a pair of boxers, he lays down and drags me up to the spot next to him, asking, “Anything to say, Tessa?”
“I already said what I wanted to say, and you’re too fucked up to listen.” My body begins to tremble, and it does so harder the more I hold back the angry tears.
“Always the victim, huh?” He pulls me next to him.
“Let me fucking go, Lucas, now!”
“No, you’re where you wanted to be. You didn’t come here to go home, Tessa.”
My shaking isn’t fear. I know he’d never hit me. It’s in anger—rage, actually—and I lie still, hoping that he’ll remember this moment, the moment he hurt the person he professed to love so badly that her shaking body rocks, acting as a lullaby.
I know I should leave. He doesn’t deserve to see my face, nor my anger, nor my tears, but God help me, I can’t, because him coming after me would make those four words a lie, and in this shaking bed, there is but one liar, the one who claims he never lied to me.
When I wake, the digital clock read two a.m. and the spot beside me is empty.
I scramble out of bed, rush around his room, using just the light of the moon to search for my keys, to no avail. I then look around for my clothes and can’t find them. I decide he might as well keep them, too, and walk downstairs in hopes of finding my keys.
When I walk into the kitchen, Lucas is standing against the counter in his boxers with his arms crossed over his chest, looking down. When he hears me, he looks up and searches my face for a reaction.
“I want my keys, Lucas.”
“Tessa, give me a few minutes.” He closes his eyes and whispers, “Please.”
He doesn’t sound fucked up anymore, so I can leave and not worry about his poor choices being my fault.
When he steps toward me, I step back.
“Tessa, I just want to talk.”
“You’ve said enough. I get it. I get it all. I just wish you had told me how you really felt before last week, before …” I stop, remembering how he spoke of my virginity just hours ago, and shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. I get it, and I want to go home now.”
“Ten minutes, baby.” He reaches out his hand.
“Don’t touch me,” I say, voice trembling.
Eyes full of pain, he lifts
his hands. “Okay, just come sit for ten minutes, please.”
I sit on the edge of the couch, feeling him staring at me before he finally breaks the silence with a whispered, “Dammit.” Silence again, and then he begins.
“I’m sorry. I really am. Please look at me, Tessa. I was fucked up, and I promise it won’t happen again.”
“No, actually, on the way home from what I thought was an amazing time at your family’s, you were not fucked up, Lucas. When you were rude to me this morning, you were quite sober. When you treated me horribly today, you were not fucked up. When you read your speech at court, I kind of got it. I wanted to help you through this, but the problem is it’s me you blame, and I get that, too.” I clear my throat. “What I don’t get, Lucas, is why you couldn’t talk to me. Why this thing with you and I happened when you so obviously hate me.”
“I don’t—”
“What you have managed to accomplish today is amazing,” I talk over him. “You have made me the reason for a horrible accident that no one could have stopped. You have rubbed my face in how worthless you think I am by not wanting me by your side. You have told people, strangers to me, that I’m on the rag in an effort to make me look crazy. In less than a week, you’ve shown me what it’s like to be one of thirteen and, tonight, you told me you were moving on to fourteen. You’ve held me here against my will, and you expect me to be okay with that? I’m sorry for whatever shit I’ve brought into your life, you self-centered, pompous ass, but I won’t take that from you anymore. Now give me my keys.” I stand up.
“Is it my turn yet, Tessa?”
“No, actually, it’s not. You’re not going to change for me or anyone else. You don’t want someone to love and who loves you. So, give me my keys, or I’ll walk.”
His eyes fill with tears. “Please, Tessa, please. I love you.”
“You may think that right now, but Lucas, you don’t. I know you’re hurting. I just don’t know how to help when you keep pushing me away. I don’t know if I even want to try anymore. Not when your pain draws me to want to ease yours and makes you want to cause me …” I stop. “No.”