Shred of Decency (Shattered Hearts of Carolina Book 2)

by Jody Kaye

  “Move over.” Skye rubs his hands on his jeans, itching to get into my spot.

  “Dude,” I protest as he pushes me out of my seat.

  “I have more experience. I’ll get it faster.”

  I scrub my face, letting the master have at it. I can’t believe we’re doing this or how fast the windows open and flash on the screen as Skye digs deeper. He’s Carver’s numbers guy and, fortunate for us all, his skills started as a teenage hacker.

  “We have hit the mother lode,” he proclaims. His index finger clicks, making a few last keystrokes. The man hasn’t reached for a mouse once, nor has he looked at his hands. It’s crazy impressive. “Semester one; stalking. Two; aggravated assault. Oh look, the complaint was dropped. That doesn’t look shady as fuck when this Brandon guy has a string of complaints against him almost every year he’s been on campus.”

  “Does it say who filed the complaints?”

  “Not here. They’re cross-referenced to another department’s server. But if it started out as stalking, I’m willing to put money on most of them being from women.”

  “How much?” Jasper leans back in a chair. His legs are crossed and his feet are up on the desk. Funky dress socks peek between his loafers and khaki-colored dress pants.

  “You mean how many?”

  “No, I meant how much money.”

  “It was a figure of speech. I’m not betting on someone else’s misfortune. Karma’s a bitch.”

  “Whatever helps you sleep.” Jasper laughs.

  “Sleeping is exactly why we’re doing this. Hailey doesn’t need me underfoot each morning.” I raise an arched eyebrow. “Those girls shouldn’t have to worry about some sleaze coming into their room in the middle of the night.”

  Jasper’s gaze narrows and his lips pinch as he shuts the fuck up. He’d love to keep playing it off that he’s helping because of what Aidy went through, but deep down he’s worried about his girlfriend being away from home and his inability to safeguard her.

  I swear the guy saw red while forcing me to explain Brandon raped Aidy in her dorm room. Ever since, both Skye and Jasper have had my back. The way they’re standing up assuages the guilt I have over revealing Aidy’s secret. I’m praying she never finds out, all the while understanding Aidy has every right to be livid with me. If she’d let anyone in on my past, I’d be rip shit. I keep convincing myself what the guys and I are doing is for the both of us. There’s no reason to ruin an inmate’s life when they’ve done a bang-up job of it themselves. But to get recompense for Aidy? That’s two birds with one stone. I’ll sleep soundly after that fucker Brandon’s taken down a few notches and prove to myself on the outside I can protect what’s mine, by whatever means necessary.

  The younger guys have put the mill’s resources at my fingertips. Jasper and Skye are also in their mid-twenties. Compared to them, I haven’t been around long. However, I think they would have stepped up no matter who needed their assistance. Adding on that Aidy is Kimber’s daughter, and me wanting payback for what he did to Aidy, their help became vengeance. The one other thing I’ve gleaned hanging out here is this group is tight knit. Hurting one is like hurting them all.

  “Write these dates down,” Skye instructs me, rattling off a range of months.

  “Okay, now what?” I ask, feeling like a dumbass.

  “It’s your turn to work some magic, surveillance boy. Trig show you how to use those magic machines down the hall?”

  “For the most part.”

  “Okay, so what you don’t know we’re about to teach. It’s movie time. We’re about to watch this scumbag implicate himself using the college’s security feeds.”

  “Think they keep recordings that far back?”

  “At least as far as we need to see for Aidy’s sake, but if you’re worried we’re steamrollering the wrong guy, I’d check out the last date.”

  “It’s a week ago,” I say in disbelief.

  “Yup,” Skye pops the p. “He said it didn’t happen. She said it happened close to campus.” Skye reaches for a paper coming off the printer nearby. He hands me Brandon’s mugshot and rap sheet. “The police booked our boy for sexual assault. And with the college’s previous history of looking away, they’re all about damage control right now. He’s not supposed to be on campus.”

  “Sounds familiar.” My sarcasm isn’t lost on the guys. The university let the hazing go too far with the basketball team and ignoring it came back to bite them in the ass. “So what do I do with this?” I have an eerie pang of second thoughts. The assault charge could put Brandon away. If it sticks, and that seems like a lousy bet to take.

  “You ask yourself what happens when Brandon gets off and does it again.”

  “Or what happens to this victim when his lawyer drags her reputation through the mud.” Jasper pipes up.

  “Then you make a decision and live with it.”

  I take the paper from Skye and crumple it into a ball. It lands in the wastebasket.

  “Nothing but net,” Skye quips. He’s the worst player of the three of us, but gets a charge out of practicing and trying to surpass what his current skills are. The guy loves a challenge.

  “Get over it, man.” Jasper nudges his shoulder. “Morgan has yet to miss a shot…on the court. You sure on this?” he asks me and when I nod, Jasper walks toward the hall. “I’m going to talk to Mordecai’s guy. See if he can take care of clean-up. Twenty-one after lunch?”

  I let out an awkward chuckle. There’s something odd about a buddy saying he’s phoning a crook and following the comment up with an offer for a pickup basketball game in the rear parking lot.

  Both Skye and I agree with Skye busting my balls about how good I am until we enter the security camera room. I run through hours of footage, fast-forwarding and rewinding. Watching Brandon swagger into Aidy’s dorm to pick her up the night he attacked her. Seeing him hoist Aidy up while she was visibly intoxicated. Drugged. Then the same swagger out, vape pressed to his lips like…Well, I don’t know what it was like. Aidy was so out of it. There’s no way it was mutual. Consensual. Witnessing Aidy in the days after, her clothes rumpled. The bouncy red ponytail, which made her look so much like Kimber, flattened to her neck, and stray hairs clung to her face. I even see the day she dyes it purple because she wants to be someone different from the person he’s made her. Fun-loving instead of broken.

  Brandon’s rap sheet is in the wastebasket already. I don’t want to see anyone else hurt the way Aidy was, but I still haven’t made my final choice.

  Later in the afternoon, my nerves are on fire out on the makeshift court. I’m impatient the way I was in the days leading up to the day the State remanded me into custody. There’s this feeling like I’m a racehorse penned in the starting gate and the gun is seconds from being shot. I miss shots I never miss. I stumble. I’m breathing heavy like this is the championship finals.

  “Stop overthinking it.” Jasper rests a hand on my shoulder. “Go take care of the girls. The rest’ll fall into place.”

  “I’m not.” I shrug him off, not wanting Jasper to think I’m a pussy. “I’m sore and bushed. It’s throwing my game off.”

  “Yeah.” He shoots the ball at my chest and I almost miss the catch. “Skye just scored on us both. When does that ever happen?”

  “Hey!” Skye shouts. “I’m here to make you look good. Like at Sweet Caroline’s you’re there to make me look even better, wingman.”

  I toss the ball back at Jasper and he juggles it between his palms. “Go. Hay will let you into the dorms so you can wait for Aidy. You won’t stop dwelling on it until you see her. And when you do, you’ll know you’re making the right choice.”

  When I get to the dorm entrance, Jasper is only half wrong. Brandon is the one holding the door open for me.

  “Hey, how’re you doing?” he asks in a friendly, nonchalant tone.

  This is my in and I know what I have to do.

  Given how the weeks dragged in September, it’s hard to believe this
one is closing in on the longest of my life. I’ve been on holiday break for six days. Being home with my parents has put a damper on spending time with Morgan. Morgan has had installs and worked late a few nights for Trig. We’ve talked on the phone, but it’s not the same. Last weekend, I babysat for the family I had throughout high school while the parents shopped and then went to their office parties as a distraction.

  There are still a few days until Christmas, and the anticipation of seeing him is what’s kept me going. Not having Morgan close is driving me out of my mind. I miss him like crazy. And I may have the silly smile that Hailey got plastered across my face whenever he texts. He’ll be here to meet my parents in a few minutes. I’m watching Owen tonight since everyone else is working. Tomorrow Carver is throwing a Christmas party at the mill. I’m beyond excited to go meet the rest of the people who live there and put faces to names. I’m also intimidated by it. Cece says Carver goes all out for the holidays.

  Not quite a black-tie occasion, I have my dress for the party packed at the bottom of my bag sitting on the couch in the living room. It’s one I haven’t worn in a while and I hope Morgan likes it and I fit in with his friend’s girlfriends.

  I’m running amuck looking for all the stuff I’ll need over the next few days. My belongings are spread between this house, my dorm room, and Kimber’s. Trying to keep track of it all is nuts.

  “What is she in a tizzy about?” Nancy, a neighbor who recently moved in across the street, is baking with my mother for a cookie exchange.

  “She’s babysitting over the next few days and is afraid she’ll forget something,” Mom replies.

  I haven’t made a big deal about the party when, for me, it’s a bigger moment than Morgan’s arrival here. I’m afraid I’ll blow it. Embarrass him or Trig. Not be invited back. I want Morgan’s family to like me even more than I want mine to like him. I think it’s because we’ll need their support once my parents find out about his jail time.

  “I’m pretty sure I left my favorite hoodie at the dorm. The locked dorm. That I can’t get into for the next three weeks!” I exclaim as if it’s what has me flustered.

  “Luckily, she’s not driving all the way to Brighton. Her new boyfriend is picking her up and dropping her off.” My parents think I’m watching Owen both nights. It’s not untrue. I’m sure my baby brother will be on my hip at the party so his parents can enjoy themselves.

  “Ah…” Nancy replies all-knowing. “How do this child’s parents feel about your boyfriend?”

  Considering he lives with them, I’d say, “They’re okay with him being around.”

  “This is the first of two overnight stays during Aidy’s break. The same family is heading out of town over New Year’s and she’s watching their son while they’re gone.” Mom doesn’t admit our connection to Kimber. I take it to mean she’s not close with the new neighbor.

  “Well, it’s nice that you might get a kiss next weekend when the clock strikes twelve, dear.” Nancy’s dressed swanky to bake and uses the parallel to tell my mother about a trip she’s about to go on. Whatever she’s saying slips right past my ears.

  I’m too caught up in celebrating on the thirty-first. Morgan and I will be alone. I’m nervous as hell because I’m beginning to want what could happen to happen, and I’m petrified I’ll turn into an over-emotional freak show in front of him if we do have sex. What if I slip back, trying to align those awful, fuzzy memories when we’re intimate? I hate thinking about anyone other than Morgan when I’m with Morgan. He’s patient with me and doesn’t deserve the elephant in the room squashing any more of his hopes and dreams. Ugh, was that waxing poetic? I mean, do guys do more than fantasize about getting laid?

  I’m guessing he’s further along surviving than I am. He keeps details locked up. It makes me understand Sloan’s advice even more. Morgan doesn’t owe me an explanation and his gentleness when we fool around proves to me he’ll never pressure me for more than I’m willing to tell. I don’t like that both of us have gone through this, but feel like it helps us understand the other’s needs on a different level.

  “Mail call, Aidy.” My dad slaps envelopes on the counter.

  I dash back in the room, stuffing my cosmetics bag and toothbrush in the duffle. I’ve been stalking the mailman since break began and have told my parents my college portal login to access my grades online isn’t working. Since it’s winter break—and my parents are just figuring out how to download apps on their cell phones—they’ve bought my line that the tech department must be on vacation too and it’s why I haven’t been able to get anyone to assist me.

  “Oh, your grades are here, Aidy! I’m opening them.” Mom wants bragging rights so she can tell Nancy what a good head I have on my shoulders.

  “No, mom, wait!”

  I trip on the edge of the sofa, stumbling forward as she rips the adhesive. The smile on her face fades when she unfurls the letter.

  “What is this?”

  I can see gears working in Mom’s head as she tries to come up with a plausible explanation for a D, two Cs and a B. The latter I’m proud of. With Morgan encouraging me to study and quizzing me, I pulled it out on my paper and got the much needed A. But the three close to failing marks overshadow how hard I studied at the end of term.

  My dad takes the paper from mom, focusing hard on it like a legal briefing. My parents have never opened my mail, but this is why I was trying to get to it first. It would be awkward enough in front of company if my failure was as simple as partying instead of not attending classes. The underlying reason isn’t something I’m willing to discuss with my parents. Ever. Not to mention, Don and Ghillie Fairley raised me with civility in a household where we didn’t air our dirty laundry to anyone. Not even a soiled sock, or a failing grade. This is an embarrassment to them.

  “We can talk about it when I get back. Morgan’s truck is pulling in the driveway,” I shove the grades in my back pocket, reminding them of how important this moment is, and zipping my bag. Making it to the door, I pull Morgan inside. The sight of him and his cautious smile relaxes me.

  He doesn’t kiss me, but cups my cheek. “Missed you.”

  I lean into his touch. “Me too.”

  My parents’ file into the foyer with Nancy lurking in the threshold.

  Not aware of the recent uproar, my boyfriend is confident holding his hand out to my dad. “Sir, Morgan Wescott.”

  My dad’s clasped his palm and is about to pretend he’s pleased to meet Morgan when Nancy begins vehemently shouting. Time stands still and the four of us are in shock, trying to figure out what’s happening.

  “No. NO!” Nancy shrieks, pointing her finger at him. “Don’t you have a shred of decency to leave a poor girl alone? There’s your reason, Ghillie. Your daughter’s grades have gone downhill because he’s dragging her down to his level.”

  Morgan drops my dad’s hand like it’s on fire when his eyes lock onto Nancy’s.

  “You killed my son!” she spits.

  “You’re mistaken. It was an accident. A horrible accident.” I come between the pair, trying to defend Morgan. He tries to tell me to stop, but I ignore the protests.

  I know Morgan and what he’s been through. There was no intended malice in what happened to Rob at all. Morgan took responsibility and did his time for his friend’s death. We’re facing our challenges together and finding ways to heal. However, this woman’s grief cuts him to the quick.

  “Oh, God, Morgan Wescott?” My mother’s hand covers her face. “The boy you’d told me about, Nancy?”

  Relief and confusion mar my parent’s features. Nancy is crying. I don’t blame her. She lost so much. All I can think of is Morgan describing how he’d expected Nancy’s son to still be his friend today.

  “You went to prison…” Dad trails off, looking like he’s taken a punch to the gut when it’s Morgan they’re casting aspersions on.

  “You can’t judge what you don’t know!” I demand.

  They have Nancy’s si
de of the story. I’m sure it’s awful. But is it more awful than Morgan’s, mine? When it comes down to the basic facts, I’m clear. Pain is pain. No one will ever fully understand both sides, and sometimes you have to accept you’re not entitled to it. Moreover, I haven’t lived through Nancy’s tragedy, so I’ll never read the situation the way she is, and none of them have endured what Morgan and I did. They can’t fathom the reason we’re together is deeper than what’s on the surface.

  “I think maybe you should wait to go to Kimber’s until we’ve talked this out.” My dad has recovered and has his best lawyer voice on, trying to get me to take it down an octave.

  “No,” I reply, more in control of my emotions. “I made a commitment and won’t back out because you don’t have all the facts.”

  “I can’t watch this. I can’t believe you’d let your daughter lie to you like this and leave with a criminal.” Nancy bolts out the door.

  My heart sinks for her and I worry about the way she views my parents. Oddly, I’m not as concerned with what she thinks of me or Morgan.

  “Aidy, it’s obvious Morgan has something to do with the failing grades. He should go so we can sit down and get to the root of this.” My dad is negotiating with me like I’m on trial.

  “There is where you’re wrong. Morgan has everything to do with me getting through this semester. But I’m an adult. I don’t owe you any more of an explanation.” I sling my bag over my shoulder. “We’re going to be late.” I’m determined to leave.

  “If you need more time, I can come back with Owen later,” Morgan offers.

  “We can discuss this in a few days. When everyone has calmed down.” I’m as blindsided by Nancy’s connection to Morgan as my parents. We need to leave so I can figure out how to manage the fallout from this without it painting anyone in a poor light or revealing truths my mom and dad have no privilege to.

  “Don’t forget, I pay your tuition,” my dad reminds me.

  “What’s that supposed to mean? One bad semester and suddenly I’m not good enough anymore?”

  “You didn’t even try.” Dad digs in, badgering me to get to Morgan. Or rather, to get me away from Morgan.