by L. A. Sable
“I got to the convocation late, and I was at the top of the hill coming down when you ran out. I wasn’t really paying a whole of attention to you.” Lukas winces a bit as he must belatedly realize how that sounds, but his tone remains sympathetic. “I heard the crash and when I turned to look, there was a man standing exactly where you had been on the sidewalk.”
“Who was it?” I ask, voice tight.
“No idea,” he responds, voice apologetic. “By the time I got to the street, the man was gone and there was crowd of other people.”
“Did you see him push me?”
“No, but I thought it was weird at the time that he ran off instead of trying to help.”
This new bit of information turns over in my mind as I mentally examine every facet. None of it makes any sense and anger becomes the natural emotion that rises as I realize that Asher must have deliberately kept this from me.
Lukas watches me carefully. “Are you okay?”
I realize that I’ve neglected to school my expression and the rage must be readily apparent on my face. “I just hate being reminded of what happened.”
His face falls. “I’m so sorry, Lily. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“It’s okay. I’m glad you told me. Really.” I get up and start gathering my things, forcing an easy smile on my face even as my mind has descended into turmoil. “But I’ve got a headache so I’m going to head back to my room and take a nap.”
Lukas makes an agreeable sound, but the expression on his face is stricken, as if he blames himself for bringing up something that hurt me.
It’s important that I not leave this on a bad note, even as the carefully constructed veneer crumbles around me. On impulse, I lean over him intending to give him a kiss on the cheek. As if fate choreographed the movement, Lukas turns his head at the same moment and our lips meet in a chaste kiss.
Instead of pulling away, I hesitate because I don’t want him to think I’ve rejected him. To my surprise, his mouth opens beneath mine and the kiss morphs from sweetness to passion in an instant.
He kisses me with a longing that feels like an arrow piercing my heart. I realize that Lukas isn’t the type to do things by half-measure. He doesn’t play games to protect his heart, instead he jumps right into the deep end of the pool and only bothers learning how to swim one he’s already in the water.
And I kiss him back as the apology that I’m not able to put into words. I knew when I came back to Black Lake that people might get hurt, but I hadn’t expected the guilt to overwhelm me like this.
For a moment, I imagine that I’m the girl they all think I am, one without baggage or enough secrets to drown in. And I kiss him like being someone’s high school sweetheart is even in the realm of possibility for me and not this sick illusion.
His fingers gently stroke my cheek as the kiss deepens, a counterpoint to the skilled tongue tangling with mine. He’s the perfect mixture of sexy and sweet, genuine with enough of an edge of mystery to keep things interesting.
Lukas could have my heart, if I still had one left to give.
Chapter 12
I wait until Saturday morning to head into town to avoid prying eyes. The last thing I want is for anyone to invite themselves along on this trip.
I’m even wearing the simplest clothes that I own, things that Lily from the Bronx might have sported back in that so innocent time. A pair of old jeans, so loose that I have to keep my belt tight so they don’t fall off my hips.
Voting closed at midnight but the results won’t be released until the end of the weekend. I can’t help but have it on my mind as I speed down the highway.
I expected the swim meet to leave me with a few days of pain after I pushed myself so hard to perform. But even though it’s been over a week, the agony in my back is nearly constant. I’ve been forced to carry pain pills with me, the attacks have gotten so bad. I have no idea what I’ll do when the prescription runs out because if I tell the doctors how much pain I’m in, they might recommend another surgery and I won’t leave school for that.
There’s a million things on my mind and being alone in the car for so long just makes it all seem so much bigger. I can’t stop thinking about what other secrets Asher might be keeping, or the feel of Lukas’s lips on mine or what I’m really trying to accomplish at this point. Kai stopped by my room last night and knocked on the door, but I’d pretended that I was asleep and still haven’t responded to any of his text messages as of this morning. After making out with his brother in the library, I have no idea what to say to him.
The situation has started to seem like more than I can handle, but not in a way that makes me feel like it’s finished and done with. Lukas’s revelation about the man he saw right before the bus crash is just another question without an answer.
And there’s only one man that I think of who has involved himself with me in a way that could be considered suspicious.
Liam’s address isn’t difficult to find. He’s smart enough not to have it listed, but in the age of the Internet that doesn’t mean anything. I haven’t spoken to him since classes started, although I’ve been abusing the privilege of his login for the Inner Circle app.
Until talking to Lukas, I wouldn’t have considered the radio silence from Liam to be anything concerning, but my suspicions have officially mounted at this point. Even back when he was just my math teacher, Liam had taken a special interest in me compared to the other faculty.
I have to know the truth. And the only way I’ll believe a word he says, is if I hear it in person.
As I take the exit that leads into the little rundown town where he lives, I feel a strange sensation wash over me. I’ve been watching the rearview mirror like a hawk for most of the drive so I know that I haven’t been followed, but I can’t fight a sense of foreboding.
If Liam did push me in front of a bus, it’s pretty stupid to show up to his house by myself and accuse him of doing it.
But I want him to convince me he had nothing to do with it and there isn’t anyone else that I can bring into this. For better or worse, I’m on my own.
The rundown apartment building is even worse than it looked on Google Maps and I can’t help but wonder if the Aston Martin will in a chop shop by the time I get back. I park on the street instead of the tiny lot, even though the likelihood of running into someone I know here is basically zero.
Those thoughts aren’t enough to stop me as I stomp up the concrete steps to the third floor. It’s early enough in the morning that nobody is outside and from the looks of it, this place doubles as a crack den.
I knock softly on the door to Unit 3C, more timidly than I intended. When there’s no response, I bang like the police on a raid, letting the anger fuel me in a way that’s probably overkill.
“What the hell?”
The door slams open and Liam appears in the opening with a scowl on his face. The moment that he sees me, the expression changes to one of shocked surprise.
Before I can say a word, he grabs me by the arm and yanks me inside, hard enough that I let out a gasp of pain.
“Watch it.” I wrench my arm out of his grasp as he slams the door shut behind me. “That hurt.”
“What are you doing here?” He growls, eyes a little wild as he looks in the peephole, as if concerned a crowd of onlookers is about to descend outside the door. “How do you know where I live?”
I wave those questions away with an impatient movement. “I came here to ask the questions.”
“What the hell are you on about?”
I take him in for a moment, gaze passing over the gray sweatpants that are slung low on his hips and I realize with a start that he’s not wearing a shirt. Harsh light shines off the lean muscles of his chest and I force myself to look away.
Shaking my head, I focus on the reason that I came all the way out here. “I need to know what you’ve been hiding from me. All of it.”
He seems to realize that the situation is spiraling out of the control a
nd takes a deep breath, softening his tone as he gestures behind him. “This the worst possible way to be woken up on a Saturday morning. Why don’t you sit down while I get myself together?”
Then he turns away, giving me no choice but to follow him further into the apartment. With a sigh, I acknowledge to myself that confronting him in the entryway probably isn’t the best way to get him to talk.
“How do you take your coffee?” Liam asks from the kitchen where he’s filling a pot with water from the tap.
“Cream and sugar,” I reply, surveying the room. A skim soy latte is probably too much to expect. “Whatever you have is fine.”
Liam has kept the place neat, I have to give him that. Although the amount of possessions visible is limited enough that a true mess might not even be possible to achieve. An old card table sits in front of the window and across from it is a threadbare couch. There isn’t anything on the walls that are painted a sickly yellow.
When he comes back with two steaming cups and places them on the battered coffee table, I realize that most of the anger has faded away. I can’t help but feel like a boat in the middle of the ocean when all the wind has died from its sails. Looking at the sleepy-eyed man in front of me wearing a weary smile, it’s impossible to imagine that he’s capable of attempted murder.
“So why don’t you tell me what prompted this very early morning visit?” he asks, taking a careful sip of coffee. “And what I need to do to ensure that it never happens again?”
“I didn’t mean to bust down the door,” I say, embarrassment slowly creeping in at the annoyed amusement on his face. “Things have been weird lately and I’m not thinking straight.”
“What can I do to help?”
So I tell him what I learned from Lukas, that I hadn’t been alone out on that sidewalk and there had been a man behind me, presumably the person who had pushed me in front of that bus. I watch his face as I share my suspicions, alert for any hint of guilt or hidden knowledge.
“And you thought that was me?” His voice is so incredulous and full of hurt that he’s either the world’s greatest actor or legitimately innocent. “I don’t even know what to say about that.”
“It didn’t sound as bad when I was working through it in my mind,” I acknowledge with a sigh. My hands reach for the coffee cup, focusing on the burning sensation on my skin and not the sudden guilt overwhelming me.
“You’re basically accusing me of trying to kill you.”
“It was a question, not an accusation.” I know I don’t have much of a leg to stand on, but I can’t help but try to make the situation sound a little less crazy than it actually is. “I just needed you to tell me to my face that it wasn’t you.”
Liam sighs. “I’m going to forgive you for the momentary lapse in sanity, given what you’ve been through.”
“Thanks for that,” I reply with the only smallest hint of sarcasm.
“What did Lukas say the man looked like?”
“He didn’t. It was too far away to see clearly.”
“So the kid got nothing? Hair color, clothes, a limp, nothing?”
I shrugged. “I wasn’t exactly on Lukas’s radar at that point. He wouldn’t have been paying any attention until it was too late.”
“That isn’t exactly a rousing endorsement of Mr. Greenfield-Walton’s priorities,” Liam responds, tone droll. “Please tell me this isn’t someone you’re planning to rely on going forward.”
“Not the fairest assessment, but I see your point.” I let out a heavy sigh, feeling all the energy leach out of me as I realize how completely ill-advised this trip has turned out to be. I’m no closer to any answers and I’ve made a complete fool of myself in front of one of the few people that I actually respect. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this tired in my entire life.”
“Maybe I can still help,” Liam murmurs, expression suddenly sympathetic. “I’ve actually been thinking about you a lot lately.”
I can’t stop my eyebrows from going up. “Really?”
“Not like that. You know I’m interested in what’s happening at Black Lake. Just because I’m not there anymore, doesn’t mean I’ve lost interest.”
The fatigue flees in an instant. “What do you mean? Have you learned something?”
“Nothing earth-shattering as all that, but you might be interested.” He gets up and crosses the room toward a desk covered in papers that represents the only cluttered thing I’ve seen in the apartment. Picking up a stack, he rifles through it with focused attention. “I’ve been trying to uncover everything I can about the Bellamy’s. Their family money helped found the school which is why you see the name everywhere. It’s hard for me to believe there’s a sinister plot going that doesn’t involve them.”
I’m just glad that he hasn’t covered the walls in photos and news clipping with lines of red yarn connecting everything, like some crazed detective in a noir thriller.
“You mean Asher’s family,” I murmur, trying to decide if this is very good or very bad news.
“I can’t think of anyone else who might have a motive to hurt you. Asher, especially.”
A familiar pang shoots through me at the mention of his name and I hate myself for it. “Asher couldn’t have pushed me. My mom was sitting next to him in the auditorium when I got hit. Unless you’re suggesting that she’s in on it too.”
“Of course not.” Liam picks up a sheaf of papers, looks through it and then tosses it aside with a sound of frustration. “What about his father?”
“You mean, Frank Bellamy?” I roll that over in my mind but struggle to make it fit. “I’ve never even met him. Why would he want to hurt me?”
“Maybe he doesn’t like that you’re in the family now, especially considering that he’s been cut off.”
“Then why go after me? It would make way more since to target Trish.” And I remember that Frank had contacted my mother months ago. I have to swallow hard as a sharp pain blooms in my chest. “None of that makes any sense.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But I discovered something very interesting about Frank Bellamy.”
“What?”
Liam finally finds what he’s looking forward and lets out a relieved sigh, as if he wasn’t sure until that moment whether it had all been a figment of his imagination. I fight a flutter of disappointment as he grabs a robe that’s hanging over the back of a chair and shrugs it on before returning to me.
“Here, look.” He spreads the papers out on the table and then gives me a triumphant smile.
I hate to disappoint him but all I see is bad photocopies of tiny print. “You’re going to have to explain this to me.”
“These are medical records,” he says, as if that should be obvious. “Frank’s records, to be exact.”
When I pick up one of the sheets, I notice for the first time that Frank Bellamy’s name is written across the top. “How did you get these?”
“I have my ways.”
My gaze scans over the pages, most of the information seems innocuous: blood pressures and weight. “His cholesterol is a little high. Other than that, I don’t get it.”
“Look at this.” He slides another page in front of me.
I follow the path of his finger, trying to figure out what’s supposed to be so earth-shattering before he has to explain it to me. “Wait, is that a sperm count?”
“Is there a singular form of that word because Frank maybe has one swimming around, judging from how low that number is. If he’s lucky.”
“That’s just something that happens to older men, right?”
“Except look at that date on the top, these results are from about 18 years ago.”
Which means the results are from before Asher was even born.
“Wait,” I say, mind whirling as I try to put the pieces together. “With a sperm count this low, Frank shouldn’t have been able to get his wife pregnant.”
From the look on Liam’s face, he’s thinking the same thing that I am. His next words only confirm
it. “Maybe he didn’t. Maybe Frank Bellamy isn’t Asher’s father.”
“Which would mean Asher isn’t actually a Bellamy.” The scale of it is more than I can comprehend for a moment as what this could mean if it were true slowly sinks in. “What would happen if this got out?”
“Nothing good,” Liam acknowledges with a sigh. “When Frank got involved with that embezzling scandal, it was national news. This would be explosive. Asher would probably end up disinherited, too. There wouldn’t be anybody left to inherit Carter’s money.”
Except Trish, I realize feeling sick. People have killed for a lot less than a billion dollars.
“Asher didn’t have anything to do with this,” I insist, but the words sound hollow even to my ears.
Liam looks at me like I’m a little kid who’s just been told that Santa Claus doesn’t exist. “Are you absolutely sure about that? Maybe he’s been working with his father this entire time. You said yourself that he’s been trying to scare you away from day one.”
I don’t want to believe it, but that doesn’t stop it from maybe being true. “I have to talk to him about this.”
“Not alone, you’re not.” Liam stands so suddenly that the force of it knocks a bunch of papers off the table. “It’s not safe for you to be anywhere near him.”
“If Asher wanted to kill me, he’s had ample opportunity.” I fight off a blush as I realize just how true those words are. “And for all you know, he’s just another victim in all this.”
Liam glares down at me, expression suddenly altered. “Why are you working so hard to defend him? Last I saw, Asher treats you like the dirt under his shoe.”
“We mostly just avoid each other these days. Being an asshole, doesn’t mean he’s capable of murder.”
“It just seems like you’re stretching benefit of the doubt a little far.” There’s no mistaking the accusation on his face. “What else is going on between the two of you.”
“Nothing!”
“I don’t believe you.”