Jaded, Page 36

  Sheila turned almost sympathetic eyes towards me and said softly, "She went home. He wasn't with her the whole night."

  "I can't…this is preposterous!"

  I felt the string quickly racing from my hands. The end was nearing and I watched, horrified and in slow motion, as it came and passed through. My hands were too slow, too clumsy, and I stood without an anchor.

  "You need to wake up about your friend, Jaded. I understand the blinders considering all the things that have happened to you. I understand why you're denying what's in front of your eyes, but open your eyes. His prints were on the fourth letter. He's virtually got no alibi for either of the murders and he's got the criminal history to back up our claims. He's got a one way ticket to being a career criminal with anti-social qualities. And I'm not talking someone who's just unfriendly. I'm talking anti-social personality disorder. Go to any prison and you'll find more than you can count. That's where they go, to prison."

  "I…"

  Everything was collapsing.

  "We've got a psychologist coming in for an assessment. He's going to tell us that Corrigan is capable of murdering two teenage girls. Judges listen to those guys."

  "Corrigan didn't murder anyone. My god—he was arrested because he thinks one of you guys know who did and they're not doing anything about it," Bryce said harshly.

  Sheila quieted and seemed to withdraw, though her feet didn't move.

  Bryce saw it too and he murmured, not missing a beat, "Is that what this is about? He fingered one of you guys so you're taking him down? Does it work that way?"

  "You better watch what you're claiming…," Sheila said faintly, but she backed off.

  "Can we talk to him?" I asked, a sudden white flag rose in the air.

  Sheila glanced over my shoulders, sighed, and said faintly, "No."

  "Fine." I nodded tightly and Bryce moved ahead of me for the door. He saw the disengaged expression on my face and abruptly bundled me outside, away from prying eyes and ears. The cold air was cool and crisp. It was exactly what I needed.

  Bryce waited behind me…

  And then I turned swiftly and punched him.

  Bryce didn't move. He didn't react. He didn't even flinch. He knew it was coming.

  "You came here and talked to her?!" I exclaimed, harshly.

  Bryce knew it was coming. He murmured, "I wanted to help. I want them to know as much as possible to find this psycho."

  "And instead, they twisted your words and they're still after Corrigan!"

  Bryce didn't say anything, not for awhile. And I held my breath, knowing that was the worst reaction I could've hoped for…and then I heard, faintly, …

  "Maybe they're after the right guy."

  I sucked in my breath and lashed out blindly, "You did not just say that!"

  Bryce backed up. "I'm just saying—"

  I turned my back, but my words were lethal, "You did not just say that!"

  "I did, Sheldon." He sighed heavily behind me.

  "Go away," I said tightly.

  "No," he said just as tightly.

  "You cannot…it's not Corrigan…"

  Bryce sighed, ragged, and said softly, faintly, "I think we both need to face the facts that we don't know who it is…"

  Chapter 30

  They wouldn't let Corrigan out on bail. He was too important and sacred. I agreed, but for different reasons. As we left, we bypassed his parents. They'd been called by another student, a Good Samaritan that would be rewarded when Corrigan hunted him down in thanks.

  Harris dropped us off at home and we found Mandy to be true to her word. Everyone was gone except Chet and Tatum. The house was nearly spotless and all three were lounging on the couches, watching television.

  Bryce took a beer for me and one for him before he dropped down on the closest empty seat next to Mandy.

  I was exhausted, but I still noticed how Mandy tensed.

  Mandy may be more mature than the average girl, but she still had the same schoolgirl tendencies for the average crush. Bryce was oblivious and I was oblivious to his outstretched hand as he waited for me to notice the beer.

  "You guys get Corrigan out?" Chet asked.

  I curled on Bryce's lap as he answered, a deep timber that reverberated through his chest to mine.

  "No. They wouldn't let us post bail until he saw a judge, but his parents got called. They showed when we were leaving."

  Chet barked out a laugh, along with Tatum.

  Mandy frowned and asked, "What? I don't get it."

  No one bothered to explain it, but Chet remarked, "Corrigan's going to love that."

  "Who called?" Tatum asked. "The cops can't do that."

  "A student."

  "Corrigan's going to love that kid." Chet cracked another grin in amusement.

  "Thanks for cleaning," I told Chet.

  He shrugged and gestured to Mandy and Tatum, "They helped. Mandy got all the sobbing hystericals out and Tatum helped with the guys. And some Kevin guy took off. He said that nothing came up, but the stuff was still running. He said you'd know what he meant."

  Tatum grinned proudly, "All the guys helped out, but most wanted to go to Harris'. He's having an after-party party at his place, but I don't think he actually knows that since he was with you guys."

  "Don't suppose you two are going?" Chet murmured.

  Bryce slid a hand down my back and answered, "No, we're not going." His hand stopped caressing my leg, but he tightened his hold and clasped me strongly against him.

  "Let's go to Harris'," Tatum exclaimed as he stood from the couch.

  Mandy sighed and stood, slower.

  Chet grinned as they left. He stopped just short of the stairs and said as an afterthought, "That Donadeli kid showed up tonight. He said that he was invited, but he took off again. He's going to come back later in the morning to pick up the Party Packs. Have a good night, guys!"

  His chuckle could be heard as he jogged upstairs and shut the door behind him.

  As the door closed with a deafening click, the laughter was cut off abruptly.

  The absence echoed around the mansion and all I heard was Bryce's breathing.

  I moved and straddled him instead.

  Bryce's hand fell to my legs and he relaxed against the back of the couch.

  Our eyes met and we both waited for the other to break the laughter's absent echo.

  I broke it and murmured, "Mandy has a crush on you."

  "Left field." Bryce grinned. "So?"

  "So. Nothing."

  He asked and watched me intently, "Or were you hoping for a reaction?"

  "No," I lied.

  "What are you doing? I don't care about Mandy. You know that."

  I said evasively, "Mandy's not stupid. She's kinda cool. I like her."

  "She's stupid for being friends with Becky Lew."

  "You're stupid for letting her sit on your lap all those times," I pointed out.

  It didn't escape my notice that his hands swiftly pulled me farther down. I felt him jerk upwards at the contact and grinned, smug.

  "You know what that was about." Bryce bent forward and kissed my shoulder. He trailed towards my neck and settled there.

  "I know," I sighed and curled a hand around his neck to hold him in place.

  No more words were shared until we were both panting and I had been transferred to lie on the couch. Bryce lifted himself up and said, out of breath, "I don't want to do this here. Not with those feeds still going…"

  I shuddered at the reminder, but nodded and crawled up as he moved off the couch.

  We walked in unspoken agreement to my bedroom. Bryce led and I followed. The light was left off as I silently packed a bag and Bryce waited on the edge of the bed. When I was done, I turned and Bryce lifted the bag out of my fingers. He carried it and his free hand found mine.

  We walked down the stairs, flipped the lights off, and programmed the alarm system. The door was locked and we were in Bryce's car, heading towards his place with
in moments.

  "What about your mom?" I hadn't asked before, but I asked now.

  "She took Savannah and Luca to our Aunt Kelly's. Mom called and left a message. She doesn't feel safe with everything going on in the community."

  "Her words?" I grinned and relaxed in the seat.

  "Her words exactly." Bryce shrugged. "I'm okay knowing that my little sister and brother aren't around right now."

  "Yeah."

  Bryce reached over and took my hand. I never knew that my fingers grasped his, desperately.

  The rest of the way was in silence. When we got outside, it was peaceful. It was shattered when we both shut our doors. Bryce led me inside, in the dark, and we moved into his bedroom.

  He waited on the bed as I moved into his bathroom and cleaned for the night. We bypassed each other and then I curled underneath his blankets. As I waited, a tear slid down, but it was brushed briskly away and I sat up to open Bryce's window an inch.

  He always liked that. He liked the cool breeze of fresh air.

  When he came back in, he sat on the edge of the bed and looked at me. Our eyes met as the moonlight filtered inside and cast shadows across our features, but our eyes were glitteringly alive and we saw the other.

  "I can't…" He sighed, raggedly.

  I shook my head. There was too much in the air with Corrigan in jail, the stalker still out there, and Bryce was leaving me. He couldn't say anything to make any of it right so I just shook my head.

  Bryce sighed again and moved towards me.

  Tenderly, he kissed me.

  The kiss inflamed and I found myself clutching to him. Bryce shifted so I could lay down and he rose above me. I closed my eyes against the onslaught of pleasure. He stretched out on the side with one leg thrown over mine, proclaiming his hold, as his mouth kissed mine again and slid down. With each kiss that trailed south, I heard his breath exhale. I felt his breath on my skin and raked my hands through his hair.

  Bryce lifted his head, met my eyes, and slid back up to kiss my lips.

  We made love for the rest of the morning. The last twenty four hours had rolled slowly by and we hadn't enjoyed the night. It was morning when we got to bed and it was still morning when we breathed after the last climax that pulsed our bodies. Bryce collapsed on me with an arm thrown around my waist and his head rested on my shoulder.

  He fell asleep and I stayed awake. I trailed a hand down his back, feeling the sweat, and muscles that aligned and gave him the structure of who he was.

  I fell in love with him. I had said it again.

  I wasn't his girlfriend and laying there, with him breathing for us, I realized that I wasn't going to be his girlfriend. We weren't simple like that. We were best friends and lovers, but girlfriend/boyfriend limited us beneath what we were. We were more and I was loath to take a label that didn't justify who I was or how I felt.

  I heard movement in the house and slid out from underneath Bryce's warmth. I pulled on my loose scrubs that hung low on my hips and grabbed one of Bryce's sweatshirts to cover my top. Silently, I opened the door and moved out as Bryce rolled over in the bed, fast asleep.

  When I moved into the kitchen, I stopped short in surprise.

  Jefferson Scout stood at the coffeepot, frowning fiercely like it was alien technology.

  "Water and coffee grounds," I said by a greeting. I leaned against the counter, stuffed my hands inside Bryce's sweatshirt, and smirked. "And then you push 'on', but you'll want to make sure it's plugged into the outlet first."

  Jefferson nodded, "Ah. I got it now." He smiled and I saw he had Bryce's smile.

  "Bryce told me that everyone was gone," I murmured, feeling slightly foolish.

  "Yes, well…" He glanced at me, cautiously.

  I replied, "I know about the divorce. Bryce told me."

  "Yes, well…," he continued. "It was too tempting to pass up. My wife left town once she heard that I was back and well—my own home without my wife sounded wonderful."

  I hadn't quite expected that answer. He sounded tired, resigned, and sad. He didn't sound like a father who was about to leave his family behind, with no means to pay their bills.

  "Bryce is sleeping…" I stopped, realized how that sounded, but I finished anyway, "I know that he'll be happy that you're here."

  Jefferson smiled, more to himself than to me, and he noted, "I'm not my wife, Sheldon. I know what you mean to my son even if he doesn't realize that I know, but I do. I'm not going to burn you at the stake like I'm sure that my wife would like to."

  I laughed, genuinely, and replied, "What are you talking about? Your wife is one of my biggest fans. She prays for me, did you know?"

  "Yes. She prays for everything, but I doubt she lives a very Christian lifestyle."

  "No, I doubt she does."

  He sighed as he finished filling the coffeepot. He pushed the 'on' button and remarked, "You know—I don't think I've ever had a conversation with you before. How long have you been with my son?"

  "Seven years." I acknowledged the truth in my response and knew I had kept him away for most of those years. Hindsight is crystal and bitterly true.

  "Well, it's very nice to meet you…finally." Jefferson Scout smiled an adorable smile and I realized why AnnaBelle Scout had fallen in love in the first place. He may have been quiet, but he was gorgeous underneath his seemingly nerdy exterior. A businessman and inventor (from what Bryce had told me once), but I saw a lot of Bryce in his father.

  Color me biased, but I liked the guy.

  "If there's something I've learned from even starting this whole ordeal, it's not to believe what you're told." Jefferson nodded quickly, poured himself a cup of coffee that had slowly filtered through, and added, "Some things don't add up and living with my wife—I pushed a lot of those nagging little things to the back of my mind, but I've paid the price now. She'll take me for everything I have. I'm sure of it, but at least now I have a clear mind. And I can judge for myself what makes sense and what doesn't. Silly, yes, I know, but…I've learned that I can only say what I know. If I didn't, I wouldn't think of saying it at all."

  It was an oddly placed speech and I knew that he spoke from his personal demons, but it jarred my own.

  Everything unraveled as I heard two of his sentiments.

  Bryce had lied. He wasn't working to support the family. His father had enough money and his wife would take most of that from him.

  And Bryce had talked about something that he shouldn't have known. He had said, before the police even told me—"He moved both bodies."