Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“You stabbed my guy and removed part of his ear.” Max let out a deep sigh. “He said Chris … or I guess Kessler did it, but I’m not stupid.”
Jersey stared at the table between them.
“He’s having surgery on his ear today.”
Jersey continued to stare at the table.
“He said you saved his life.”
Still no response.
“But it’s a sticky situation since it would appear you first tried to take his life. I know this. The police don’t know what to think yet, but I know. Ian’s not admitting that, just that you’re innocent. And he said you were aiming for Chris, who he now refers to as Kessler, and that’s how his ear got cut. He said Kessler’s fingerprints should be on the knife that they pulled from his leg. Is that true?”
Jersey slowly glanced up at Max, but she didn’t have any words to say—or the right ones. Max returned a disappointed frown. “They haven’t charged you with anything … yet. Isabel is here in case they do, but Ian gave them his account. If your account of the events matches his, then they’ll let you go. It’s that easy.”
“I killed Chris …” She closed her eyes and shook her head a few times. “Kessler.”
Max nodded. “I know, but who tried to kill Ian?”
“Me,” she whispered, feeling that heavy numbness settling over her body again, slowing her thoughts, echoing voices.
Max rested her elbows on the table, dropping her head and threading her fingers through her silky, black hair. “Why is he protecting you?”
“Because he is my guardian,” she murmured.
Lifting her head, Max squinted. “What do you mean?”
“My protector. My defender.”
“I know what guardian means. I just don’t know why he’s willing to lie for you. Why he’s willing to risk everything to protect you. He won’t tell me. It’s this line that no one is allowed to cross … except you. You crossed it. I just want to know what’s on the other side of it. I just want to know what I’m not seeing because your past is not filled with fancy birthday parties and trips to the carnival.”
Jersey returned a somber expression.
Max studied her for a few minutes before biting her upper lip and nodding in tiny increments. “You’re it.” She grunted a laugh, averting her eyes to the ceiling for a few seconds. “I told you he just appeared out of nowhere, landing on the world’s biggest stage with no past, seemingly no life before stardom. But you’re it.”
Returning her gaze to Jersey, Max nodded one more time, pressing a hand to her mouth. “You’re his past.” She swallowed hard, letting her hand slide from her mouth to her neck. “I once asked him if he gave you a kidney because I just couldn’t figure it out—the unwavering attachment and fierce instinct to have you by his side no matter what. I think he gave you more than a kidney.”
Jersey turned her head, focusing on a dark stain on the shiny floor, maybe spilled coffee.
Max pushed her chair back and stood. “Take the kidney, Jersey.”
Isabel stood next to Jersey as she gave her account—Ian’s account—of the events. They released her a short while later.
As soon as she exited the jail, Shane took one arm and Max took her other arm, helping her to the SUV as Jersey hobbled on her bad ankle.
“Where are we going?” Jersey asked.
“Well, I can’t take you to the hospital. There’s a big gathering of cameras and reporters around it. But you need to have that ankle checked out. Then Ian wants me to take you to the Blevins’s house until he gets out of the hospital. But I’m willing to make sure you get anywhere you want to go. A hotel. Another city or state. Another country …”
Jersey shifted her focus out the window. “You want me gone.”
“No. I want you well. If you need help, someone to talk to, I want to get that for you. I don’t know what it must feel like to be in your shoes. Do you move on like nothing happened? I honestly don’t know.”
When Jersey didn’t respond, they took her to the doctor. An x-ray revealed a small fracture, so they sent her home in a boot. Home at the moment was the Blevins’s house.
Marley’s was gone.
Her friend was gone.
She had no sense of belonging. Guilt filled her from top to bottom, overflowing with nowhere to go.
Jersey expected Lola and Foxy to greet her, but the house remained still and silent when she opened the door. Max probably had Bria, the dog sitter, come get them after Jersey tried to kill Ian.
Jesus … she was seconds away from killing him.
Jersey slowly climbed the stairs and pushed open the partially closed door to the room where Chris had slept. Blood stained the carpet, but it wasn’t beige like Dena’s carpet, it was white. And the blood wasn’t from an inexperienced social worker; it was Chris’s blood from Ian’s fists repeatedly hitting his face.