Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
We aren’t a hugging family—we’ve barely been a prolonged-period-in-the-same-room family for the last several years—but in the interest of reconciliation, I get up and give him an awkward one-armed hug.
“Thanks for coming,” I say gruffly. “It means a lot.”
“Of course.” The hug is uncomfortable for both of us, out of practice as we are. Still, it’s progress. “Anything you need, I’m always here. You too, RJ.” Dad grabs his jacket and slips it on. “Okay, I’ll get out of your hair. Anything you think of, give me a call. We’ll see you on Thanksgiving.” He stops at the door. “Oh, and I do expect both of you to join us for a family trip over the holidays. Michelle’s not taking no for an answer.”
I roll my eyes, because of course he’d use this ordeal as a bargaining chip on the dreaded Christmas vacation.
“Yeah, okay,” I groan. “But this is blackmail, you know.”
“Tell her to go easy on the mother-son pedicures,” RJ interjects. “And we get our own room.”
Satisfied, Dad nods. “Good. Talk soon.”
There’s a learning curve to this for all of us. We’re a bunch of loners trying to figure out how to live with one another. How to make something new out of bits and pieces of our old lives. I have a feeling it’s bound to get messy, but I guess it’s past time we stop resisting the inevitable. We’re a family now. Come hell or high water.
“So that’s something.” RJ carries his breakfast to the coffee table to sit beside me on the sofa. “What do you think happened?”
“No idea. Maybe it’s like he said. They didn’t want the negative attention?”
“Somehow I doubt it.”
As if spinning our wheels manifested it, there’s a soft knock on our door. RJ quickly hops up to answer it.
“Hey. Is Fenn here?”
Casey.
My heart stops at the sound of her voice.
I leap to my feet, peering over RJ’s shoulder to find her giving me a tentative smile. She texted yesterday asking if I was okay and if there were any updates, so I guess Sloane relayed to her that I’d turned myself in. It took all my willpower not to call her, to turn to her for comfort and hear her say that everything was going to be all right.
I resisted that urge because it’s time to stop dragging Casey Tresscott into all my messes. She doesn’t deserve the turmoil, the uncertainties. I meant every word when I told her I had to walk away from her. I’ve already caused so much damage in her life, broken off pieces of her innocence one by one. I’d never be able to live with myself if I hurt her again.
And yet here she is on my doorstep, those blue eyes full of concern for me.
“Can we talk alone?” she asks.
RJ looks to me for an answer, noting my slight nod before he holds the door open to let her in. “No sweat.”
A second later he’s gone, silently shutting the door behind him.
I’m suddenly terrified to be in a room with her. Embarrassed for what I’ve done to her and still feeling my own fresh wounds. Overwhelmed by the history between us, yet also the sense we’ve become strangers, two people who’ve forgotten how to talk to each other.
She smooths out the front of her purple sweatshirt, the oversized one she likes to pair with black leggings. It’s one of my favorite outfits. Cute and unassuming and so perfectly Casey.
“You probably don’t want to see me, I know, but this felt like something I had to say in person.”
“Why aren’t you at school?”
She shrugs. “The answer to that is related to what I came here to say.”
“Okay,” I say awkwardly.
I sit on the edge of my bed and nod to invite her over. Seems rude somehow to have a heart-to-heart over a half-eaten sausage-and-egg sandwich.
“I just got back from the police station.”
My gaze flies to hers. “What? Why?”
“The lead detective who worked my case—Carillo? He’s the one with the forehead mole and the terrible haircut?”
I snicker. “Yeah. I know who you mean.”
“He called early this morning and asked us to come into the station. Me and my dad. So we drove out there and sat down with Carillo and the police chief—can’t remember his name. They asked me a bunch of questions about you and Gabe and prom night.”
“Yeah. I figured that would happen. What did you tell them?”
“Exactly what I told them last time. We went over what I remember—and what I don’t remember. I told them about the flash of memory I had about offering someone a ride and how they may have been wearing pink, but they sort of brushed it off.”
Anger tightens my chest. Would it kill these assholes to take this case seriously? A girl almost died, for fuck’s sake.
Casey sees my frustration and nods. “Trust me, I know. They’re basically useless. Anyway, they listed all the charges against you and said they wanted to discuss the next steps with us.”