“So, that’s it?” I ask.
“That’s it.” Her lips purse. “But I will say this. I had two alleged victims, a witness, and a perpetrator, and I don’t believe I got the truth from any of the four of you. I don’t know what’s going on between you and Addaline Grace, Marcus, but tread lightly.”
I stand and start toward the door, hoping we’re done. When she stands and follows, I breathe a sigh of relief.
“By the way, I saw the DA is pressing charges against Nathan Collins. It took a lot of courage for your sister to come forward like that. How is she doing?”
I yank the door open. “She’s doing great thanks to the guy you sent to jail for statutory rape against her. Remember him? Her husband, Caiden Brenner? He’s the reason she came forward. He’s the one who’s put her back together.”
Her gaze is unwavering. “My job, Mr. Leon, is to protect the innocent from sexual predators. A twenty-five-year-old man caught having sexual intercourse in a public library with a seventeen-year-old will always be a sexual predator in my eyes. In Blaire’s case, I’m very glad everything’s worked out, but that’s not the norm.”
“Yep,” I say with a sharp nod. “It did. But it was a long road after she was raped. Might not have happened if you hadn’t sent the guy who would have protected her to jail.”
“That’s hardly fair,” she says, all righteous indignation. “We do the best we can, and most of the time it’s the bad guy who goes to jail, not the good one.”
“All I’m saying is that one-size-fits-all justice doesn’t work. No one asked Blaire if she wanted to press charges.”
“It was a criminal case. Not her call.”
“Well, it was the wrong call, whoever made it,” I counter.
“We’ll just have to agree to disagree on this, Marcus,” she says, passing through the door. “But tell your sister I say hello next time you talk to her.”
I close the door behind her without responding, then drop onto the couch and hold my head. Because the only person I want to tell about this is the one person I can’t find.
I know I’m taking my life into my hands going to Blaire’s on New Year’s Eve. Any normal day her neighborhood is dangerous enough. But as I dodge drunks and crackheads on my way to the door, I wonder again how they’ve been in this apartment for three years and lived to tell about it.
When Blaire invited me for New Year’s Eve, I told her no. I’m totally not up for a party. But, as usual, I’m putty in my sister’s hands, so, against my better judgment, here I am.
I press the buzzer and Blaire rings me up. I take the stairs two at a time and knock on their second story door.
When it swings open, the doorway is empty and the room is dimly lit with candles.
“What’s going on?” I say, stepping through.
The door closes behind me and when I turn, what I see steals my breath.
“Hi,” Addie says, stepping toward me.
For several beats of my racing heart, all I can do is stare.
An unsure squint pulls at her face. “Marcus?” she asks, the waver of nerves clear in her voice.
I stride toward her and pull her against me. “Jesus fucking Christ.” I bury my face in the crown of her hair and fight the press of tears behind my eyes. “I didn’t know if I was going to see you again.”
Her breath comes out shaky with her own tears. “I couldn’t be the reason they sent you to jail.”
“It’s over,” I say, crushing her so tightly against me I feel her ribs pop.
“Not yet. I’m not eighteen,” she says, her arms crushing me just as hard.
I can’t stop the laugh. “I think we can dodge the law for six days.”
She looks up at me, her eyes all concern. “What about your job?”
“That’s not going to be an issue.”
“What do you mean?”
“The day after the charges were dropped, the school board went all vigilante on my ass and canned me.”
She shoves back from me, all righteous indignation, and it makes me smile to see her fire isn’t extinguished. “That’s bullshit!”
“Is it?” I say, raising my eyebrows at her. “I did have inappropriate contact with a student.”
“But you didn’t do anything wrong. I wanted you to have inappropriate contact with me.”
“It’s really okay,” I reassure her. “This way it’s quiet. I can’t use them as a reference, but I can still apply for teaching jobs. So, really, the only obstacle left is your father.”
Her eyes widen, but then she takes a deep breath and all her nerves seem to still. “He just asked me what I wanted for my birthday. I know the answer.”
I grin. “You sure you don’t want to go for the car?”
She gives me a scheming smile and tugs me back to her by my jacket. “What can a car do for me that you can’t?”