Violet looks me over from head to toe. She heard. She knows I’m betraying her. “No, I’m good.” Her lips lift as she jacks her thumb over her shoulder. “You ready?”
My gut twists at the smile. Maybe she didn’t hear, but then again, maybe she did. Either way, we won’t be able to talk about it until later tonight. After school, after the lineup, after all the other people fade away. Question is, can I lose her in that amount of time?
“Yeah, I’m ready to roll.”
Violet
I WIPE MY COLD, clammy hands against my jeans and drop into the nearest chair in the conference room the detective pointed me toward. Mom, Cyrus and Eli pulled me and Chevy out of school early and brought us to the police station in Louisville. It’s Thursday and we’re here to identify the men who kidnapped us.
No sweat, right? Nothing bad will happen from fingering the bastards who kidnapped and tortured us. Of course I should believe what the Riot are telling the Terror. The Riot are one million percent behind us prosecuting, in theory, ex-members of their club.
Yep, easy peasey lemon squeezy.
Doesn’t help I found another note this morning in my leather jacket.
Heard after the lineup you’ll be heading home. You know what to do once you get there. We don’t believe it should take you long.
Whoever is watching me is on the inside of the club as Eli isn’t overly talking to people about me heading home and that means I’m doubly screwed. There’s no trusting the club. There’s no way to ignore the Riot. There’s no way to survive this situation intact.
Tonight, I’ll go home, wait for Mom to fall asleep and then I’ll search through Dad’s computer and dig through old files to find account numbers that will secure my family’s safety and Eli’s place in hell. God, I want to vomit.
Chevy enters the room and sits beside me in one of the chairs against the wall. He’s cool and calm and collected as always. In this moment, I find his demeanor infuriating as I feel like I’m about to spontaneously combust into a ball of fire.
“You okay?” he asks low enough so only I can hear.
“Peachy,” I answer, and his body shakes with his short chuckle.
I don’t know how to handle or what to think of Chevy. I overheard the tail end of his conversation with Cyrus. Some words I could understand, others I couldn’t, but from what I gathered, Chevy plans on getting me to talk and then selling me out.
I should be mad. I should be furious, but I can’t find the strength for so much anger. He’s lying to me. I’m lying to him. I figure that makes us even.
The police station isn’t really as crazy as I thought it would be. It’s rather calm. Lots of random people and police officers at desks in half-walled cubicles. I assumed it would be like TV and there’d be people handcuffed to chairs and yelling obscenities. Maybe that happens in another part of the building.
Everyone’s been nice. Offering us something to drink, explaining what will happen when the lineup starts, telling me that I look like I’m about to pass out and it’s okay to sit. You know, nice.
“What if we do this and the Riot change their minds on being cool about us fingering Fiend and his friends?” I ask. “What if they’re lying and they come after us again? What if Fiend gets out of jail and seeks revenge for what we’re about to do?”
What if I don’t find those account numbers? What if I do and Eli goes to jail for something he never did? What if an asteroid comes hurtling out of the sky and busts into hundreds of little pieces and hits each and every single member of the Riot?
I roll my bracelets around my wrist. Chevy places his hand over mine, lifts our combined hands, waves his other hand in a circle, and when he flips his palm over, my silver bracelet, the one he gave me for my sixteenth birthday, is in his hand.
Complete awe. Never felt him remove the bracelet. Doesn’t matter how many times he does this, I’m dazzled.
Chevy flips my bracelet around until I see the inside inscription. Forever. My heart lifts, then sinks. At sixteen, I had believed the two of us were forever. He waves his other hand over the bracelet, claps, and then the bracelet is back on my wrist again.
“Is that your way of saying everything’s okay?” I ask.
“It’s my way of saying I’m right here beside you and that’s where I plan on staying.”
A tightness in my chest and I clear my throat to gain some control. “You could make a million dollars in Vegas.”
“Nah, wouldn’t happen. I don’t know how to put people back together once I saw them in half.”
I giggle, a little too loudly for the situation, and a guy in uniform passing the room we’re in gives us a disapproving glare. Eli, Cyrus and Mom went off to talk to two men in white button-down shirts and ties. Once again, making decisions and choices for me. “Where’s your mom?”
“She has to work. She’s taken off too much time and needs the money. She’s pissed she’s not here, but I told her it’s not a big deal.”
“Nope. Not a big deal at all,” I murmur.
He bumps his knee into mine. “You want me to do this?”
“You are doing this, hence why you’re sitting here next to me.”
“No, do you want me to do this for the both of us? In the end, only one of us needs to point them out.”
“I’m sure the boys in the white shirts will be happy with that. I believe their words were something about a stronger case with both of us pointing fingers.”
“Ask me if I fucking care.” The unusual harshness in his tone grabs my full attention. “Their happiness isn’t my problem.”
“Then what is your problem?”
He runs a hand over his head, kicks out his legs and stares straight out into the room. “Anything that bothers you.”
I continue to watch him. He knows it, and from the way he stays still, he doesn’t like it. Yes, Chevy knows me, but I know him just as well. Chevy’s smooth, a trickster, and has a way of bringing things up without anyone else really understanding the underlying conversation. I rode with him in the truck on the way here and he was quiet. Mom was with us, but still he was too silent.
“Did something happen?” I ask. “More football problems?”
“I’ll tell you if you tell me why you were wound so tight to return home and don’t give me the bullshit on freedom. I know you, Violet, and you’re hiding something.”
And there it is. Chevy played his cards and played them well. Waited for the moment when I’m too frayed to lie well.
“It is about freedom,” I hedge.
“But that’s not all. There’s more and you’re keeping it to yourself.”
He’s right, he’s aware he’s right and now I’m the one who’s quiet.
“Someday, I hope you’ll trust me again,” he says softly.
I flinch. His words a knife straight into my windpipe and I can’t breathe.
“Mr. McKinley?” With a file in hand, one of the officers working our case appears in the doorway. “Will you please follow me?”
The officer leaves, Chevy rises to his feet, and before he walks out, I blurt, “Be careful.”