I shouldn’t have been so impulsive. Emotions always get in the way of common sense. It was emotion that probably got me into this position in the first place.
Rage carried me to the police station the night of Robbie’s death.
Stubborn indignation made me defy my mother.
Righteous anger made me squeal on Ivan.
Fear made me push Mr. Adler.
And desperation made me kiss Trey.
I close my eyes and wince, reliving the moment from the outside.
My face was on TV today! I’ve been accused of murder and there’s a price on my head. I should be burying myself in an underground bunker, but no, I decide the best approach to this new revelation is to kiss the guy I’m lusting after!
“You’re such an idiot,” I mutter into the darkness.
Rybeck will be livid if he ever finds out. I wonder what he thinks of the news reports this afternoon. He and McNeal are probably buzzing around trying to squash it. I want to call and yell at both of them.
He knew something when he came in acting like my irate father. What’s the bet the Candellas have been making life difficult for everyone.
I don’t understand why they think Sorrentinos are so bad.
Well, except for Marco Sorrentino—the devil himself.
But why me?
Why would I kill Robbie? And why was hanging out with Robbie such a bad thing?
I don’t even know who the Candellas are! His last name could have been Frogsbottom and I still would have hung out with him.
I’d be stupid not to wonder if it had something to do with Robbie’s death though. Did Marco have a grudge against Robbie’s family? One that ran so deep he decided to off a Candella just to make a point?
And why can’t the Candellas just be satisfied that one Sorrentino will be going down for the crime? Why go after me?
I swallow.
I thought my biggest problem was my uncle, but now I’ve got a raging family to contend with too.
Shit! My dad will now know that I was with Robbie the night I ran away. He’ll put two and two together. He might try and deny it but he won’t be able to.
How the hell did the Candellas figure out Robbie and I were together that night? We were so careful to keep our date a secret, and we didn’t even understand why. It was like instinct warning us to keep things under wraps.
But of course Uncle Marco had to find out.
Wait. Was he following me?
I rub my aching head. Questions keep pummeling me and I can’t answer any of them.
Whether my uncle was following me or not, he will never admit to what he did…what I saw. My father will kill him if he jumps on the Candellas’ bandwagon though. I’m his precious daughter; surely I’d beat out his evil little brother. Dad wouldn’t want me testifying against Marco, but he’d never accuse me of murder either.
So, the devil’s only option is to get rid of me before I testify.
Mom’s reaction when I busted in the door that night told me Marco was a killer. He’ll have no qualms about taking out the witness who could put him behind bars.
Even though I’ve been accused on TV, it doesn’t change the facts. My testimony could bury him…and once the Candellas hear what I have to say, they’ll know I’d never do anything to harm their son.
No, my biggest threat will always be the devil.
He’ll want to find me without my father knowing, make me disappear.
Mom will be too afraid to speak out.
I’ll become a ghost.
Tears burn again, warning me that I’m not going to sleep tonight. My mind is too busy. Too scattered, jumping from death to kisses. My emotions ping like a pinball, hitting each nerve as it travels down my body.
Scrubbing my cheeks, I sit up and fling the covers aside. I’m cold and restless.
I need to yell at Rybeck.
It’s stupid, but I shove my freezing toes into my clompy boots and grab a sweater. Pulling it over my head, I creep out of the room. Without my flashlight, I stumble three times on the stairs and nearly turn the wrong way when I’m exiting the building.
The wind stings my cheeks, making me shiver. My teeth start to chatter as I dash across the open space, then disappear into the shadows. Shuffling along the path, I wind my way to the darkness until that ripe smell hits me and I know I’m nearly there.
I wrestle the rusty lock open and squeeze into the shed. I have to grope around for a few minutes to unearth the phone, but finally I yank it free, drop it, and then have to pat the dusty floor until I have it back in my grasp. The screen lights up and I start punching in numbers.
“Rybeck.” His voice is groggy, but it’s enough to spark my anger.
“You knew, you son of a bitch. No wonder you want to imprison me over Thanksgiving! Every man and his dog is probably looking for me now!”
Rybeck sighs, his voice heavy. “Are you alone?”