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For me.
My mind wheels and spins, trying to think my way out of this.
"I've already identified you," I say, voice shaking but firm. "The sheriff has photos of you and Silar fleeing the scene. Don't make it worse for yourself and throw away any hope of leniency."
"He found the camera?" Troy asks, his voice soft. Something almost like relief washes through his obsidian eyes. "That's good. I was worried he wouldn't."
I stare at him, uncertain.
He reads my confusion and smiles…attempts to smile. It's more of a grimace than anything. "You think I looked directly at that camera by accident?"
"Isn't that usually what happens?" I bite my lip as soon as the sarcastic response lands between us. Jeez. Why can't I ever just quit while I'm ahead?
Troy's lips curve into the semblance of a smile. "Point taken," he murmurs. "But I wanted to be caught."
"Why?" I demand, not sure I believe him. Not sure what to believe at this point. Why in the world would anyone want to get caught committing a felony?
"I wasn't supposed to be there in the first place." He lifts his hand, making me jump slightly. He notices but doesn't comment. He simply drops it back to his side. "Silar and I were friends a long time ago. We were not good kids. I got my shit together. He didn't. But before I got my shit together, I did some things I'm not proud of. Silar knows everything. He was there for all of it."
Where is Giant? Surely he's done peeing by now. I desperately want to look toward the hall to see if he's got a plan, but I don't. If Troy doesn't know he's here, I don't want to tip him off.
"So you felt like you owed it to him to break into the shop?" I ask, trying to keep him talking.
"Fuck no," he growls. "He came to me and said he needed help with something. I refused, but he threatened to release some very unfortunate photos." Troy sighs. "I agreed to go with him to get the goddamn photos back. I didn't know he had a gun until he tried to shoot you."
"So, what? You decided to look at the camera and hope you got caught to ease your conscience?" I ask. "You committed a felony, Troy."
"Believe me, I'm aware. But I didn't fucking sign up to shoot at anyone. If he's willing to kill you, what do you think he's willing to do to me?" he asks, one brow arched. "I'll take my chances with the law."
"Then why hide?"
"The photos," he mutters. "Silar wouldn't hand them over unless I skipped town with him. I think he knew I'd go straight to Dillon. I laid low with him until I got my hands on the photos, and then I bounced."
I eye him, not sure if I believe him or not. People do stupid things all the time, but this is an entirely new level of stupid. "What was in the photos?"
He presses his lips together, refusing to tell me…which is answer enough, I suppose. Whatever was in them is bad. Bad enough to make a felony like this seem like a viable alternative. I'm not sure I want to know the particulars. Men with money tend to think they can do whatever they want to whoever they want. It's disgusting.
Troy isn't a hero. He isn't a good guy, either. He's just one who hasn't learned yet that there is no atonement for some things. He's here because he thinks it balances the cosmic scale. It doesn't. Throwing himself at my mercy won't absolve him of whatever guilt he carries for what he did back then. It won't make him sleep better at night.
"If what you say is true, you need to tell the sheriff."
"I know." He blows out a breath. "I just wanted to talk to you first."
"You want me to plead your case."
He shrugs almost bashfully. He isn't bashful though. It's an act, one he's perfected in his life. If you're charming enough, people do what you want. Unfortunately for him, I'm not easily charmed.
"What was in the photos, Troy?"
"It doesn't matter. It was a long time ago."
"Will it matter to the girl in the photos?" I ask quietly.
He flinches, and I know I'm right. My stomach turns.
"Plead your own case," I say, disgusted. I'm not helping him. He doesn't deserve it.
"Aspen, please." He takes a step toward me.
