I shake my head at her and take a step toward the door. “Let me through.”
She arches a brow and doesn’t move. “You’re going to make yourself miserable by reading all those.”
“I don’t care,” I snap. “I’ll just go turn myself in.”
“And you really think they’re going to believe you? Thatyoukilled a man who was twice your size? Noah wasthere.I read the letters. He saw the whole thing, and quite frankly,” she pauses,glaring at me, “It only makes me more convinced that I raised a monster.”
Every ounce of me wants to come unglued on her, andshowher exactly that, but honestly, I’d rather her just rot away in her own fucking misery. So, I just shove past her, knocking her off balance.
“You bitch!” My mom screams, as I leave her planted in the middle of the hallway. I head straight for the front door, whipping it open, the box of letters still under my arm.
Bullet prances along beside me, and I head for my car, fishing the key fob out of my pocket. My mind is already running a hundred miles an hour, as the harsh winds whips through my thin sweater, the moonlight glinting against the metal of my SUV.
I rip the driver’s side door open, and climb in after Bullet hops in, starting the engine to keep from freezing my ass off. I kick the heater all the way up, and fish through the letters until I find the very first one, postmarked almost a decade ago. I tear through the envelope on accident and then unfold it.
Rue,
I don’t know if you remember me. I want to believe that you do, but I’m not sure. So, I’m just going to cut to the chase. I’m the kid that lived next door to you for the first eleven years of your life. We used to be really good friends. I told you everything about myself, except my first name… Thomas. That was my father’s, and if there was one thing I didn’t want from him back then, it was his damned name.
He was an abusive asshole, and I shared the external bruises with you, but I never shared the internal ones. Those were the long lasting kind… The kind that lasts a lifetime, takes you down paths you don’t really understand, and ultimately leads you to places just like this. Prison.
Speaking of – Matthew Zendetti was your fiancé, yeah? Well, I just got sentenced to ‘life without the possibility of parole’ for murdering him.
Your dad is the main reason I’m here, but I think you know that. I think you know a lot of things… Like who really killed Matthew. I didn’t write you before trial, because I thought it would be better if I didn’t. I didn’t want to implicate you. It’s all over now.
But still, there’s only three people who really know the truth about what happened that night. You, Matthew, and me. I was coming to collect a debt, probably just beat him up pretty bad. He tried to give us your dad’s truck to pay it off, but there was nothing we could do with it.
You knew that, didn’t you?
I saw you on the dock with him that night. I saw you arguing, and I saw the hatred in your face when you yelled at him. Why were you with him, if you hated him? Maybe you can answer that. Maybe I misread the look on your face. I don’t know.
But I saw you rip that ring off and throw it in the lake. I saw the way he grabbed you. I saw all that anger shift to fear as he shook you, and screamed in your face, your eyes wide. I started coming for you then. I wouldn’t have let him get far.
But you beat me, you pulled out something, and started stabbing him. It was wild and gory, and unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. My heart broke for you, and all the pain that escaped your lips as you sobbed and screamed.
You shoved him in the lake.
And I watched you. I watched you fall to your knees. I listened to you cry. You hugged your dog. I wanted to hug you.
But you didn’t recognize me when I showed up to Matthew’s cabin a few nights before. We made eye contact, and all I sawwas the same fear that you had when you stabbed Matthew to death…
And I didn’t want you to feel that anymore than you already were.
I’m glad I’m here, and not you. I would’ve done the same thing you did, if I would’ve gotten there in time. I don’t mind taking the fall. I don’t mind living the rest of my life here… But… Can we talk? Can you tell me how you went from the happy go-lucky little girl Rue to the woman I saw that night?
I’ve always wanted to make my way back to you. But I wasn’t good enough for someone like you.
I don’t want your everlasting love, like I dreamed of as a kid. You don’t need a man who’s got a life sentence. Maybe if I was out, it’d be different. But honestly, I just wonder if maybe there’s something in those woods that made us both this way. Still, those were the best days of my life.
Yours Truly,
Noah
I stare at his name, scribbled across the bottom of the paper. Tears blur my vision as I fold the letter back, and shove it back in the envelope. I sift through the remaining letters until I find the most recent one…
Dated one fucking month ago.
I tear it open and furrow my brow at the one slip of paper with a single line.
