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“I know that, Gavin. You don’t even have to ask me that.”
I close my eyes. I’ve seen the looks I got when I was led into the police station. I saw the looks I got from the students as I was escorted out. Hell, I saw the looks the principal gave me, and his secretary. I saw them all. There’s not one person in this town that believes I’m innocent…
“Promise me, Babe. Promise me you believe me.”
“I believe you, Gavin. You didn’t do this.”
“Times up, Lodge,” the deputy says from his corner, his face cold.
“I gotta go, Luna.”
“Gavin, no. Don’t go. Tell me what I can do to help. Tell me—”
“I’ll be okay. I love you, Moonbeam.”
I hang up and that poison in the pit of my stomach churns. I’ve been through a lot of shit in my lifetime. You’d think I could handle anything, but right now I feel fear. I have from the first moment they brought me in.
They won’t even tell me why they suspect me, they keep asking me the same questions over and over. I’ve got a bad feeling it doesn’t matter what I answer. Their mind is made up and all the people they’ve talked to is only helping them.
I close my eyes and immediately a picture of Roy Lodge’s cold smile flashes in my mind.
I’m fucked…
Chapter Fifty Nine
Luna
This could go bad.
Really bad.
I’m desperate though. There’s nothing else I can do. Gavin has been locked up for three weeks. He had a damn arraignment and Atticus said they set his bond at one-hundred thousand dollars. They say that is low when compared to what he was charged with, but that doesn’t matter. It might as well have been a hundred dollars. Gavin doesn’t have that kind of money and there’s no way his father is going to help him. Roy Lodge is the star witness for the prosecution. Gavin’s picture has been in every newspaper in Maine. His face on the news—even the national news. I’ve begged my parents to help and that wasn’t easy. Talking to my dad and asking him for anything right now was hard, but he won’t listen. They’ve been keeping me locked up too. I can’t leave the house. Mom or Dad take me to school and pick me up. It appears they can hate each other, but the one thing they can agree on is holding me hostage.
It doesn’t just end with them either. I’m a prisoner at school, too. The principal seems to constantly follow me around while I’m there. If he doesn’t, then the vice-principal or his secretary does. There hasn’t been one chance to sneak away.
Not one.
I might as well be locked up with Gavin at this point and considering I stole my mother’s car while she was in the shower, I probably will be. I had to though. This is the first chance I’ve had. Usually her and Dad tag team, so one or the other watches me constantly and if it’s only one of them, they literally lock my door. Dad had the locks changed so it locked from the outside.
It’s ridiculous.
Today, though, Mom slipped up. I played hooky from school and because she felt bad that I was sick, when she took her morning shower, she left my door unlocked in case I needed to run to the bathroom in the hall. The minute I heard the shower turn on, I bolted. I had spied Mom’s keys lying on the counter, when I came down under the guise of getting some ginger ale for my stomach. Lady luck continued to be on my side when they were still there. I grabbed them, then sprinted to the garage.
I’m sure Mom has discovered the clump under the covers of my bed is not me by now. She may have even discovered that her car is gone. I figure the worst she can do is call the police and since I’m headed there, I don’t really care.
At this point, I’m so mad at my parents that I don’t care what they think or how they react to anything. I’ve been screaming at them for weeks that Gavin is innocent. I told them there was no way he could have killed Jules. They either think I’m lying, or they don’t care.
I’m starting to believe it’s a combination of both.
Still, I know I can save Gavin and since no one else is even trying to, I have to do this.
I park the car on the street, my hands tightening on the steering wheel so hard that my fingers go white from the pressure. I’m a nervous wreck.
What if they don’t believe me? What if they don’t even bother to check my story?
I hold my head down against the wheel and calm my churning stomach. I wasn’t exactly lying to Mom. I’ve been sick for two days. I can’t keep anything down. I know it’s stress. Stress and pain. If Mom and I were talking, maybe I would have handled all of this differently. Only we’re not talking. I feel like she’s let me down too. She didn’t even let me go to Jules’ memorial service.
