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Twenty-Three
Law’s pronouncement hit me like an avalanche. I hated Becca Riley with everything a person could hate. She’d murdered Raskolnikov, she’d ruined my life, but I didn’t want her dead. Becca was, as Law said, a victim of her circumstance.
“That bastard!” I yel
led, standing off the bed. “He did it, didn’t he? He fucking murdered her.” I paced back and forth, rubbing my hands over my hair. Why would he kill her? What did he have to gain? It didn’t matter. Morris was a cold, calculating bastard. He’d probably done it for sport.
“Nami, listen to me.” Law stood up and grabbed me by the shoulders, forcing me to focus. “She killed herself.”
“What?” Another blow landed and I let out my breath. “Are you sure? Morris could make it look like she did.”
“It’s all over the news.” Law let go of me and exhaled. It was a few good seconds before he continued. “They’re running her suicide note. In it she blamed Morris and said he raped her. I don’t think Morris did it.”
“Wow…” That…that was way too much information. I slumped into an armchair, feeling like I’d just run twenty miles. I wanted Morris to get payback, but not that way…
Never that way.
“I know.” Still standing, Law stared at the blank TV, his face a mess of emotion I couldn’t decipher. “We could turn it on, see what they’re saying.”
“Do you really want to see that?” I grimaced at the thought. I could imagine what they were saying and the freaking field day they were having with the new information. The media was like vultures. They would pick apart anything if they thought it would feed their viewers.
“No.” Sitting back on the bed, Law put his head in his hands.
“Hey.” I walked over to Law and lightly touched his shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“This is my fault,” he said. “I should have gotten her out when I had the chance. I’m a fucking selfish asshole.”
“This is not your fault.” Just like Law had done with me, I had to make him see he wasn’t responsible. “Becca Riley was a fucked up person and that has nothing to do with you.”
“You don’t know, Nami.” Law took his head out of his hands and turned to me. “Two years ago you wouldn’t have recognized her. She was…” Law shook his head. “I ruined her. I’m a fucker.”
“Did you force her to do any of it?” I pressed.
“No,” Law conceded.
“Then it was her choice and you can’t take responsibility for that.” Law nodded, but the sentiment was hollow. It would take a while for him to realize he wasn’t responsible, and I knew a little about that.
I linked my arm in his and followed his gaze out the window to the cold twinkling lights of Salt Lake City. From our perch, the lights were anonymous, just like from the plane. It was easy to pretend that they were stardust, not people picking apart Becca Riley’s death.
Becca’s death had, well, kind of killed the mood. Since we hadn’t eaten anything since the plane ride home from Boston, we decided to go out and get dinner. We entered the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby, the ride down much less exciting than the ride up had been. We held each other for comfort this time, not lust. When the doors dinged open, neither of us expected what lay on the other side.
Reporters swarmed us. Lightbulbs flashed. Questions flew. It was complete and utter chaos.
“How did they find me?” I asked Law. He shook his head, trying to block me from the swarm. There were no rules in a situation like that. The reporters didn’t ask nicely. They didn’t care if they hurt you trying to get a photo. All bets were off.
“Miss DeGrace what do you have to say about the recent allegations?” I shoved the nosy reporter aside as Law and I made our way to his car. Just as I made space to move, another one popped up.
“In light of Becca Riley’s suicide, are you going to ask the police to reopen your case?”
“No comment,” I growled. I slammed the car door shut, wishing I could slam it on their fingers. Before all of this had happened, I hadn’t been a violent person. I was actually quite a pacifist. Shit, I’d studied peace & conflict for fucks sake. Now, I carried a gun and envisioned slamming car doors on people. My mind jumped to Becca. It hadn’t even been a year and I could feel myself molding to fit my environment. She’d had years of it. No wonder she had become the monster she was.
Law wove in and out of the reporters. They chased the car, not caring if they hurt themselves in the process. Their bulbs flashed against the window, the bright lights like dying stars. When we finally pulled into The Bell Jar it felt like we’d been through a war.
“Did they follow us?” I asked Law as I stepped out of the door he’d opened for me. Law glanced down the street. It wasn’t empty, seeing as it was just about dinnertime, but there wasn’t a swarm of story-hungry reporters there either.
“I don’t think so.” Law’s voice was heavy as he shut the door behind me. Together we walked into The Bell Jar and we seated ourselves just like the first time we’d come. Unlike the first time, though, I wasn’t thinking of ways to leave. He had been a mystery then and I hadn’t trusted him.
There were still parts of Law that were a mystery to me, though, and maybe there always would be. Law was not the kind of person you got to know over dates and movies. Like diamond, Law was revealed through challenging circumstance. At first he appeared black and callous, but as you got to know him you saw what he truly was: sparkling, tough, and unbreakable. Law was one of a kind.
