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“That’s not true?” It was hard to hear this at this point, hear the audible strain in his voice. He wasn’t even looking at me now.
And the haunted look returned to his gaze.
Dorian drank more beer, visibly lost in front of me.
“That woman is a lying bitch,” he gritted. His eyes had turned into heated, dark pools. Like the grim reaper out to play. Without looking at it, he pointed toward the house. “She had plans to run away with Charlie that night. Thatch broke into Charlie’s social media account and found that shit out.” He shook his head. “My theory is Coach found out the woman had a lover and got into an argument with her about it when she tried to leave him.”
I gasped, and Dorian’s grip on his beer was pale white now.
“I was sure Coach shot without warning,” he said, his voice hollow, vacant. “And after finding out who Charlie was, killed himself.” He smiled, a dark, sad smile. “Her husband had no idea his wife would take up an affair with a kid. He thought he was simply going for the other guy that night.”
“Dorian.”
He stared at the ground. “But after seeing it was Charlie...” His eyes shifted. “Well, he hadn’t just killed the other guy. He’d killed his former player and beloved former quarterback of his team. Charlie was the town jewel. Everyone loved him.” He drank more beer. “The man was troubled, but probably not in the way Mayberry says. Before he died, Charlie told me Coach was abusive. That Coach hit her and was a bad guy. He obviously had anger issues and shit.”
He sucked back the rest of his beer, but after, he didn’t take another. I’d been glad.
“The only person who can fill in the real story is that bitch Mayberry. That coke whore, opportunist-as-fuck bitch. The woman became a drug addict after all this shit. Sits in her office sometimes and does cocaine. More than one person has seen it.”
My God.
“She preyed on Charlie, and he was so goddamn vulnerable to her,” he continued, red creeping up his neck. “He lived with my parents and me. Grew up with me as my brother after his parents, my grandparents died.” He shook his head. “He was a shell of himself after that. Never the same after that.”
He scrubbed his face, my jaw moving slowly.
“Well, can you get Mayberry to tell the truth?” I asked, probably stupid. “She shouldn’t get away with that. Maybe show someone the social media exchanges between Charlie and her. Show your parents.”
“Like I haven’t thought of that, little fighter.” He looked at me, his smile sad again. “There’s no identifiable information in the messages. She deleted her account.” He drew in a large breath, staring at the house. “She’d probably deny the whole thing. The only way to get her to tell the truth is to make her. From her lips, no one else’s.” He studied me. “We tried once. To get her to admit shit?” He smirked. “But a little fighter got—and continues—to get in the way.”
My mouth parted. “What?”
“You’re her student assistant during a prime time to approach her. Corner her and get her to do what we need to do. Us guys made plans to sneak her out during that hour and get her to confess in a remote location.”
“You mean, kidnap her?”
He opened his hands like it wasn’t a thing. “Would have worked, but it wouldn’t have had to have come to that had we gotten her during our first opportunity.” His eyebrows lowered. “Which again, a little fighter managed to fuck up too.”
He kicked his bottle onto the lawn, the thing rolling through the thick grass. I studied it, then instantly stiffened.
My gaze collided with his dusky irises, like the answers were always there. He hated me when I got here. He always said I was getting in the way, making noise.
I twitched. “You mean, the night of that mugging? Principal Mayberry’s mugging—”
“That was Wells,” he said. I thought he’d reach for a beer, but instead shoved his fingers into his hair. He brought them down to cover his mouth. “But it wasn’t his fault. I should have done the job myself. I should have gotten her myself.” He gripped his arms. “Wolf and I were preparing the location for questioning. We were going to get her on camera and get her to confess what actually happened that night.”
And I’d gotten in the way.
I made noise.
I did and continued to do so according to him. He said the failed attempt wasn’t Wells’s fault.
It was actually yours.
I couldn’t breathe as
he severed his gaze from me.
Dorian got up and stalked over to the house. “I should have done things myself with Mayberry. What happened here that night of Charlie’s murder was my fault. Charlie never even would have come here if it wasn’t for…”
