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"I mean, Dad says it's an open and shut case, I don't think you need to be there."

"Then I don't want to."

"Are you sure?”

"I think I'm done with the past, Jake. I think I just want my future.” I look at him, and he gets it. He knows what I mean. I just want him.

Chapter 51

*Mikayla*

It's been one year since my life changed. Since the people I thought I loved betrayed me, and the people I did love were taken from me.

And it’s been one year since I stood in front of my forever.

Jake and I stayed at his parent’s house over the weekend. Now we're here, at the cemetery. Red Tulips in hand for Mom’s birthday tomorrow. Jake got them. I don't know how he knew, or how he remembered it was Mom’s birthday, but he did, and it's one of the reasons I love him, so much more than a lot.

We walk hand in hand toward their headstones.

There's a lone figure standing by them, dressed in black, sunglasses on, looking down.

I don't recognize her from this far, but I'm not really in the mood to be sharing the space with anyone, so we wait.

When she turns around, I see her. But it's not really her, it’s like a shadow of who she was once. Her long blond hair now a shade of straw, cut to a bob just below her chin. She's lost weight everywhere but her belly, because her belly is huge, pregnant huge, about to give birth pregnant huge.

I squeeze Jake's hand in mine and he looks down at me.

That beautifully handsome, manly, rugged face. Those blue eyes, so intense.

"It's Megan.” I say, nodding my head in her direction.

He nods once in understanding. "I'll be in the truck.” He kisses my temple and walks away.

As I walk to her, she must sense me coming because she looks up at me, then straight back down. I think maybe she wants to leave, but she doesn't know if she should, so she waits, because either way, I know she was here, which has to mean something. Right?

I stand next to her, not looking at her, her not looking at me. We stare at the headstones.

"You’re pregnant?" I ask, because I feel like we should be talking if were going to stand here.

"Yeah,” she whispers. Her voice is hoarse, like she's been crying, or she's taken up smoking 2 packs a day.

"Where's the dad?"

"Don't know.”

"He bailed on you, huh?"

"No, Mick, I mean I don't know who the dad is.”

I clear my throat.

"What are you doing here?"

I still don't look at her.

She stares straight ahead.

"The adoptive parents live in town. I'm here until I have the baby, then I'm gone."

It's silent for a moment.

"I meant, what are you doing here at the cemetery."

"Oh,” she says quietly. "I can go." She turns to leave.

"Where were you, Megan?" I say louder, because I need to know why my best fucking friend in the whole world never bothered to contact me in the entire year my family’s been dead.

“It's been a year, where the fuck have you been?"

"I didn't think you wanted to see me."

"Shit, Megan. This shit, what happened here," I wave my hands to the headstones, "it was bigger than you and I, it was bigger than high school drama, and you cheating with James. My family were murdered and I needed my best friend. Where the fuck were you?"

I'm angry now and my words show it. I spit out each one so she knows that I'm so fricken mad at her. Tears are starting to fall down my cheeks and I don't bother to wipe them.

"I couldn’t,” she says, so quietly I almost miss it.

"You couldn't? What the hell does that mean?"

“It means, I couldn't face you, Mick. I just couldn't."

"WHY?" I yell out. I don't care about hiding my feelings anymore.

"Because Mick…” Then she breaks down into a sob and falls to her knees, pregnant belly and all.

I stay standing… and I wait.

"Because…" she continues. “Because it's my fault they’re dead."

My eyes dart to hers and my breathing accelerates.

"What does that mean, Megan?" I say through clenched teeth.

"It means I called him, I told him to do it. Chris - Christopher, I called him that night and I asked him to steal that necklace James gave you for your 18th birthday."

"What?" I can't possibly believe this shit.

"He wasn't supposed to kill them. No one was supposed to be home. I told him not to hurt anybody. Fuck Mick, you have to believe me. He wasn't supposed to hurt anybody."

I stare straight ahead, tears falling fast, my fists are balled. So many fucking questions and emotions running through my mind. I don't know what to say, what to ask. I want to kill her.

"I fooled around with him a few times, Chris I mean, I knew he would do it for me. I just… when you caught us at the restaurant, and he told you he loved you… he just discarded me like a piece of trash. He didn’t even care how I felt. I'm sorry, Mick, for all of it, for James. Fuck, I fell in love with him. I was in love with him and he didn't even care, and I was so fucking angry. I saw him first, that day we met him. You remember? He was what I wanted. You didn't even want a boyfriend and you got the best one. You didn't even want him. I did."

She says this like were 14 fucking years old. I'm so consumed with anger, and hurt and every other fucking emotion that I can't see straight. I have to keep my eyes closed so I can keep my breathing calm.

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