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Unlike the last time I talked to him, these words sound empty, as if he’s reciting them for his own benefit. He knows Alden will do no such thing. “I will. Thank you.”
It takes every ounce of self-control not to throw my phone like a pissed off toddler. We can’t catch a fucking break. This was supposed to be simple and quick. A couple of days, at most. Who knows how long it’ll take to gather and compare medical records? And what if there’s nothing there that can be used to tell them apart?
There has to be. This is not going to end with Alden in prison or permanently on the run.
The dream I had when I fainted at the news of Alden’s death comes back to me. The words he said as he sank in the rising creek water.“It works both ways, El. You can hold hope by the throat too. Never let go of it.”
That’s what I have to do. I’ll hold onto hope so tight nothing can tear it from us. Hope that we’ll find a way to prove his innocence. And if it comes down to it, I’ll run with him and become a fugitive too. Whatever happens, I won’t lose him again.
That decision gives me a little comfort, and I return to unpacking the last of Alden’s things.
Tori calls me just as it’s getting dark, and relief flows over me at the sight of her name on my phone. I’ve never needed to talk to my best friend so badly. I can’t wait to tell her about Alden and everything that’s happened.
“What the fuck is going on!” she screeches as soon as I answer. “I turned my phone on after three days to a bunch of missed calls and messages from my parents saying it’s all over the news that Oliver ran off?”
This isn’t something I’m going to tell her over the phone. “He did, but he had a good reason. Are you home?”
“A good reason? Are you serious? He’s wanted for murder! Mom said there are cops parked outside. Have you checked your social media? It’s gone crazy.”
It didn’t even occur to me that Tori’s parents are watching all of this from next door. “I don’t care what they’re saying. Can I come over? I have a lot to tell you.”
“Get over here now!”
When I pull out of my garage, there’s still a cop car parked down the street. Unmarked this time, but who do they think they’re fooling? Random people don’t park on a dead end street and sit there. The steam from the tailpipe rising in the frigid air is a solid giveaway.
I’m preoccupied with looking at them when a man runs up to my car window, calling my name. My foot slams on the brake, stopping me at the end of my driveway.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you!” he says, holding up a press badge. “I’m a journalist with The Daily Observer, and I was hoping to speak with you for a moment.”
“No thank you. I have nothing to say.”
“I can give you a chance to tell your side of the story before things get ugly,” he offers, holding out a business card.
Ignoring him, I let my foot off the brake and back my car out onto the street. He watches me drive away. I suppose I should’ve expected that. The last time our story went viral, no one wanted to interview me, but this time an accused murderer is on the loose. It’s bound to draw more media attention.
I’m zoned out on my drive to Tori’s and a little surprised when I find myself in her driveway. I hope I didn’t run any red lights. My mind is stuck on Alden and how disappointed he must be about the dental records. He didn’t expect to have to hide for a long period of time. I hate to think of him holed up somewhere, alone.
I grab Tori in a hug the moment she opens her door. She hugs me back, pulling me inside. “I can’t leave you for a fucking second. Get in here.”
We head into her kitchen, and she offers me a glass of wine. Her eyebrows leap up when I decline. “Are you sick?” she asks.
No, just knocked-up and not ready to tell anyone. “No, I want to keep a clear mind. Things are too crazy.”
She looks great. Sun-kissed cheeks, bright eyes, and— “What is this?” I screech, grabbing her hand and holding it up. A diamond wedding ring sparkles in the light.
A sheepish smile crawls across her face. “I might’ve accidentally gotten married.”
“Accidentally?” My jaw hangs open. “Were you roofied?”
Tori cracks up and shakes her head while I hold her hand up to admire the ring. “We stopped overnight in Vegas on our way back. What do you think?”
“It’s gorgeous!”
Giggles spill out of her. “I’m sorry, the look on your face.”
“Well, give me a minute for it to sink in because you once said you’d rather fuck a tiger while wearing catnip panties than get married.”
Paul’s laughter mixes with ours as he walks in. “That’s my wife.”
