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I hold his gaze for a good five seconds before reminding him of my lawyer’s name.
“Why not Braelynn? She’s a rat too.” Angino says and I stiffen. I didn’t know I could feel anger like this. With my brothers it’s different. It’s a fear, a sadness even. When the cops come for Braelynn though, all I feel is rage.
I swallow so fucking loud I know both of them can hear it. I’ve been in this room maybe twice. This specific room with my ass in this same uncomfortable chair.
I’ve been in other interrogation rooms maybe a dozen times, I’ve lost track. It was more often when we were younger.
I never gave enough of a fuck to give a reaction. Not until just now. It registers in their expression that just mentioning her name gets to me. There’s an uptick in his asymmetric grin that confirms my intuition.
“My lawyer,” I speak calmly and evenly although my pulse races in my ears.
Every inch of my skin singes and my muscles are coiled. Leave her alone. Leave her the fuck alone. Every time they mention her name, I’m all too aware I’m barely holding it together. I say nothing. Not a damn word as they press for more.
“We told her about Hart and…what was the other guy called?” The one asks the other and my throat dries out. He chuckles as I stare back at him.
Again, I give them nothing. Not a damn thing as they rattle on about how she’s turning on me. How she knows I lied to her. How she almost killed herself because of me.
I hate them. I hate how much of the truth they know. The clock ticks and my blood pressure rises.
“I have your men under oath testifying that you killed two men to cover for your rat girlfriend.”
Anger unfurls inside of me in a way it never has. How dare they use that word with her name.Rat. The back of my teeth clench so hard they nearly break. Everything in me is exhausted and sore, everything dying to let it all out.
More importantly, betrayal ripples through me. Who did it? Who dared to call her a rat? I have no way of knowing if it’s even true but in the pit of my stomach…I believe it is and it kills me. All of this is like a knife to my throat, as I slowly bleed out.
“They said you know she’s a rat.”
They poke-poke-poke, hoping for a reaction. They’ve certainly earned one but it will take time before I can follow through with recourse.
As my blood pounds in my ears, it takes everything in me not to say a damn word.
“They said she must be a good lay for you to turn on your brothers for her.”
Just as I nearly snap and tell him to shut the fuck up and leave her alone, the door slams open.
“This ends now.” My lawyer’s voice is firm, firmer than normal. I’m all too aware that nothing about what has happened this weekend is normal. I swallow down every emotion, waiting for my lawyer to tell me to get up and follow him out. Just as he has every other time.
This time feels different though. It’s heavier…
“We have forty-eight hours to hold–”
“You have a complaint filed against both of you on behalf of several of my clients,” McHale says sternly and that gets my attention. It’s more than obvious that someone has changed the rules of the game, and we’re only just now catching on to that. My lawyer’s gaze never reaches mine. In a cold tone he adds, “I assume you’re done here?”
BRAELYNN
Michael McHale is kind on the surface, professional and quiet. He turns the heat up in his car, a top-of-the-line Lexus, but my body stays numb and shivers run down my spine. My throat is thick with shame and a confusion I can’t seem to shake loose. Outside the car, everything blurs and time passes too quickly; there are streetlights every so often. Blocks go by in darkness. Some houses have lights on, and I wonder about all those people living different lives. People lie to each other all the time, which is to be expected.
Declan wasn’t supposed to lie to me.
If there’s real love there, if he truly loves me, then why does he lie to me?
I’m glad to be away from the jail, but all too soon the lawyer pulls into the driveway in front of the house and I’m reminded of the fear.
“I’ll help you out.” A protest nearly rises to my lips. Somehow it seems like it would be better if he just drove me around until I could figure things out. I don’t trust any of my own thoughts though. I don’t know what’s real or what’s going to happen to me when I step through those doors.
There’s no way to figure it out without speaking to Declan, though. I’ve faced worse things than a conversation, but it feels like the ground has been forcibly moved under my feet.
I wouldn’t mind falling asleep in the car and waking up where nobody knew my name, and all the secrets and lies were far behind me. I wouldn’t mind if I forgot it all. Every reason I had to just jump. To start over. My head falls back as I try to remove that thought. I don’t want to die. I turn my gaze back to the house, but I also don’t know that I want to go back. I’m trapped and I don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore.
