Wicked Innocence (Wicked Innocence 1)

Fuck me.

Halfway down the third page of results, I saw it.

‘Eight charged over murder of 11-year-old boy over a pair of new shoes.’

“Bingo,” I muttered, clicking on the link.

Eight boys, some as young as eleven, have been charged with the murder of 11-year-old Peter Hale who was fatally beaten for his shoes on his way home from the mall.

Witnesses called an ambulance, but the victim could not be revived. He suffered a fatal blow to his spleen, as well as three fractured ribs and a broken pelvis.

The victim and his 14-year-old sister were in state care when the incident happened. This is the fourth incident this year resulting in the death of a child while in state care. A spokesperson for child services said that while the incident is being investigated, preliminary reports suggest the caregiver was not guilty of any wrongdoing.

I sat back and groaned as I ran my hands through my hair. It was right there in black and white: she was seventeen. She’d lied to me. Who knew what her reasons were? Maybe she just wanted to fuck with me. Maybe it had all been a ploy to get into the band.

Fuck. I had no idea what to do now.

***

I stood at the bar, listening to the band play as I downed my third straight whiskey. There was no way this was going to end well, but I needed to do something to drown out her damn voice. Only it didn’t seem to matter how much I drank. My head was full of thoughts of Her. And fuck, I was angry. So fucking angry.

“Another,” I ordered, slamming the empty glass down on the counter. The bar dude raised an eyebrow at me, but refilled my glass.

Yeah, you just keep filling it. You’re not being paid to fucking judge me.

He slid the glass across the bar to me. “Are you all right, man?” he asked with a sympathetic smile.

“Fucking dandy,” I grumbled, downing the contents of the glass in one hit. My eyes watered as the liquid slid down my throat, slowly wearing away at the pain. Maybe this was what I deserved. I’d fucked up so many lives that I didn’t deserve happiness.

I cradled my head in my hands as her voice broke through me again. The song ended and the crowd cheered. I couldn’t handle this anymore. I had no fucking idea why I’d even come. Grabbing my phone and my keys, I stumbled off the stool and walked toward the exit.

“Sax!”

Shit. I kept walking, pretending I hadn’t heard her. Only I couldn’t ignore her fingers when they curled around my arm, pulling me back. I sighed and turned around.

She smiled at me, her brow furrowed. “Are you okay?” she asked. “You were going to leave without saying hi?”

“Yeah, I guess I was,” I muttered, wiping my mouth with the sleeve of my jacket. My head was spinning and all I wanted to do was block out everything.

“Have you been drinking? You’re drunk,” she accused.

Her hand reached out for mine and I pulled away, stumbling back. She was too close.

“What’s wrong? You’re scaring me.”

“It’s fucking bullshit. I’m going home,” I muttered, shaking my head. I felt the keys slip from my hands.

“You’re not driving anywhere. Come on, I’ll take you home.” She stalked out, leaving me no choice but to follow her.

“Are you going t

o tell me what the hell is going on?” she asked. Her hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles had turned white. She stared straight ahead, her eyes not leaving the road.

“Nothing. Just leave it.”

“Leave it? How can I leave it when you’re like this?” she asked angrily.

She turned the wheel sharply, sending my head into the side window. Fuck, that hurt. I reached up and rubbed it, before I looked around and realized we were in front of my house. Unclasping my seatbelt and opened my door and headed for the house without saying a word.