“Thank you,” I say.
She watches me until I’m in my car.
My hands shake wildly. I barely get the car started, but somehow, I manage. Emotions overcome me, and I cry uncontrollably. How can the man I’m in love with be the same man that killed my gram and walked away, pretending it never happened? How can a man with such a huge heart be capable of murder? I don’t understand. I think I know him, but he’s fooled me somehow.
Love tricked me, blinded me from seeing who he is. From seeing the truth that was always right in front of me. The car he refuses to drive, the crime his father covered up that my father told me about, the dark secret I heard about from James, and his anger whenever I inched closer to uncovering his crime. The man I love is a monster.
I slam the car door in his driveway and charge to the front door. A look of shock sweeps over his face when he opens the door.
“Faye. What’s wrong?” I don’t answer. “Is it Wyatt? Did that son of a bitch hurt you again?”
“No … No, Wyatt didn’t hurt me.”
“Then what?” He studies me. I’m trembling. “You’re scaring me.”
I close the gap between us. “I want to know about the Camaro and don’t fuckin’ lie to me.”
“What is this all about?”
“Did you ever consider the people you’d hurt? Did you ever think about anything besides protecting yourself?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Tears fall as my hands fly wildly in the air, shaking the police report in his face. I feel completely out of control.
“You kept the car like a souvenir, you sick bastard! You cried for my loss when I told you.” I shove the police report into his chest and shove past him into the foyer. “I know what you did!”
Roy whimpers, nudging his snout into my side. I snap, yelling at him to go lie down.
Battle doesn’t look at the papers, letting them fall to the ground. Unable to look at him, I pace the foyer until his hand grabs my arm. “What did I do? Just tell me.”
“You killed her.” I slam my fists into his chest repeatedly. “You killed my grandmother, and then you hid your precious car so you wouldn’t get caught, but I know. I know what you did. I know who you are.”
He grabs my arms, giving me a gentle shake. “I didn’t kill anyone.”
I jerk madly, trying to free myself, but he won’t let go of me. “There was a witness. Read the police report. You looked right at her, and fled the scene anyway. You left my grammy to die in the street. I hate you. I fuckin’ hate you!”
My throat closes up as I punch him again and again, until my fists feel like they’re bleeding. He lets me assault him, absorbing each blow as punishment.
“No. No. Look at me goddammit!” He shoves me back, but
keeps his grip on my arms. “You know me. Do you honestly believe I could live with myself if I’d killed someone?”
I refuse to look at him. I can’t do it. I’m afraid I’ll see the cold, hard eyes of a killer, a man caught, without remorse. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I don’t want to believe it, but Mrs. Vernon swears it was you.”
He frowns as he releases me. I collapse to the floor, hugging my knees. My body is assaulted by tremors. The more I picture Battle killing my gram, the more violently I shake.
His shadow disappears into the other room. He returns seconds later with dice and kneels beside me, holding them out.
“Roll.” I refuse to take them. “I said roll goddamn it!” I flinch at his words, but I take the dice and roll them on the tile in front of me. They land on twelve. “You win,” he says. “Now ask me!” I shake my head, scooting away. “Please. If you ever loved me, ask me.”
His desperate and remorseful plea, convinces me. My mind races. Maybe he was so wasted he doesn’t remember hitting a person. I have to be extremely careful about how I word the question.
“Did you get drunk and crash that Camaro?”
“No.”
“Why don’t you drive it?”