“You wouldn’t have believed me if I had, any more than you do now,” I snarl back.
That’s when I notice them. Micah, Ev, Jesse.
And Christ, Manon. She’s right there, next to Tyler, her mouth pressed thin.
“You should have told me,” she whispers, her eyes welling up. “God, you should have told me.”
She claps a hand over her mouth, spins on her heel and runs out.
“Fuck.” I knock my head back on the wall, barely feeling it. “Christ.”
“What’s going on here?” Tyler looms behind Zane, his dark eyes fixed on me. “Believe what?”
I swallow hard. “That Shane and I had nothing to do with it. That we were innocent.”
“The judge thought differently,” Zane says grimly.
I shift against the wall, my shoulder weirdly numb, like my head. “We were set up.”
“Yeah? By who?”
“My mother and her new husband. They were the ones dealing the fucking drugs.”
“Why would she do that to you?”
“Because she’s a selfish bitch, that’s why!” I don’t know why I’m still fighting, after all this time, after nobody has believed me, ever. Who would believe my own mother set me up? Probably wouldn’t believe it myself if I heard it from someone else. “She watched as her man broke my bones, then they grabbed their bags and left, calling the police to come pick me up.”
“Why would she do such a thing?” Tyler asks, leaning in over Zane’s shoulder.
“Because I was stupid.” I have to swallow again, the lump in my throat not going away. “I threatened to call in the cops if she didn’t stop. If she didn’t keep spending all the money she got from social services on heroin and crack and her boyfriend’s booze. If she didn’t run a goddamn drug cartel from our house. Shit.”
Can’t breathe. Don’t know what this is. It’s not fear or panic. It’s an overwhelming sadness that crushes my chest and won’t let my lungs work.
“Rafe was trying to get you a job,” Zane is saying, his voice a distant buzz. “To help you out, fucker. That’s how he found out.”
“Sorry,” I wheeze, wondering what this is—if I’m having a heart attack or something. Aren’t I too young? “For everything.”
“Fuck.” Zane stomps away from me, and I look into Tyler’s hard face.
“Go home,” he tells me. “Stay put. Zane’s pissed, but he’s a fair guy. He’ll look into this.”
Yeah, right. Whatever. Why the hell would he? My rap sheet says it all. I’m guilty. I’m an ex-con. Manon’s gone. Damage Control is gone. All I hoped for is gone up in smoke.
It’s all over for me. Didn’t know the end would come so soon, but like they say—when it rains, it pours.
Story of my life.
***
Gathering my jacket, I limp across Damage, heading to the exit.
The walk of shame. Everyone heard what Zane said, what I said. Tyler, Jesse, Micah, Ev, Ocean.
Didn’t think I’d feel ashamed for something I didn’t do. Something that was beyond my control, but Zane’s words cut deep.
I lied to him. Yeah, I did. To protect Shane. To protect myself. But I get where Zane is coming from. He said it to my face. This is his family, people he swore to protect, and my covering up of the truth put them—and his shop—at risk.
What the hell am I gonna do now? My mind’s numb as I step outside and a shiver wracks me. My shoulder aches dully, but it’s nothing serious, I can tell. The pain matches the ache in my head.