AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I feel like Tucker thinks he’s guilty, but he’s not. The only guilty person is Matt, and his own sister who thought she was okay to drive.
Just like Rafael was partly guilty that night. And me too. Because I had let him drink and drive. Unlike me, Tucker didn’t knowingly let his sister drive, because he didn’t see her leave the scene. He has no reason to blame himself for her death.
I stare at him with wide eyes and his pain jumps to my face. I can’t find the right words to comfort him.
“She’s just a vegetable in the middle of a fucking bed, a broken doll. In the days that followed, I punched Matt again and got kicked off the baseball team. Tonight…what he said…I tried to pull her away from the debauchery in my life only to throw her into the lion’s den. And, partly because of me, my stupid rules, she has been immobile for months in bed, hooked up to devices that keep her alive artificially.”
I hang on to his first sentence. So Debbie is not dead, but in a coma…and Tucker blames himself. His situation breaks my heart. I try to strengthen my barriers, but to no avail. His distress hits me hard.
“It wasn’t your fault, Tucker. It was only Matt’s fault.”
“Your sister decided to go to that party on her own and drive home when she was high,”I hold back from adding so as not to hurt his feelings.
“Don’t try any of the psychology techniques you see in class on me,” he orders me dryly. “I don’t need that. I just…needed, I guess, to say it.”
“Why wasn’t Matt convicted? Could what he did to Debbie have been rape?”
Tucker shakes his head. “The cops got Matt’s phone and that damn video back afterwards. According to them, all they could see is my little sister having fun and laughing at the situation while both of them were drunk.”
I let go of his knee. He’s off in his thoughts now, reliving that awful memory. I think for a second. My brain orders me to be quiet, reminding me that I barely know him. But a part of my mind urges me to open up to him in turn.
Maybe it would do me good to put my past into words? To talk to someone who has suffered as much as I have?
“My parents were murdered last year,” I begin with difficulty. “That’s why I came to this city.”
Back to reality. He suddenly turns his head towards me, his lips half-open. All his attention is focused on me, and I resume before I am unable to.
“I told myself that life had played with me enough, that it wasn’t cruel enough to play another bad trick on me. But a month later, I lost another person who was dear to me.”
I frown, my eyes resting on my fingers, which I am currently fiddling with. He doesn’t know I’m talking about Rafael, but I can’t tell him everything. I can’t.
“About my parents…I…one night I came home and found them murdered in the middle of the living room. There was so much blood,” I murmur.
He moves closer to the edge of the couch, leans over me, and places both hands on either side of my body. His thumbs graze the tender skin of my hips, but he says nothing, waiting silently.
I don’t tell him everything. I don’t tell him that I killed their killer, I don’t tell him that I was completely messed up by this situation and that everything turned into an even bigger nightmare afterwards.
“Which explains your reaction the other day to the Larey case and to my being an asshole when I kidnapped you for the third trial.”
I simply nod. “My little sister survived because I arrived in time.”
I raise my eyes to him, hardly holding back my tears. I pray to swallow them, I pray not to look weak.
“The other day, you were wondering about the little problems I had…we’ve all been through awful things. We deal with our worries in our own way. And I would never judge someone who has gone through and overcome whatever this damn life has decided to put in their way.”
I rest my index finger against his cheek, brushing it gently.
“I’m not going to judge you,” I whisper. “You’ve opened up to me, and I won’t ask you any questions.”
He tilts his head at my touch and closes his eyes. “And I won’t either.”
We nod at the same time. He stares at my bare thighs, my breasts almost visible under my little pajama top, then rubs his face. He leaps to his feet, leaving me confused.
“I’ll let you sleep” he declares as he retrieves his T-shirt and walks to the front door.
I look at him for a second. I can’t let him go. “Tucker!” I exclaim as I straighten up as well.
Still with his back to me, he stops. His shoulders are tense, his body impatient. I can see that he is still on the edge of the abyss. But he forces himself to calm down.
