Breathless #5 (The Breathless Romance Series - Book #5) (4 page)

“Mr. and Mrs. White,” I said, extricating my hands
from Johnny’s and moving towards them. “I’m so, so sorry to sort of…barge in
here. I hope you’ll forgive me, but I was so worried about Johnny, I didn’t
even think about how much pain this must be causing you.” Claire’s mother
smiled slightly.

“Easy to see why you’re Johnny’s girlfriend,” she
said, reaching out and taking my hand. “I am glad that someone is here to talk
some sense into Johnny — sense we can’t seem to.” I frowned.

“What do you mean?” I asked, looking from Claire’s
mother to her father. Claire’s father glanced at Johnny.

“We know that Johnny had nothing to do with…raping
Claire or with those horrible pictures that came out,” the man said, swallowing
against what I knew had to be deep, lingering pain at what his daughter had
gone through. “We know he did everything he could to get her out of there, to
try and help her heal, and then…” He closed his eyes, unable to continue.

“When it all…” Claire’s mom cleared her throat. “He
testified against every last one of those boys. He’s one of the prime reasons
that they’re all in jail now.”

“So why can’t the police tell them that? Or
something?” I looked at the three other people: Johnny, Claire’s mother, her
father.

“Johnny’s been trying to protect us. He thinks if he
takes all the heat to himself, if he turns himself into the police and they
‘investigate’ him again, then it will all go quiet again.” I sighed, and looked
at Johnny.

“I understand that you want to save us the pain, son,”
Claire’s father was saying. “But if you this…you’re never going to get past
this rumor if you don’t let us clear the air.”

“If they investigate me again,” Johnny said, “they’ll
say that there’s no proof I was involved, that I’m innocent, and you won’t have
to be involved.”

“Johnny,” I said, gesturing to the front yard.
“They’re already involved. And if you don’t let them clear your name, then it’s
going to keep coming up for the rest of your life — do you really want that? To
keep reliving it, and making them relive it, every few years until you’re
dead?” Johnny’s face went white at the thought of not only reliving the pain
and grief of Claire’s death, but of forcing her parents to relive it, as well.

“If they put me away,” Johnny said, licking his lips
and pressing them together, “then they won’t have to relive it, either.” I
scowled at him.

“You stubborn, stupid jerk!” I couldn’t help smiling
sadly even as the magnitude of his sacrifice hit me. “You’re not going to throw
away everything you’ve worked so hard for just to satisfy some scandal-hungry
journalists, are you? You’re not helping Claire by doing this!” Claire’s father
cleared his throat, and we both turned to look at him.

“Johnny, we’d like to talk to the press; now you can
decide that you’re going to turn yourself in for a crime you didn’t commit if
you want to, but we all know better. We know you’re innocent. And we want to
clear the air.” I gave the older man a little smile of appreciation.

“If they tell the press that they know you weren’t
involved, if they explain what’s going on, then it will all be over. The police
know what’s going on; I can’t even believe you think they’d let you turn
yourself in.” Johnny looked from me to Claire’s parents, uncertain. “Johnny,
this is a chance to finally finish it for once and for all. You owe it to
Claire, you owe it to her parents who are still grieving her.” I reached out
and grabbed his hand, kissing it lightly.

Johnny looked at Claire’s parents, and then at me.
“Johnny, I love you,” I said finally, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I
don’t want to lose you — don’t do that to me, please.” I felt my eyes stinging.
“Everyone will get to see you the way I do: the real you. We could be happy
together, I know we could.” Johnny hesitated only a moment longer and then he
leaned in, touching my face gently, holding me by the cheeks as he brushed his
lips against mine,
kissing
me lightly. He broke away
from my lips after just a moment and looked over at Claire’s parents, taking a
deep breath and exhaling.

“I’m ready,” he said quietly, giving my shoulders a
squeeze.

Chapter
Five

It was hard for me to know who was more innocent as we
all walked out through the front door of Claire’s parents’ house: Johnny, Mr.
and Mrs. White, or me. Claire’s parents had their faces set, neutral and
controlled; I could tell that they had spoken to the press like this before — probably
in the wake of Claire’s suicide and during the investigation. I felt for them.
I couldn’t even imagine what it was like to lose a child. I couldn’t imagine
how much pain and grief and guilt they had already gone through, and now they
were putting themselves through this additional trial just
to
clear Johnny’s name. I gave Johnny’s hand a quick squeeze as he moved to stand
next between Claire’s mom and dad.

The press was going crazy: snapping pictures, shouting
questions, milling close to the edge of the front porch. I clenched my teeth as
they shouted questions that were just flat-out cruel to Johnny about Claire — cruel
not only to Johnny, but also to Claire’s parents as well, utterly unfeeling.
Johnny raised his hands up in the air, gesturing for the journalists to move
back. “We have a statement,” Johnny said, pitching his voice over the shouting
of questions. “We are going to talk to you, but you have to move back and let
us speak.”

Gradually, the reporters and photographers and
cameramen understood what was happening and they began to quiet down, to move
back enough to give Johnny and Claire’s parents a little space. I swallowed
against the lump in my throat. I wasn’t sure I would be able or even willing to
do what Claire’s parents were about to do to clear Johnny’s name.

Claire’s mother spoke first, clearing her throat
quickly and sniffing. Johnny reached behind and I took his hand; he held onto
me tightly. “I wanted to address rumors — rumors circulating about my daughter,
who tragically took her life after a brutal attack and bullying.” Claire’s
mother cleared her throat again and I wished that I could do something, anything,
for her.

Claire’s mother told the story, almost exactly the way
that Johnny had: that her daughter had gone to the party, and that Johnny had
left before the attack had ever happened. “I have no doubts that he was out for
pizza,” Claire’s mother said, glancing at Johnny. “And I have no doubt at all
in my mind that as soon as he knew what had happened — as soon as he had the
slightest inkling of it — he hurried to get back to Claire, to do what he could
to help her. He brought her home to us.”

Claire’s father swallowed before taking up the story.
I had to admire both of these people so much — they could easily have refused
to speak, refused to be forced to relive what had to have been the most
horrible weeks of their lives. No one would have blamed them. “I’ve known this
young man for years,” Claire’s father said. “I have known from the first time
that he took my daughter out that he was a good guy. I believe it to this day;
Johnny Steele could never have hurt Claire. He loved her.” Johnny gave my hand
a squeeze, unconsciously.

I listened as Claire’s father explained the role that
Johnny had played in getting Claire home, that Johnny had tried to get Claire
to seek help. Claire’s father teared up as he described his daughter’s final
days on the planet — the fact that she was hounded by so many people at school.
That Johnny had tried to do what he could to encourage Claire to either change
schools or seek treatment. “This is a man who loved my daughter,” Claire’s
father said, sniffing as he fought to keep from openly weeping in front of the
camera. “I miss my little girl every day, but I know better than to blame it on
this young man. I know exactly who Johnny is — and I know what he tried to do
for my girl.”

It was Johnny’s turn, and I felt the clamminess of his
hands as the journalists waited with bated breath to hear what it was he had to
say. I didn’t know what he was going to say, either; I didn’t know what there
even was to say anymore, but I knew that Johnny had to address the press with
something.

“I’d like to thank you all for letting Mr. and Mrs.
White deliver their statements,” Johnny said. He smiled slightly, wryly. “I’m
sure you all have questions that they weren’t able to answer, so now I hope
you’ll listen to me.” I couldn’t help but feel proud as Johnny spoke about the
love he had felt for Claire, but that things just hadn’t worked out between
them; he didn’t share any personal details or mention what he had told me of
Claire’s wilder, more flirtatious ways after the breakup. It wasn’t important,
and it would only hurt her parents. He came to the night of the party and went
through the events one last time —
just
in case
, I thought,
someone had
missed the previous recital
.

“I’m sure many of you are wondering why there’s a
police file on me for the investigation, if I’m so innocent,” Johnny said,
looking out at the crowd of reporters. There was a faint little murmur sounding
like agreement. Johnny took a deep breath. “The boys who did those horrible
things to Claire — they were my friends. They were my teammates.” Johnny
swallowed. “I knew that they had to go to jail, but I was afraid to come
forward at the risk of losing my other friends on the team. All of the guys on
the team wanted everyone to keep their mouths shut, not say anything one way or
another. But I knew what I had seen that night.”

I gave Johnny’s hand a squeeze, and he glanced at me —
just for an instant. He continued, “I knew that the prosecution needed all of
the information I could give them, if they were going to put the boys who hurt
Claire in jail. So I testified against every last one of the guys who attacked
her. The file is sealed for my protection. The police were afraid that there
might be reprisals against me if it came out that I had testified against my
teammates.” Johnny paused and smiled slightly. “I loved Claire, but I didn’t
just testify because I love her. I testified because it was the right thing to
do. Any girl that I knew about who had that happen to her, I would give her
whatever help I could.”

There was a pause, and I felt like some of the tension
had finally begun to ratchet down in the air, the journalists absorbing the
incredible information that had been given to them by Johnny and Claire’s
parents. In the silence, Johnny pulled me towards him, and Claire’s father stepped
to the side slightly so that I could fit between him and Johnny. “Thank you for
listening, everyone,” Johnny said. “I think, I hope, I can trust this to be the
end of the story. I can’t see any reason to keep hurting people who are already
grieving, can you?” There was no way of knowing, but I thought, based on the
way that journalists were obviously thinking about and digesting what Johnny
had said, that it probably would be. After all, what point would there be
anymore
to continuing to pursue it if the victim’s parents
themselves had gone on the record to say that everyone involved in the case was
behind bars?

Johnny’s arm tightened around my shoulders. I wondered
what we should do; declare the impromptu press conference over? Some of the
journalists were obviously eager to ask more questions, some of them were
nodding, a few were smiling in recognition, acknowledging how much it must have
cost Johnny, as well as Claire’s parents, to speak like this. “Does anyone have
any other questions?” Johnny asked, sounding, like me, just a little confused.

“There’s been some speculation that you’ll be sitting
out, or even missing, the Championship game tonight,” one of the journalists
said, pushing herself forward slightly. “Any comment on that?”

“I fully intend to be there,” Johnny said firmly. “Hopefully,
coach will let me play.” There were a few chuckles amongst the journalists
assembled.

“Is it true that this is your new girlfriend?” someone
pointed to me.

“It is,” Johnny said. “I have a lot to lose right now,
which was why I was on the verge of giving into all this. But I’m not used to
losing.” A few more chuckles at that, and some of the journalists asked a few
more questions about hockey and about Johnny’s college career. “I hate to break
this up,” Johnny said, looking at his watch. “But if you guys want to even have
a chance at seeing me win the game tonight, we’re going to have to get on the
road.”

The journalists started to wander away, and I sighed
with relief. Even when they were no longer bombarding Johnny or Claire’s
parents with questions about her death, it was a lot of pressure to have them
around, watching, taking pictures. Johnny hugged each of Claire’s parents in
turn; Claire’s father said something to him, but I couldn’t hear it. Claire’s
mother gave me a hug and pressed something into my hand that she had taken out
of her pocket. I felt myself tearing up, and I kissed the older woman on the
cheek.

Johnny held my hand as we walked to the car, and I
looked at what Claire’s mother had given me. It was a locket — it looked like
it had come out of a catalog, and on the back it said “Love, Johnny.” I smiled
to myself and showed it to Johnny. “I gave that to her,” Johnny said, smiling
slightly, shaking his head. “I gave it to her for her birthday; I saved up for
weeks.” I didn’t want to wear it, but I thought that it was fitting that
Claire’s mother had given me one of the most important tokens of Johnny’s love
for her daughter. It was clear approval of my dating Johnny, and it seemed
almost to come from Claire as well as from her mother.