Read Premeditated Online

Authors: Josin L. Mcquein

Premeditated (34 page)

I think it was having the same effect on him, but he didn’t know how to move past it.

“Look. I’m not going to pretend everything’s okay. You nearly destroyed me, and no matter what you did to fix it, that’s hard to forget.”

“You don’t have to forget anything. I’m staying here in cinder block land while you go back behind the ivy and gated
walls. And I promise not to climb any more of your trees. Peaceful coexistence and mutual avoidance.”

“If I wanted to avoid you, I wouldn’t have come all the way down here, but not climbing my tree is probably a good idea. Next time my room might be empty. Stick to the front door.”

“Will anybody answer?”

“Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe I’ll just watch you squirm and set the dogs on you.”

“You don’t have any dogs.”

“I’ll ask Dad to buy some. Rottweilers. With really big teeth. Of course, you’d probably have your friends make poison hamburgers, so it wouldn’t do me much good.”

He bumped my shoulder with his, giving me a weak grin and a weaker laugh, but it was a start. By that point, the only cars left were his and mine, but they were close enough to each other that we could walk the same direction and keep talking. Brooks put his hands in his pockets and shuffled off with me beside him.

“Did you hear about Dex?” he asked.

“The police called Uncle Paul about adding Claire to the list of charges against him and getting copies of her letters, but that’s all. He says Dex could get some serious time, so I figure there was more to it than I know.”

“A lot more. Enough that I was sick for two days thinking of how many times I ignored things he did or said because I didn’t want to believe anything could be as wrong as it was. Jordan talked Abigail into giving a statement, and after that three others came forward.”

He sounded like he was apologizing.

“I don’t suppose your dad’s going to be offering
him
any lawyers?”

“Not likely.”

“We’re at my car,” I said. I wasn’t stating the obvious so much as giving him an easy out if he wanted an excuse to leave. “Walk me to mine?” he asked.

I dumped my books in my seat and put my hands in my pockets the same way he had his.

“Chandi made me come over here, you know,” he said.

“Oh …” My stomach dropped, a feeling I was far too acquainted with. “She shouldn’t have done that.”

“She claimed I was moping and that you were the reason, and then told me that if I couldn’t get off my butt on my own, I had to bring you something for her. I have a feeling it was an excuse, but I promised her I’d give it to you.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a very familiar straight pin topped with an enamel butterfly. I held out my hand so he could drop it.

“She gave this up?” I asked, now smiling for real. Whether this was Chandi’s reaction to the removal of Dex from her life or her way of removing temptation, I had to believe things had improved.

“She said she didn’t need it anymore. Why? Does it mean something?”

“More than you can imagine. Just don’t ask me to explain.”

No more diving into other people’s business for me. From what I’d seen at the fairgrounds, it seemed that Brooks knew Chandi was a cutter but didn’t know the details to go along with it. If she wanted to explain, she would. If she didn’t, she had her reasons.

“She gave a statement, too. A very long, very detailed statement … How could she not tell me what was going on? How could I not see it?”

Why is a raven like a writing desk? Some questions don’t have answers that make sense.

“Dex is a sociopath—they’re chameleons.” Or so said Dr. Useless. “They’re also very convincing.”

“I still can’t believe Chandi thought I’d take Dex’s side over hers. She must have been terrified.… I’m surprised Jordan didn’t rip him to shreds.”

She probably would have if she’d known things had gone farther than name-calling and mutual loathing.

We’d reached the Beemer, but he didn’t get in. He stood by the door while I leaned against the side, soaking up the warmth from the engine where it bled through the panel.

“If Chandi came forward, does that mean she and Jordan are officially out?” I asked.

“Jordan’s never really hidden anything, but yeah—Chandi’s folks know. Only her mom was surprised. Honestly, Dex is lucky he’s locked up. Max has raised Chandi since she was a year old; he’d kill him.”

I stopped myself from saying “I know the feeling.”

Brooks opened the door and climbed behind the wheel, but he didn’t start the engine. He sat there and waited.

“I have no idea what happens next,” he said. “I don’t know what I should do, or say, or anything. I don’t know if I should keep my mouth shut and go home like today never happened.”

I knew exactly what he meant. Brooks’ appearance had dredged up too many things I’d hoped to keep buried, but at the same time, I was afraid he’d drive off and I’d never see him
again. And if that happened, I’d never know if the version of him I’d settled on was the real one. He was still that puzzle I hadn’t figured out how to solve.

“What do we do?” he asked. “How do we fix this?”

There was no way to fix it, but maybe there was a way around it; whether it worked or not would depend on his reaction. I stuck my hand out the same way I had in the Lowry theater to give myself a do-over. We needed a new start, or at least a real first one.

“Hi, I’m Dinah Powell,” I said. “I have a habit of jumping to conclusions and disengaging my brain when it doesn’t agree with my temper. My mom’s nuts, but the rest of my family is relatively sane. We’ve spoken, but I don’t think we’ve ever actually met.”

My hand hung in midair until the chill made my fingers tingle. I started to pull them back when Brooks raised his own hand and wrapped it around mine.

“Brooks Walden,” he said. “I’m a terrible judge of character and a lousy actor. I have a dad who’s finally coming to grips with the fact that he’s a widower and that my mother’s memory isn’t going to strike him down if I don’t turn out perfect. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Josin L. McQuein was born and raised in Texas, where she used novel writing as a way to escape when she needed a break from caring for ailing relatives. Now she and her three crazy dogs live in a town so small that the buffalo outnumber the people and things like subways and consistent Internet access are fictional creations of the faraway fantasy land known as civilization.

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