Chapter 10 #2
I eyed the both of them as I twisted the bottle open. Bennett’s foot was tapping against the floor as Chase pressed himself to the back of my couch. They obviously wanted something.
“What is it?” I asked, taking a sip of the beer.
“You knew that girl,” Chase said. “I knew something was fucking wrong. I knew it. I’ve never seen you act like that before.”
“Looks like someone couldn’t keep their mouth shut, huh?” I looked over at Bennett.
Bennett put his hands up. “We can’t have secrets between us. Come on. You know that. Not when we do what we do. I’m not holding this against you. I had to tell him.”
I wasn’t going to hold it against Bennett either if I was being honest, but I knew what they’d both want: a story and some answers, and talking about my past with Juliette wasn’t exactly easy. “Okay, now what?” I said.
“Tell us what happened with you and her,” Chase said, eyes locked to mine. “Tell us everything. Why the hell did we go into that house if you knew one of the people who lived in there?”
“I didn’t know she’d be in there. I didn’t know she still lived in Chicago, that she was married to that old fuck,” I said. “I didn’t go into that house with the intention of finding my ex-girlfriend.”
“Ex-girlfriend.” Chase scrubbed his face with his hands. “Holy shit. And she knows it’s you. She knows who you are, ‘cause you couldn’t keep your mouth shut and had to make sure she knew it was you. Bennett told me.”
I thrusted the bottle of beer towards Bennett. “Thanks, man.”
“He was gonna find out eventually.” Bennett sighed. “You talked to her, right? What did she say?”
“On the phone?” Chase asked, eyes narrowing. “Or did your dumb ass go back there?”
“His dumb ass went back there,” Bennett answered for me.
Chase hissed. “Come on, man. I get it. She’s your ex, you haven’t seen her in a long time, but what the fuck were you thinking going back in there and outing yourself? She’s gonna fucking rat. You know she is.”
“No, she’s not. It’s been weeks and she hasn’t said a thing to the cops,” I said. “I talked to her the other day. She saw my face, she knows my name—”
Chase groaned, head thrown back. “Fucking hell, Bridger.”
“She knew it was me that night—”
“Yeah, ‘cause you had to let her fucking know,” Chase bit out.
“She knows who I am, but she hasn’t said a word to anyone,” I continued. “The cops would have been here by now if she had said anything. And trust me, she has a reason to call them. Well, she thinks she does.”
Brows furrowing, Bennett kept his eyes on mine. “What does that mean?”
I cleared my throat, drinking more of the beer as a little distraction.
I took a long sip, thinking about the way she had looked at me that last day I saw her.
Before I found her again. How heartbroken she had been when the cops stormed into my home that night screaming about how I was under arrest for vandalism and breaking and entering and some other shit.
She had come to my place for comfort that day, and I had given it to her.
Afternoon had stretched on into night as I whispered to her that I was sorry someone had done something so fucking awful to her, only for her to look at me like I was a monster when those cops slapped those cuffs on my wrists.
“We ended things on a bad note,” was all I could grumble out.
“Elaborate please,” Bennett said.
“She thinks I did something,” I said. “I didn’t do it, but she thinks I did.”
“What does she think you did?” Chase asked.
“It’s a long, complicated story,” I said.
“Give us the long version.” Chase curled his fingers at me. “No shortcuts, no summaries. We need to know everything.”
Sighing, I pushed a hand through my hair.
“She used to paint back in school. Back when I knew her. She wanted to do it after she graduated. Remember, Bennett? I told you this.” I nodded at him.
“And she had this big project she was working on; it was for her college application. She had been working on it for months. She wanted to study art when she left school, but her parents would never pay for her tuition. They’re rich as fuck, but her art stuff?
They hated it. Hated that she was into that.
The only way she could afford school was with a scholarship, and that was what the painting was for. But…”
“But?” Chase said.
“Someone vandalized the hell out of it. Sliced right through it a couple times. Ruined the whole thing, and then…” My voice trailed off as the memories hit me. “She thought it was me.”
“Why’d she think it was you?” Chase asked.
“Evidence. Supposed evidence. They found my fucking fingerprints at the crime scene or some shit…” I winced a little at the memory, at me being dragged into that cop car and then the interrogation after.
The worst part was that I knew I was being fed lies: we’ve got your prints at the scene, you left behind something that belongs to you, we’ve got your hair fibers.
It was bullshit, all perfectly crafted to make me look like some deranged asshole who’d hurt Juliette that bad.
“I didn’t touch that painting,” I said. “I’d never do that shit. Not to her. I fucking loved her. Loved her so much it hurt some days, but I still got carted off to prison.”
“You didn’t try and contact her?” asked Bennett. “You didn’t call or write?”
I scratched at the back of my neck. “I wrote to her. And she wrote me back. And…”
“And?” Chase prompted.
“She wanted nothing to do with me.” I shrugged lazily. “Said that she was dumb for ever getting involved with me, that I was never good enough for her, that she wanted to be with someone who actually deserved her.”
I held in a hiss as I remembered the words.
No one had told me how much a letter could hurt, but Juliette managed to write the most painful one in existence.
I was so stupid for giving you a chance.
You could never give me the life I deserve.
You barely have enough money to take me out on dates, what makes you think I could ever love you forever?
And I still kept that fucking thing. Kept it in my drawer with that damn bracelet like it meant something, but it was the last thing I ever had from her. I had to keep the final bit of her, otherwise there’d be nothing left.
“It wasn’t you,” Chase said firmly. “I believe you. I know you wouldn’t do that, but who the hell was it then?”
“I don’t know.” I sat the beer down and scraped my hands over my face.
“Her parents fucking hated me. They had it out for me the second they met me. You don’t know how much money these people had…
Have… I think they’re both still kicking…
They wanted me dead for even thinking I had a chance with their daughter. Her dad especially.”
“So, he did it?” Bennett asked. “What kind of dad does that?”
“She never really got along with her parents. They were always pushing her to do dumb shit. Fucking stupid rich people stuff. Debutante balls and country club shit. They wanted her to marry someone like her. Someone rich, from her world. And she always said she was never gonna do it, but…” My voice trailed off at that, picking the beer back up, my finger grasping the glass bottle tight. “She did exactly that.”
“What a fuckin’ mess,” Chase muttered.
“I kinda beat the shit out of her husband tonight, by the way,” I said sheepishly, my brows raising a little.
“You what?” Chase asked.
“Dude, you went back there?” Bennett asked, eyes all wide. “Again?”
“I got him outside his office.” I shrugged. “No one saw. I wore a mask. I didn’t kill him or anything, just kinda… fucked his legs up a little.”
“Jesus.” Chase raked a hand through his hair, stepping away from the couch. “You’re still in love with her, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m fucking not,” I snapped.
“You don’t fuck up a woman’s husband unless you’re in love with her.”
“I’m not in love with her,” I gritted out. I needed some fresh air or something. It had been hard enough telling them that story. I didn’t want to relive it all over again. “Anyway, can you both fucking go home now? It’s late. I see enough of you fucking guys already.”
Bennett checked his watch. “Yeah, fine. But can you stop making stupid decisions? You’re usually smarter than this. Apparently girls make you stupid.”
“Just one girl by the looks of it,” Chase said before letting out a long breath. “I hope you at least fucked her husband up good.”
I snorted. “Definitely got a few good hits in.”
“You shoulda asked us to come with you.” Chase nodded over to Bennett. “Well, me. Mr. Pacifist over here would have just sat in the car or something.”
“Appreciate the offer, but I didn’t need help with that. Guy’s not exactly hard to fight,” I said.
“Can you just be careful?” Bennett said. “You’re not gonna stay away from this girl. That much is obvious, but can you just use your damn brain when it comes to her? She hates you, right? And she hasn’t ratted yet, but…”
“You’re still scared she’ll snitch, but I promise you that she won’t.
And if you’re thinking about fucking going back there and seeing her…
Giving her a warning or something…” Exhaling sharply, my eyes darted between the both of them.
Slowly, carefully, to make sure they knew I meant every word I was about to say.
“You can’t go near her. You can’t touch her; you can’t lay a finger on her.
You’re both my brothers now, but if you even think about doing something to her… ”
“We don’t do that shit,” Chase said, arms crossed over his chest. “You know we don’t. And as mad as I am at you, I still wouldn’t touch her.”
“I’m not going near her either,” Bennett said. “I promise.”
“I wouldn’t mind killing her husband,” Chase said. “Guy wouldn’t stop crying the other night. Fucking annoying. We’d be doing your girl a favor if we took him out for her.”
I chuckled lowly, but then my brows creased when I processed those words he just said. Your girl. She wasn’t my girl and she hadn’t been for a long time.
Chase sighed deeply. “Look, all we’re asking is for you to be smart about this. To be smart about her. Just… use your head, okay?”
He was right. Chase was right most of the time, and I knew I shouldn’t have reached a point where I was being reminded to be smart, but there I was, mind consumed with nothing but Juliette Ashford and how much I used to love her.
Juliette always had a way of making me act real fucking stupid.