Chapter Twenty One
Revel
Jail is quieter than I expected.
Not actually quiet. There’s a guy coughing somewhere down the hall, the scrape of rubber soles over concrete, a metal door slamming hard enough to echo through the holding area.
Fluorescent lights buzz overhead with that ugly white glow that makes everybody look sick.
But compared to my head, the place is fucking peaceful.
I’m sitting with my elbows braced on my knees, staring down at my hands. Dried blood is cracked across my knuckles, dark around the split skin.
Some of it is mine, but most of it isn’t.
Every time I flex my fingers, the skin pulls and burns. I rub my thumb over one of the cuts anyway, watching a thin line of fresh red push through.
I should probably care about the fact I’m sitting in a holding cell after beating a man unconscious in the middle of a grocery store.
But I don’t.
All I can think about is Cece.
I was supposed to be at dinner for seven, and I have no idea what time it is now but I’ve been here for what feels like hours.
The cops who arrested me took my phone, wallet, belt, basically anything that might tell me I still belong to my own life, then walked me through enough hallways and processing rooms that time stopped meaning much.
But I know it’s late.
Too late.
I lean back against the concrete wall and close my eyes.
She trusted me.
That thought has been eating through me since the cuffs clicked around my wrists.
Cece stood in that paddock today, kissed me in front of everyone, looked me dead in the face and told me what time to be at her house and I told her I’d be there.
That I would always, be there.
I fucking promised her, and she believed me.
That’s the part that keeps digging the knife in.
“Fuck.”
The guy sitting across from me glances up, but I don’t give a shit. I drop my head back against the wall and stare at the ceiling, jaw tight enough to hurt.
When they finally gave me my one call, I called Lena.
Not Cece.
And fuck if that decision hasn’t been eating me alive ever since.
Every part of me wanted to hear Cece’s voice, tell her I didn’t fucking blow her off, that I wasn’t out somewhere forgetting about her while she sat at her mom’s waiting for me.
But this shit with Travis isn’t mine to hand out.
Lena lived it. Lena survived it. She deserved to hear from me that I’d found him before I started dragging what happened to her into my relationship just so I could make myself look less like an asshole.
So I called her.
Even knowing Cece was probably watching the clock.
Even knowing every minute I stayed silent was proving every fucked-up thing she’d ever told me she was scared I’d do.
I hate it, but I’d make the same fucking call again.
Lena had to come first on this.
I just have to pray Cece gives me enough time to explain why.
The door at the far end of holding opens, and when an officer calls my name, my head snaps up.
“You’re being released.”
For half a second, I just stare at him.
Then I’m already on my feet.
Because I’ve got one place I need to fucking be.
My knees bitch the second I push off the metal bench, stiff from sitting hunched against a concrete wall for fuck knows how long, and somehow my entire body feels heavier than it did after hauling ass around a track earlier.
At least race exhaustion makes sense. This is adrenaline burned down to nothing, Travis still crawling around inside my head, and the knowledge that Cece has spent the last few hours thinking I became exactly the kind of asshole I promised her I wouldn’t.
I follow the officer out of the holding cell and through another hallway toward processing, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead and making the whole place look even more miserable than it already is.
I’m barely paying attention to where he’s taking me until we round the corner and I see Lena sitting against the wall.
Shit.
Her arms are folded tight across her chest, golden-blonde hair pulled back from a face that’s paler than usual, and her jaw is locked in that particular way I know too fucking well. She’s cried.
Maybe in the car, maybe in a bathroom before she came inside, somewhere private where nobody could see it happen. Now she’s pissed about having cried in the first place, which is about as Lena as it gets.
The second she sees me, her gaze drops straight to my hands.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Revel.”
I glance down at the split skin across my knuckles, the swelling already setting in and dried blood still streaked along the side of my thumb.
“You should see the other guy.”
Her eyes snap back to mine. “That is not funny.”
“Little bit.”
“Revel.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I drag a hand over the back of my neck and wince when my knuckles pull. “I’m fine.”
She gives me a flat look that says I’m, apparently, still stupid enough to try that shit with her.
Lena pushes to her feet and comes closer, her attention dropping back to my hands before she looks up at me again.
“You scared the shit out of me, you know.”
That wipes the grin off my face.
“I know, I’m sorry.”
She swallows, jaw tightening again. “You call me from a fucking police station and tell me you found Travis, and then expect me not to lose my mind?”
“I couldn’t not tell you.”
“No. I know, I’m glad you did, I’m just—I wasn’t expecting it.”
“Me either, but here we are.” I exhale and look away for a second, then back at her as I say, “I’m sorry.”
She studies me, then shakes her head like she has about fifteen different things she wants to scream and no idea which one to start with.
The officer starts going through the paperwork before she can choose. Travis was treated, statements were taken, and the store footage caught everything. They got a crystal-clear view of exactly how the fight started and of exactly how badly I lost my shit afterward.
Lena folds her arms again. “So what now?”
The officer keeps talking, and I catch enough of it to know this isn’t just going away.
There are still charges.
Of course there are.
Apparently, he deserved it is not a recognized legal defense.
Lena gave a statement too.
She told them who Travis was. About our placement in his home. The years of complaints. About what he did to her. The detective said there are likely still old reports somewhere in the system, buried under paperwork but not gone.
I look at her.
She keeps her eyes on the officer.
My chest tightens.
She shouldn't have had to do that tonight.
Shouldn't have had to relive it all because I saw that bastard in a grocery store and ripped all those years of healing we did open with my bare hands.
By the time they return my wallet, keys and phone, I’m vibrating with the need to get the fuck out.
My bike was towed to the station instead of impounded somewhere across town.
Small fucking miracle.
The second the phone lands in my palm, Lena catches my wrist.
“Wait.”
I look at her.
“I need to call Cece.”
“I know.”
Her voice is softer now.
That gets me to stop.
We move away from the desk toward the wall, where the noise of the station fades enough that neither of us has to raise our voice.
Lena looks at my hands again.
“What you did tonight was fucking stupid.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You could’ve killed him.”
My jaw tightens.
“I know that.”
She exhales and looks away for a second, eyes shining under the bright lights.
Then she looks back.
“I don’t need you protecting me like we’re kids anymore, Rev.”
Nobody calls me that much anymore.
Not like she does.
Something shifts behind my ribs.
“It wasn’t really a decision.”
“That’s the problem.”
I look away.
She moves closer.
“You always did that.”
I glance back at her.
“Did what?”
“Made yourself the problem so nobody looked at me.”
My throat tightens.
She gives me a sad little smile.
“You’d start fights. Break something. Mouth off until everybody was pissed at you, instead. You thought if you were the difficult kid, maybe they’d leave me alone.”
“It worked sometimes.”
“Sometimes.”
Her face folds for half a second before she gets control of it again, and fuck, I’d almost rather she screamed at me.
Lena pissed off I can handle. Lena calling me an idiot, telling me I should’ve left Travis bleeding harder, even blaming me for bringing his name back into her life—I could take all of that.
This look on her face? This fucking hurts.
“You were thirteen, Rev.”
“Didn’t fucking matter how old I was. I knew what was happening.”
“It mattered to me.” Her arms finally fall away from where she’s been holding them tight across herself, and she takes a step closer.
“You were a kid sleeping outside my door because you were scared to leave me alone. You stayed awake listening for his footsteps, kept a knife under your pillow, told teachers and case workers until they started treating you like you were the problem instead of actually listening to you. None of that should’ve been yours to carry. ”
I drag a hand over the back of my neck and drop my eyes to the floor because looking at her is getting harder by the fucking second.
“I still should’ve found a way to stop him.”
You tried.”
“But it wasn’t enough.”
“For me, it was.” Her voice cracks slightly, and when I finally look up, she’s closer now. “You keep talking like you failed me, but you were the only person in that house who kept trying. The adults failed us, Revel. You didn’t.”
My jaw locks so hard it aches.
Lena reaches for my forearm instead of my fucked-up hands, her fingers closing gently around the blackout ink.
“You were supposed to have somebody protecting you too.”
Fuck.
That lands somewhere I don’t have armor for and I turn my face away, blinking hard as my throat tightens. “Lena…”
“You didn’t fail me.”
“Don’t.” The word comes out rougher than I mean it to, and I shake my head, staring anywhere but at her. “Don’t fucking make me feel better about this right now.”
“I mean it.”
“You don’t have to thank me for any of that shit.”
“I’m going to anyway.”
I finally look at her, and the second I do, I wish I hadn’t because there’s a tear sliding down her cheek and that somehow hits harder than anything Travis ever said tonight.