22. To lienot to lie
TO LIE OR NOT TO LIE
Lor
A few hours later, I’m idly scrolling across another meteor map when the TV I have on in the background catches my attention. There’s breaking news of a fire. Arson, they’re saying.
I stand from the table and snag the remote off the couch. It’s a story on a massive warehouse fire that just so happens to coincide with the building I normally drop off the stardust at. The blood drains from my face, and I drop onto the couch.
Kahlo mrows a scolding at me for bouncing the cushions, but I don’t acknowledge it.
I can’t tear my eyes from the TV and the roaring flames.
They show a clip of the blaze with firefighters spraying down neighboring buildings to contain it, then reveal an after-shot of the charred remains.
There’s hardly anything left; even the metal supports are twisted and warped.
Ro did this.
This is why he’s in jail.
My mind blanks, and I click the TV off. The silence is monumental, both inside and outside my head.
I don’t know what to think. Was anyone hurt?
He must have followed me one time when I thought I lost him, but why did he burn it down?
Was it an impulse, something he couldn’t control?
That doesn’t feel right, he wouldn’t have let it get that out of hand.
Which means it was on purpose.
My heart starts thumping in my chest, pounding so hard I’m half-convinced something is wrong. The muscles in my legs tremble before I tense them to stop it, and it feels like I’m not getting enough air into my lungs. I need to get out of here, to get away from all this.
I jump off the couch, startling Kahlo enough for them to hiss and dash away, but I’m already by the front door. I snag my keys, and am on my bike before I know it. My hair flies behind me, a tangled mess, but I don’t care enough right now to worry about it.
That’s future Lor’s problem. Current Lor has enough problems she’s already running from.
And now I’m talking to myself in the third person. That can’t be good.
I try to empty my brain, try not to think about fire, or jail, or the club, or anything to do with Ro.
It’s impossible though, when I don’t feel his eyes on me.
I’ve become so used to the sensation, that to go without it feels bizarre.
It’s an uncomfortable feeling, like when you think you forgot something, but can’t remember what it is.
I clench my jaw and twist the throttle harder, desperately hoping to leave my fears and worries behind, but the further and faster I go, the more wrong it feels.
When the sun dips from under the heavy clouds and nearly blinds me, it shocks me out of my stupor enough for me to realize what I’m doing. I have no idea where I am, no destination in mind, and the ride has not cleared my head like it normally does.
Because he’s not here following you.
As soon as the thought crosses my mind, horror slides down my throat to settle heavy in my stomach. I left him. He didn’t leave me, not intentionally. If he really did set that fire, I have no doubt it was to protect me. Somehow, he found out what was going on, and this was his response.
“God-fucking-damnit!”
I continue to curse up a storm, throwing a leg out as I whip the bike around in a 180. It leaves skid marks along the road, and my front tire leaves the pavement for a moment when I gun it back the direction I came.
I don’t have time to be out here. Ro needs me, and I was ready to abandon him.
My heart feels like it’s lodged in my throat, and anger at myself pulses scorching heat through my veins.
I’m sweaty when I get back, bursting through the door and earning myself another hiss from a different room.
I toss my helmet and gloves on the couch as I sprint to the kitchen, then scramble back to my laptop and pull open the tab with the attorney’s information.
My fingers shake as I type the numbers into my phone.
“Shirlene and Associates, how can we help you?”
“Hi, yes.” I pause, panting between words as I try to catch my breath.
“I gave my… boyfriend,” another pause as I stumble over what to call Ro, “your information. He was arrested earlier for arson but hedidn’tdoiticanproveit.”
“Ma’am, I need you to slow down. Please provide your name, and the name of the person you referred to us, and I’ll check if we have any releases on file.”
I suck in a breath, willing my hands to stop shaking.
“Right, my name is Alorra Seren, and I referred Foras Cromwell, he goes by Ro. He would have called this morning.”
“Thank you, one moment while I check please.”
An eternity of pacing around my coffee table and kitchen passes before she returns to the phone.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, I don’t have anything on file for you.”
“That’s okay, can someone just take my statement? You don’t even have to confirm you’re working with him, just… I need to tell someone he wasn’t there, he didn’t do it.”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line, then muffled talking like she covered the phone with her hand.
“I’m going to transfer you, please hold.”
I heave a breath of relief, and then I’m talking to someone I assume is on his legal team. I have no idea how expensive they are, but I’ll gladly help foot the bill. He did this for me, after all.
“Ms. Seren, you said you referred Mr. Cromwell to us and that you have information about his case?”
“Yes! He was with me, he couldn’t have set that fire.”
Another pause, this one heavier, then the woman on the other end clears her throat.
“Alright, please start from the beginning.”
My mind is already moving onto the next piece of my plan when I hang up with the attorney, the pieces falling into place right as I need them. I drop some food into the bowl for Kahlo, refill their water, and then head back out the door.
I practically sprint to Tempo, then twist my way through dancing bodies until I get to the DJ’s turntable.
Finn glances at then away from me, then does a double take.
He holds up one finger for me to wait, and I bounce on my toes, twisting my fingers together until he puts on a playlist and steps away.
“Hey,” he says, placing one hand on my arm, and turning me toward a quieter area so we can talk.
I want to slap his hand away for how casual and unconcerned he’s being, but I’ll give him a pass for now. He doesn’t know what I do.
“What’s up? I don’t think Ro came in tonight, although he’s supposed to,” he says, brows furrowed.
“Yeah, that’s what I need your help with. He’s in trouble, and, um…” I trail off, darting my eyes around as though one of the big boss man’s goons will be eavesdropping on us. “Well, I don’t really have anyone to ask, and I figured you must know a lot of people from working here, right?”
He nods slowly, looking more confused than concerned as he waits for me to continue.
“Okay, yeah. So. I think I need a hacker.”
Ro
I’m notified that my attorney is here, and escorted to a private room even though I just saw her a couple hours ago. I’m pretty sure that’s not normal, but I don’t have anything else to do.
She pins me with a calculating look as I lower myself into the hard metal seat opposite hers, and I’m half convinced she’s a supernatural of some sort that can read minds.
“Um,” I say, glancing around. “What’s up?”
“You tell me,” she says, voice steely.
The woman is honestly terrifying. Her brown hair is slicked back in a neat bun, and she wears thick red cat-eye glasses.
A navy power-suit and heels show off an intimidating form, and there’s a tattoo peeking out at her wrist. I have no idea what to make of her, or how to handle myself in her presence, other than to gulp and hope for the best.
“I… tell you?” I practically squeak the words and my face burns. I wish I had something to fidget with, but I don’t dare call on my flames, and they took all my rings and bracelets. I clear my throat, then straighten. Lor said she was good, and I trust Lor, so I need to trust this woman too.
“Do you know a Ms. Alorra Seren?”
“Lor? Yeah, did she contact you?”
“And what is your relationship to Ms. Seren?”
My mind whirls as I try to figure out where this is going. I should probably be honest, right?
“She’s, well, it’s a bit complicated—”
The woman interrupts the start of my nervous ramble with a huff. She takes a folder out of her briefcase, flips it open, and slides it across the desk to me.
“Ms. Seren called my office, insisting to talk to your legal team. She stated she had evidence that will exonerate you. She claims you were with her all night, and therefore could not possibly have started the warehouse fire.”
She pauses to tap a blood red, coffin-manicured fingernail on the papers in front of me. My own nails are abysmal, chipped flecks of purple remaining on only a few. I blink the printed words into focus as the message trickles into my brain.
Lor said I was with her? I wasn’t, and I’m pretty sure my scary attorney knows it. But Lor’s statement is right here. I look up at her, half expecting this to be some sort of joke or trick.
“She said she’d be willing to testify for you. I have no doubt we’ll have to take her up on it if this is to be our plan of defense. Luckily for you, no one was injured, so the worst we’re dealing with is property damage. I’ll give you a minute to read this over.”
Her words are crisp, and she continues to stare, dissecting the innermost parts of me like she can see all my secrets. I blink back down at the papers in front of me, taking in Lor’s words.
She’s lying for me. My heart thumps as my eyes flit back and forth over the first page, then the next.
None of this is true, and I don’t know if it will work, but would it give me a chance?
Thank goodness I didn’t share much of anything with my attorney earlier.
Most of what we did was sign paperwork, and she instructed me in no uncertain terms not to speak to anyone but her.
“Now,” the attorney says, leaning back in her chair and crossing one leg over the other.
Her suit pant pulls up enough for me to hope she never comes near me with those pointy as fuck, sky-high heels.
“Let’s try this for the second time today.
Would you care to share your side of the story with me? ”
I’m back in my holding cell, pacing the small space as my mind turns in circles. Half of me thinks I did the right thing, and half of me wishes I had done the opposite. I only ever wanted to protect Lor, but I don’t know if that’s what I’m doing anymore.
Flames tingle beneath my skin, and my fingers itch to snatch something.
“No more fires. No more stealing. No killing,” I mutter the words under my breath, hopefully too soft for anyone or anything to pick up.
The mantra repeats in my head, and I time the words with my steps, but it’s not helping as it used to. I need Lor. I think I protected her, and I hope it’ll stick, but then another thought pops into my head.
My parents will be so disappointed.
I drop onto the bench bolted to the wall as the energy leaves my limbs. They wanted better for me than this, and Lor won’t be happy I protected her at the sacrifice of myself. This is so much more complicated than it was supposed to be.
I hunch over, hiding one hand behind the other as I let a spark of flame out. I twist it between my fingers, the tiny concession easing my demon urges enough to keep the rest in check.
It’s a long night, and the following days don’t get much better.
Between arraignment and my court date for trial, I’m held in custody.
Apparently, they’ve deemed me too great a risk to public safety to be released pretrial, so I’m stuck in the county jail for the next two weeks.
My attorney contacts me whenever she needs additional information or to clarify something, but otherwise I assume she’s coordinating with Lor, since I signed a release for them to speak.
I spend every day debating with myself. Lying to a courtroom is definitely not the definition of “good person” behavior, and all I’ve wanted my entire life is to be good.
But if I don’t, and Lor has already put in her statement as evidence, would that get her in trouble for lying and trying to cover for me?
Could she then be charged as a co-conspirator or something?
For once my demon likes the idea of lying, mostly because it means protecting Lor, but also because if it works, it means I get to be with her again. I don’t know what to do. I wish someone would come tell me so I didn’t have to make this decision myself.
The worst part of this entire situation isn’t the food, or the cold cell, or the lack of freedom. It’s that I haven’t been able to talk to Lor.
My demon is losing it. I’m not able to sleep, I can hardly keep food down, and my mind is filled with thoughts of her.
The only thing that helps is the visit from my therapist, but even she can’t save my mind this time.
All I can do is remind myself to stick to the plan, and that it’s all worth it for my Starfire.