34. Then #2
My stomach drops. It’s insane, but when he spells all this out for the police, they’re going to agree with him. Every fucking thing that’s happened is pointed straight at Luke.
The police will look at the incidents he’s been involved in. They’ll look at the part where he threatened to drown that kid.
They’ll hear from everyone in the house about the argument last night between Danny and Luke, about how they heard Danny shouting at someone on the beach. Then half of Rhodes will come forward to mention Luke defending me after the pastor’s funeral.
Luke, who was out on the beach last night for hours, with no alibi. Luke, whose surfboard is the only evidence they have. Even if they can’t pin it on him, he’ll lose his sponsors for sure.
“Grady,” I plead, “you know Luke would never do this. Please don’t tell anyone about my conversation with Danny. He was being…irrational. He sensed we were drifting apart and he was saying all kinds of crazy stuff.”
“Danny wasn’t crazy, and don’t you dare try to imply he was. The only thing that was crazy was that he didn’t see it sooner. I kept telling him and he wouldn’t listen.”
Oh, God. What has Grady been saying and for how long? And why did Danny never ask me? Why didn’t he just end things?
If he’d ended it, if he’d never met me at all, he might be with someone like Libby by now.
Someone who’d love to be a missionary’s wife.
And Luke…he’d be unblemished. All his altercations, prior to me, were as a juvenile.
Ancient history. He’d be surfing, accruing sponsorships, sleeping with a different bikini-clad girl every night.
Maybe I’m just as poisonous as my mother said. Maybe I’ve ruined people’s lives—my brother’s, Danny’s, Donna’s. But I refuse to add Luke to that number.
“Tell me what to do,” I beg. “You know Luke wouldn’t have done this, but he’s got a record. Even if it comes to nothing, he’ll have lost all his sponsors by the time it’s done. This is going to ruin his life.”
He scoffs. “Look how fast your tears dry when we start talking about Luke.”
I want to apologize. I want to grovel. I want to say anything that will convince him to help. But I’m making this worse every time I open my mouth.
“Grady, Danny even said something about making the jump if he had Luke’s board. You heard him. Punish me all you want, but you know Luke didn’t do this. Don’t tell the cops Danny saw me with him.”
He stares at me, pale, dry-eyed, and calculating.
“I want you gone,” he says at last. “If you want me to keep all this to myself, I want you out of Rhodes. Permanently. And don’t think for a moment I’m going to let you walk into the sunset with Luke after everything you’ve done. You leave, and you cut off all contact with him.”
I can’t. It will hurt Donna and Luke, but it will kill me.
“Grady, I’m not going to say anything about last night—”
“Last night didn’t happen, do you understand? Imply otherwise, ever, and I will ruin you and Luke both. I just want you gone.”
“How am I going to explain that to them?” I ask, my voice breaking. “They’ll be so hurt.”
“What would hurt Donna more? You leaving or her finding out you’re the reason Danny’s dead?” His mouth presses tight. “As for Luke, just tell him you can’t look at him without seeing Danny’s face. If you were a better person, it would probably be true.”
* * *
The search and rescue team arrives, and when I start to call Donna, I’m crying too hard to get through it. Beck takes the phone and tells her what’s happened.
The police ask us to follow them to the station.
I’d normally ride with Luke, but suddenly every step I make seems suspicious.
Will they wonder why I woke Luke first? Will they make something of the fact that I rode with him to the station?
Will they see what now, out of nowhere, seems completely clear to me: that I was with Danny, but Luke is the one I’ve been leaning on.
That I was marrying Danny, but Luke’s the one I told things to and turned to when I was upset, again and fucking again.
So, I ask Harrison to take me instead, ignoring the confusion on Luke’s face as he watches me head toward the BMW. At the last minute, though, I turn and walk over to where Luke stands. He’s so fucking honest—so unexpectedly, unnervingly, unreasonably honest.
I need him not to be, today.
“Don’t tell them anything about us,” I whisper.
“Don’t tell them you liked me. Don’t tell them about our conversation last night.
Just don’t…drag me into this.” By which I mean don’t drag yourself into this , but I can’t say it.
He has no sense of self-preservation whatsoever, but he will preserve me, and today I’m using that to its full advantage.
“Okay,” he says. There’s a flare of hurt in his eyes, a clench of a muscle in his jaw. Good. Be hurt and confused, Luke. It’ll just make it easier for you to believe I want nothing to do with you once this is through.
I press a hand to the ache in my chest at the thought.
I don’t know how I’ll stand to do it.
* * *
When we arrive at the station, they tell us Danny’s body was found. Luke’s leash was around his ankle.
I sink into a black padded chair, my legs shaking too badly to hold me up. I knew it already, but it’s different, hearing it confirmed. I bury my face in my hands, telling myself to wake up.
Nothing changes.
He’s really gone. Did I make him happy these past few months? I’ll never know. I only know he’s gone now and it’s all my fault.
Donna calls me, her voice choked with tears, so stunned she can barely form words. “Juliet,” she whispers, “how am I going to live without him?”
My eyes squeeze shut. I don’t know. I don’t know how any of us will ever move on. We weep together until someone comes to get my statement.
I’m led back to a desk, thinking the entire way of the last time I was in a police station.
How they quietly blamed me and asked me to sell Luke out over something so much more minor.
I think of how they set my brother up to die before he’d even left the building.
No matter how nice they seem, I can’t afford to trust anyone.
If I lie and Grady doesn’t, it’ll look like I’m helping Luke cover up a crime. Maybe a really good lawyer could poke holes in that version of events Grady presented…but we can’t afford a really good lawyer.
So, when the cop arrives, I take small truths—that Danny was drinking, that he was jealous of Luke’s board—and spin them into a story about what happened that bears little resemblance to reality.
“I understand Luke and Danny argued,” he says. “Do you know what it was about?”
“I have no idea,” I reply.
Lying comes easily, but I guess it should. I’ve been doing it for years.
* * *
The days leading up the funeral are a blur.
The church has rescinded its offer to support Donna’s mission in Nicaragua and she’s too broken to care.
I sit on one side of her during the funeral, and Luke sits on the other. I haven’t met his eye once.
Afterward, there’s a reception held at the church. Donna is surrounded by people trying to console her and feed her. Libby would like to do the same for me, but Grady is always hovering nearby with a look that frightens me.
He’s only gone along with this because I’m holding something over him. What if he figures out one day that he doesn’t have to be ashamed of who he is? What if it comes out anyway? He wasn’t exactly being careful that night. If he gets caught with someone else, will this whole thing fall apart?
I let my gaze rest on Luke for a moment, that face I love so much. How much further would I go to protect him? I’d go as far as necessary. If I could think of a way to eliminate Grady entirely, I’d probably do it.
The old, bad Juliet is front and center right now, as if she never left. I’ll need her, going forward.
Luke crosses the room to me. “Can we go somewhere to talk?”
Grady is watching. I need to just…get this done.
“No,” I reply. “And stop trying to pull me aside like this. People are already talking about how I followed you when you took that first cliff jump. You’re making me look bad. I’m leaving for LA tomorrow. Don’t call me, don’t text me. This is done.”
All the color leaves his face.
“You can’t be serious right now.” I’ve never heard his voice so hoarse, so empty.
“I will never look at you without seeing what I lost,” I lie, my throat constricting so tight I can barely get the words out.
I take one last look at his shocked, heartbroken face and walk straight out of the reception hall, unable to hold it together for another moment.
I don’t know how I’ll survive without him, but for his sake, I’m going to figure it out.