5. Cassie
CASSIE
A strange sense of relief comes over me when I pull the car door closed, shutting out the rest of my world and moving into Tor’s space.
It feels calmer here, which is crazy. Everything happened so fast last night that he probably didn’t have a chance to process it, but by now, surely, he’s felt the reality that his twin brother is dead.
And other people may suspect it, but he knows I’m responsible.
He doesn’t say anything right away. He checks the rearview mirror before backing out of my driveway, then starts down the road at a nice, responsible speed.
My mom’s still watching, after all.
Absently, my gaze drifts to his hand on the steering wheel. He’s a confident driver, relaxed. Despite being in the car with a murderer—and his brother being killed last night—he seems remarkably unbothered.
I clear my throat, and only then does he glance my way.
“How are you feeling today?” he asks me.
A frown swiftly creases my brow. “Me? I’m fine. How are you?”
“I’m not the one being looked at for murder,” he points out, his lips tilting up slightly.
“No.” I pause, absolutely hating having to address this in an empathetic capacity.
“But you are the one who lost a brother last night. Your twin brother. And then you helped the assailant get away with it, so… that’s a bit weird.
I thought after getting some sleep, you might have some feelings about it. ”
Shrugging, he says, “Of course I have feelings, but they don’t change anything that happened, do they? So, what’s the point?”
“I don’t know. Taking care of your mental health?”
“My mental health is just fine.”
I’m pretty sure some would disagree with him after last night.
I stare at him, deciding just to ask the question that hasn’t left my mind. “Why did you help me?”
His amusement dissipates, and his jaw tightens. “You didn’t deserve what would have happened to you if I hadn’t.”
“I… I killed someone.”
“Someone who hurt you deeply,” he says, his tone even.
“Maybe he didn’t realize it at the time or maybe he didn’t know how badly it would hurt you, but it did, and…
there were no real consequences for him.
You’re the one who’s been through hell this past year.
I can’t fault you for what you did. It was basically self-defense.
I am sorry you got to a point where you felt like that was the only way you could get any justice. ”
His reaction baffles me. I obviously agree with him, but that’s because I’m on the opposing side of this fight.
His position feels so emotionally removed from his brother, and not once in the past year have I gotten the impression anyone in the Walters family saw my side of things. “Were you guys not close or something?”
“We were close.”
He doesn’t offer more, so I keep prying. “You loved him?”
“Yes,” he says, growing slightly annoyed.
“And you’re not mad at me?”
His gaze drifts my way, and our eyes lock. “No.”
Last night, he may have been a master of deception, but I’m confident he’s telling the truth right now, even if it’s a truth I don’t understand.
I nod, breaking eye contact and looking out at the road. “Where are we going?”
“Just driving,” he tells me. “Things seemed tense at your house. Thought a break would do you good, give everybody a chance to cool off.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not spinning out of control. I won’t murder anyone else,” I mutter.
He cracks a smile. “Good. I don’t know how many times I can be a believable alibi.”
The details of our alibi resurface, memories of last night skating across my mind.
I sneak another look at his hands on the steering wheel and remember when they were on me last night.
His fingers unhooking my bra. His thumb grazing my pebbled nipple.
His lips trailing up my neck while his cock moved deeper into my pussy.
A ripple of remembered pleasure lights up my nerve endings, but I blow out a breath and try to shake it off.
Licking my lips nervously, I ask, “Did they… did they collect DNA evidence from you?”
“Yes.” He lets a beat pass, then he says, “I don’t think we have anything to worry about, but DNA evidence will be a bit trickier in this case because we’re identical twins.”
I nod because I already knew that. Not from this case, not even from some half-remembered science class, but from the other case.
Because I went for a rape kit immediately, I believed the DNA evidence would be strongly in my favor.
My lawyer cautioned me that even if it came back a match, and even if the medical exam supported my claims that I was raped, it wouldn’t be enough to convict him.
The DNA evidence wouldn’t prove beyond a doubt that Timothy Walters raped me; it could just as easily have been Torrance Walters.
I knew it wasn’t, but what I knew didn’t matter much. It was all about what could be proven.
“So the DNA they took off me will match you and Tim.”
“Right. But they’ll know it was me because they swabbed me, and I’m sure they swabbed him, too. Your DNA should have been all over me, but it shouldn’t be on him—and if it was, probably only a trace amount that would make sense given you were in our house.”
That was a missing piece last summer, too.
By the time police came around to question him, Tim had already showered.
“Good thing we… strengthened the alibi,” I say, feeling my face warm even as the words come out of my mouth.
Tor smirks. I feel him look over at me, but I can’t meet his gaze. “Yeah, good thing.”
I swallow, my discomfort pushing me to make a joke. “I’m so glad I get to be the worst sex you’ve ever had.”
Tor laughs, his grip on the wheel shifting. “You’re not the worst sex I’ve ever had.”
His voice is warm with something like affection, and it slides over my frazzled nerves like honey, putting me more at ease.
“Besides,” he adds, lightly, “I told you it wasn’t really sex, remember?”
“Yes, that was one of the many, many lies you told last night.”
“Hey, it was a lie you needed.”
I shake my head. He sounds so shameless. I can’t fathom spinning the bullshit he spun last night without batting an eye. “You’re definitely a better liar than I am.”
“It’s a gift.”
Ordinarily, it’s not one I would value very highly, but in my particular circumstances… “I know we’re not in the clear yet, but… if I get out of this, I literally couldn’t have done it without you.” I lick my lips. “So, thank—”
“Don’t.” He shakes his head. “You don’t have to thank me.”
I’ve been so angry that no one was in my corner, but now that it feels like he is, I can’t help but consider the very real consequences there might be for him. “How did your family react? Not to the… death, but the part about you and me.”
“They weren’t happy.”
I imagine that’s putting things lightly.
Sliding a glance my way, he says, “Apparently, it’s disloyal to hook up with the enemy.”
I nod. “That seems right.”
“Nothing I can’t handle, though. Nothing for you to trouble yourself with.” He doesn’t give me a chance to respond before adding, “If we want this alibi to hold up, we should probably make a point to get together every now and then.”
My eyes widen. “Get together?”
He smirks. “I don’t mean sex. I mean, we can have sex if you want to,” he offers magnanimously.
“Wow, that’s generous of you.”
“I know.” He nods. “But they don’t get a subscription to keep swabbing us, so we can do whatever we want.
I just think it would look suspicious if we stopped now, especially considering they don’t really have any evidence we ever hooked up before.
It looks more believable if we keep seeing each other. ”
“That makes sense to me.”
He nods toward the glove compartment. “Pop that open.”
I frown, my gaze shifting warily to the small compartment. “Why?”
“Just do it.”
I scrunch up my nose but reach for the latch to release it anyway.
The compartment pops open, and a small, rectangular white box falls into my hands. I turn it and see a picture of a cell phone on the front of the box.
“You probably won’t get yours back for a while,” he says. “Thought you’d need a replacement.”
“Oh, wow.” I look over at him. “You didn’t have to get me a phone.”
“I know our story is that we’ve been hooking up in person, and we weren’t communicating with our phones, but I think it makes sense for that to change now given what happened last night.
No way our thing could have stayed a secret after that.
I already created a contact for myself in your new phone.
We’ll start texting, but we need to keep in mind that those texts could still be pulled if they continue to look at you as a suspect.
I have every intention of continuing to protect you, Cassie, but you need to let me.
You need to stay close to me. You need to tell me everything. ”
I nod my understanding.
“I need to know more about Russell’s involvement,” he says. “Have you talked to him since last night?”
I shake my head. “We haven’t spoken. I don’t have my phone, so I don’t know if he’s texted me.”
“Do you think he would have?”
“Depends on if he’s heard the news. If so, probably, yeah.”
“We need to shut off service to your phone so new messages stop coming in. I set you up with a new account on that phone, so you’ll have to start fresh and re-save your contacts.”
“I can call the phone company today,” I say.
“Good. And you don’t think he had any idea what you were planning when he gave you his gun?”
“He didn’t seem suspicious. I don’t think most people who know me would ever suspect I would do something like that.”
He nods thoughtfully. “How close are you?”
I don’t know why this line of questioning makes me uncomfortable. “We’re friends, but not super close.”
“Whose idea was it to stay friends after you broke up?”
“Do I need my lawyer for this?” I ask lightly, but mostly as a cover for my real feelings of discomfort.
The corners of his mouth tug up slightly. “Won’t do you any good—I’m not the law.”