13. Cassie
CASSIE
I hear the words, but they don’t reach me.
Not at first.
Because they’re impossible.
Russell was just at my house last night.
He can’t be dead.
My gaze drifts away from the lawyer as he continues talking, my mind struggling to wrap around the words he’s using. Words like suicide.
Russell wouldn’t kill himself.
And why would he do it last night after he spoke to me? My mind races to recall as much of our conversation as possible. Yes, he was pissed at me, but there’s no way he would do something like this. He wouldn’t kill himself to punish me, and he certainly didn’t love me so much that he would…
And he told me he was going to talk to the police today.
He told me, and I told—
The air rushes out of my lungs as the other words fall into place.
Russell left a note next to the murder weapon.
But how could he have done that when he didn’t have the murder weapon?
Tor had it.
Tor, who rented that motel room, making sure we were seen together. Making sure no one came or went using the key cards. Tor, who left the motel to go ditch the weapon somewhere once he made sure his alibi was in place.
The same weapon that was apparently found at Russell’s house, next to his dead body.
I can hear my heart thudding in my ears.
No, no, no, no, no.
This can’t be real.
The lawyer keeps talking, but I can’t concentrate on anything he’s saying.
My throat is closing up, and panic is building, making my chest feel tight.
“Excuse me.” I jump up from the chair and rush to the door without looking at Tor. I burst out into the corridor, my steps hastening. I don’t even know where I’m going. I just need to get away.
But I can’t because I don’t have a car. The only car I do have belongs to Tor, or to his family, and I left it back at the restaurant.
For a lucid moment, I can see my life tearing apart at the seams. I know that even if I get away with what I did, nothing will ever be the same. I will never be the same.
Because I didn’t mean to, but I caused this.
And the weight of it is too much.
It’s raining when I escape the building.
I’m glad because the rain makes it easier to let the tears fall.
Flashes of better times with Russell skate across my mind, making me sick to my stomach. The twinkle in his eye when he smiled at me.
It’s extinguished now—forever.
Because of something I did.
How is this my life?
This isn’t supposed to be my life. None of this was supposed to happen. I didn’t want this. Honestly, I didn’t want any of this.
Another thing I don’t want happens.
I hear the door open behind me, and my heart skitters.
I don’t have to look back to know it’s him.
And I can’t… I can’t look at him right now.
Some fogged part of my brain tells me it’s not safe to have my back to him, but I don’t even care at this moment. I don’t have the capacity to care.
I want to get as far away from Torrance Walters as I can, but I feel trapped. I’ve seen the way he operates, so I understand that the only way I’d get away is if he let me—and I doubt he’d let me.
Grabbing the railing to steady myself, I walk down the steps to the parking lot.
He’s just a step behind me.
“Please stay away from me. I need to… I need a minute.”
Instead of giving me what I asked for, he grabs my wrist, tugging me back into him.
I stiffen, but he wraps his arms around me, holding me close as the rain falls harder.
“I would give you a minute, but I don’t think that’s what you’re really asking for.
And I think there are moments in life when distance—which is what you’re really asking for—can change everything. I can’t give you that right now.”
“Let me go,” I whisper.
“No,” he murmurs, almost apologetic. As if it’s something he can’t do, even if he wants to.
But that’s bullshit.
He just doesn’t want to.
Anger bubbles up inside, and I try to shrug him off, rolling my shoulder and pushing back against him. “I said, let me go.”
He doesn’t tell me no again, but he doesn’t let go, either.
His arms are locked around my waist, and I claw at them, trying to break his hold on me.
My nails dig into his forearms, but his grip doesn’t ease.
I grab his hand, trying to get some leverage, but he’s too goddamn strong.
The frustration of it makes me crazy, and I keep clawing at him, pulling at his hands, twisting, but no matter how violently I fight him, he doesn’t let go.
Finally, his voice breaks through the rage—firm, in control. “This isn’t the time or the place for this, Cassie. We can talk later, but right now, we need to go back in there and show a united front.”
Even though I know the answer, I spin around to look him in the eyes when I whisper brokenly, “Did you kill my ex-boyfriend?”
His jaw locks, and he holds my gaze, but he doesn’t answer my question. “Like I said. It’s not the time or place.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “You want me to go in there and provide an alibi I know is bullshit, to protect someone I know killed someone close to me last night.”
“Yes. Just like I did for you.”
His words knock the air from my lungs. “It’s not the same,” I whisper, shaking my head. “Russell didn’t deserve it.”
He nods once, a barely perceptible movement. “I know. We can talk about it later when it’s just us. Right now, we need to focus on the story we’re telling the world—and it’s not that one.”
It’s not the first time I’ve been aware of him handling me since this roller-coaster ride started, but it is the first time I’ve wanted out of the car. “I can’t. I need to… I need to go home. I can’t go back in there.”
“You are going back in there,” he says calmly, as if it’s as much a certainty as the sun rising tomorrow.
He brings his hand to my face, tilting my chin up and forcing my gaze to his.
His blue eyes aren’t stormy, but his grip on my face is firm.
He runs his thumb across my bottom lip, casually grazing it in a gesture that could be interpreted as tender, if not for the words he speaks next.
“You know something about me that could get me locked up, just like I know something about you that could get you locked up. They’re both gone, Cassie, and no amount of self-sacrifice or noble gestures will change that.
What we can do is move on. You can do all the good in the world you want to if you feel the need to make up for anything.
I’ll help you. But we can’t do anything if we’re behind bars.
We’re almost through this. It’s almost over.
I’m not going to lose my freedom over this, and I think at this point you’ve realized you don’t want to lose yours, haven’t you? ”
I feel sick, but I manage a slight nod.
He mirrors it, nodding back at me. Voice reassuring, he says, “Yes, and why should you? What good would it do? I feel the same way, and I don’t feel the same moral conflict about it.
We can talk about that later, but right now, we have to get through this appointment.
We have to get through the police interview.
And it’s okay for you to be upset. It’s natural for you to be upset.
But don’t lose your head. Think before you say anything, and remember that our fates are tied together.
If I go down, you go with me. And vice versa.
So let’s take care of that, hmm?” He caresses my bottom lip again, then leans in to kiss it.
I stiffen and, for the first time, flinch away from his kiss.
He notices, but other than the slight tightening of his jaw, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Pulling back, he catches my hand, and I want to shake it free, but I don’t.
I let him haul me back into the lawyer’s office, but I hate myself for it.
I feel useless in the appointment, too. The lawyer gives me a look of fake sympathy, but I can feel him observing me through it all. He doesn’t trust me any more than I trust him.
“You okay?”
I nod wordlessly as I sit back down. Terry’s words fade out, but I’m hyperaware of Tor taking the seat next to me. His chair feels closer to mine than it did before. I don’t know if it really is. I don’t know anything anymore.
I sit there in a fog, not participating in the slightest, as they have a conversation that will drastically impact my future.
Because Tor is right, of course. If I were to sink his ship, he could sink mine just as fast. It wouldn’t even hurt him at that point. What’s a little obstruction of justice when you have a murder charge?
He has saved my life up until this point, but if I betray him now, he will end it.
Maybe literally, considering what I know about last night.
I’ve also watched his family get away with their crimes before, so who’s to say it wouldn’t happen again? Maybe he would spin it somehow. Get out of it. Leave me to sink by myself.
It would be my own fault.
He threw me a life preserver, and I let go of it to point my finger at him.
It’s sickening because I know this is unjust, and I don’t want to help him get away with the murder of someone who wasn’t guilty of anything (except sometimes being an asshole), but I don’t want to go to prison for killing my rapist, either.
And I will. The court has already made their position clear.
They didn’t care what he did to me. They weren’t going to punish him for it.
So I did, and this is the fallout.
I guess I should have realized that tying myself to someone who responded the way he did to his brother’s murder came with its own risks.
Russell’s words from last night come back to me: Tor Walters is fucking crazy, and now you’re spreading your legs for him, so it seems like you like that in a guy.
And then his other words hit, and they hit a lot harder.
Maybe you want more than a guy who will jump through your hoops, Cassie. Maybe you want a guy who will kill for you.
I didn’t, though.
Right?
And even if maybe in the deepest, darkest corners of my soul it would have felt nice to have someone so completely on my side, so protective of me, I would have wanted him to hurt the person responsible for hurting me, never someone who didn’t deserve it.
I wanted justice, not vengeance. I settled for vengeance because the alternative was swallowing the injustice, and that wasn’t an option I could live with. But I’m not bloodthirsty.
I may have felt let down by Russell as a boyfriend, and he may have scared me a little last night, but I would never—
“Miss Pritchard?”
My gaze snaps up, my eyes wide with guilt as I realize I haven’t been listening to a single word my lawyer said. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”
He holds his pause for a moment to make sure he has my attention, then he says, “It would be understandable if you wanted to wait until tomorrow to interview with police, but there is some advantage to going today while this is still fresh. Your present mental state could work in your favor to convince the detectives that you weren’t involved, that you didn’t know anything. They’ll see how stunned you are.”
My blood runs cold, but somehow, it makes me feel instantly sweaty. “That I didn’t know anything?”
“About Russell planning Tim’s murder,” Tor says, to clarify before I say anything dumb.
My eyes widen, but I keep my gaze trained on the lawyer. “Why would I know anything about that?”
Terry’s eyebrows rise. “Your boyfriend killed the man you accused of rape, Cassie. The man who got off when you tried to prosecute him for that alleged rape. It would make sense if the police looked at the possibility of your involvement, but there’s nothing they could find that would prove that, right? ”
I try to catch up, but this is so much.
“It was her ex-boyfriend,” Tor states, “and if anything, he was probably jealous. The guy had a tendency to be a fucking creep, and he didn’t let go of Cassie when they broke up.
He didn’t gun down her rapist a year later at her behest.” He leans back, shaking his head.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he saw us together one night and it triggered him.
Hell, he could have followed her that night and flipped out when he realized she was at our house.
We’re identical twins—maybe he didn’t realize it was me she was meeting, and it fucked him up thinking she’d be hooking up with Tim after what she said he did. Who knows what he was thinking?”
“You think he would care that much this long after the breakup?” Terry asks.
“Considering he was waiting for her outside her house last night and flipped out about us being together, I’d say he still cared.”
The lawyer stares at him for a moment, then looks over at me. “Is this true? You saw Russell Wilcox last night?”
I nod miserably. “Yeah. He was waiting for me, kinda… hidden in the shadows on my front porch. He watched Tor drop me off and then once Tor left, he confronted me about… spending time with him.”
“Spreading your legs for me. I believe that was what he said, wasn’t it?”
Face heating, I confirm with a nod. “He was mad.”
The lawyer sits back in his chair. “Okay. That’s… important information.”
“If you think it’s best,” Tor says, “we’re happy to talk to the police today. The sooner this is all over, the better. Obviously, we’ve both been through a lot.”
The lawyer nods, glancing at me, then back at Tor. “Then let’s get started.”