Chapter 47
FORTY-SEVEN
PRESENT DAY
Madeline
I’m perched on the edge of Jason’s couch, trying to pretend I’m listening to him talk about his trip to Mexico while a decade of memories floods over me.
Jason clutching me, crying as the rain poured down around us.
Jason promising he’d always be there for me.
“It’s what Adam would have wanted.”
“He would be happy to know you found love again.”
I believed him. I believed that he would have done anything for Adam, that his heart had broken like mine when Adam had disappeared. That our grief had brought us closer and made us stronger together.
Jason doesn’t seem to notice that my responses are unenthusiastic at best, or the fact that I recoil when he slides onto the cushion next to me. “Madeline, I’m glad you came over today.”
I can’t believe I almost married this man.
I’m not sure how I can fake this for much longer.
But if this plan is going to work, I have to remain calm and wait for my opening.
I press a hand to the buttons on my blouse, feeling the thin lines of a wire attached to a microphone.
Just a few more minutes and, hopefully, we can put this whole ordeal behind us.
I force a smile and manage a weak, “Me too.”
Jason takes my hand. “I know you said you want some space, and I want you to take all the time you need. But I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
His touch makes my skin crawl. His words are like static in my head.
How many times did he say a version of this same line, and I believed it showed his compassion, his care, his understanding?
How did I not see that he was manipulating me for nearly a decade?
That he’d decided what he’d wanted and was going to wear me down one way or another?
I do my best to casually slide my fingers from his grasp, pushing my hair out of my face to have something to do with them instead. “Just like you were here for me when Adam died.”
He nods. “Of course. I’ll always be here for you. That was such a hard time for us, losing Adam. But I still believe that maybe you and me were the silver lining.” He gives me a sad, hopeful smile.
The doorbell rings, and I nearly slump over with relief.
Jason’s face scrunches in annoyance. “Wonder who that could be. A neighborhood kid who wants to cut the grass, maybe. Let me just get rid of him.” He crosses the room to the entryway, and I get up to follow.
I watch as he swings the door open and blinks, almost in slow motion. Finally, he chokes out a strangled, “Holy shit,” and staggers backward. “Adam?” he gasps.
Garrett stands on the door mat, arms crossed over his chest. “Surprised to see me?”
“Are you—how—what—” Jason’s mouth opens and closes like a fish as he angles toward me. “You were right, he’s alive?”
I nod. His gaze swings back and forth between me and Garrett, and then he lunges in Garrett’s direction, enveloping him in a hug. “Holy shit, man. You’re alive.” Garrett stands immobile while Jason steps back to look him up and down. “She said you were alive, but I didn’t believe it.”
“Why would you?” Garrett asks. “You stood on the bank of the river while my car slowly sank. Who would survive an accident like that?”
Jason presses his lips together, shaking his head slowly. “I tried to get to you, man.”
Garrett cocks his head. “Did you? Or did you think it was a stroke of luck that I took the fall—literally—for you?”
Jason’s eye twitches. “What do you mean? The fall for what?” He shoots a glance in my direction.
“For the drugs, Jason,” I cut in. “The ones you stole from Waylon.”
The flush starts at his ears and moves inward. “What are you talking about? Drugs?” He scoffs. “I didn’t steal any drugs. Those were stolen from me .” He leans out the door, glancing up and down the block. “Look, why don’t you come inside, and we can talk.”
Garrett shrugs. “I’m good here.”
Jason swings the door wider. “Come on, man. This is amazing. You’re alive . How did you survive that water?”
“I didn’t,” Garrett says, his voice flat.
“I pushed an empty car over the cliff and took the fall because if Waylon knew you were the one who lost the drugs, he was going to kill you. Turns out, I should have let him.” His gaze sweeps down to Jason’s feet and back to his face. “I guess there’s still time.”
Jason’s shoulders hike up to his ears and his feet shift from one foot to the other like he can’t stand still. “Seriously, man, come inside.”
I can’t watch this anymore. “Jason, we know.”
He whirls around. “You know what?”
I stare him down. “We know you’ve been trafficking drugs, we know you set Adam up to take the fall, and we know you’ve been stealing from Waylon ever since.”
Jason’s face is bright red now, and he’s twitching like he’s on the cocaine he’s been trafficking. He’s whirling back and forth, looking from me to Garrett and back. “You don’t know shit.”
“We know everything, we have proof, and soon Waylon’s going to know, too,” I say. I hold up his key card and let it dangle from my fingers. “You didn’t notice this was gone? We found your stash, and your notebook.”
“Look,” Jason says, his shoulders rising and falling almost as if he can no longer control them.
“Okay. Look. I may have skimmed a little of the boss’s stash, but I never set Adam up.
I never would have done that.” His pleading eyes swing to Garrett.
“We were best friends. I took you in, remember? Please, man. Don’t tell Waylon.
You know he’ll kill me.” Jason’s breath comes in heavy gasps, and he bends over to suck more air into his lungs.
Garrett cocks his head as if he’s considering Jason’s plea. “Okay, I won’t tell Waylon.”
Jason flings his body upright. “Seriously?”
“You can tell him yourself,” Garrett says. “Or you can tell the cops. Waylon will know you’re the one who sold him out, but maybe they’ll protect you.”
At that moment, a loud voice calls out, “Don’t move!” From behind Garrett, four FBI agents wearing bullet-proof vests and carrying black handguns appear.
Garrett rushes to my side, and I throw myself into his arms, shaking uncontrollably.
“It’s over,” I whisper, taking his face in my hands, my gaze lingering on those blue eyes, that strong jaw, the dark hair waving over the nape of his neck. “No more running, no more hiding.”