21. Savannah
Chapter 21
Savannah
A t what point do I decide to give up? I wonder, as I walk out of the courtroom, reporters swarming the entrance, all thrusting microphones in my face.
I don’t bother reacting to their questions because they are so outrageous. My mind is reeling from the shock that they could even ask such things.
Did I kill my fiancé because I was jealous that he was sleeping with another woman?
Did I kill him because I didn’t want anyone else to have him?
Do I think that Michael Stone will get me off the hook?
Have I killed anyone before Brandon Portman?
At what point do I surrender myself and plead guilty, knowing that it is the path I am heading down?
“Get in,” Michael touches my shoulder.
Depending on muscle memory, I lower myself and slip into the car. He gets in, and the door closes, putting us in semi-darkness. I embrace the transition from the bright sun to hide my tears.
“Savannah?”
“How many years will a plea deal get me?”
“What?”
I exhale. “How many years will I get if I take a plea?”
I hear my voice like it’s far away. No emotions. Not when my mind is scrubbed raw.
“You are not taking a plea deal, Savannah.”
A harsh laughter bursts from my gut. “I’m not? Why? How? Because you’re going to get me off? I get that you think you can do anything, but you heard them.”
“You were in the courtroom, Michael. First, they find the murder weapon in my house. Then they say that Eric cannot be the murderer because he is left-handed and a right-handed person inflicted the wounds on Brandon’s body.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re the one who killed him. The jury hasn’t heard all the evidence yet,” I try to convince her.
“Sure. Do I smile about that? Do I laugh? Tell me, Michael.” I say feeling like I am losing my mind.
He sighs. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Exactly,” I say, gesturing wildly with my hands. “You don’t know what to say, and you don’t know what to do either. You know what, I think we should be asking about a plea deal just to get this over with because it’s looking like I won’t be escorted into a car after the next time we are in court.”
Michael doesn’t say anything else. Although I’m the reason for his silence, it infuriates me so much I turn to the window, shutting him out. With my head against the seat and my eyes seeing the swarm of hungry reporters clamoring for a glimpse of the “murderer,” more tears pour down my cheeks.
But I choke back the sobs, refusing to let anyone see me weak.
I might not have hope but I will hold on to the last shred of dignity I have until the end.
***
I don’t know why I’m here.
I should be in my motel room, wallowing in self-pity and disgust that I trusted a man so much he became my downfall.
Perhaps that is why I’m here, seated next to Alice in this loud club with bright lights and so many people clinging to one another.
“I’m sorry. When I said we should come to the club, I didn’t think it was going to…” she exhales. “I shouldn’t have suggested a club. I just thought the crowd and noise would help.”
I fake a smile. The noise is helping because I no longer feel like I’m alone in the world, stranded on a strip of land that stretches out as far as my eye can see.
Now I feel like I’m suffocating, and the people around me are the bars of the prison cell where I will eventually end up. On the other hand, it also reminds me that while everyone is living their lives, I am fighting for mine.
I might have been better off staying at home. I mean at the motel.
“I’m sorry,” Alice says again, her face ashen with regret.
I know she is trying to help, so I make my smile wider. And I shake my head. “It’s okay. I like it. Better a place like this than somewhere quiet.”
“Because of your thoughts?” She asks.
I nod. “Yes.”
She sighs. “I want to help, but I feel like no matter what I do, it’s useless.” Before I can lie to her again, she adds, “I heard about the case today…that Eric is no longer a suspect. I really thought he was the one.”
Right.
“Thought, or you wanted him to be the one because you feel guilty for getting me into this mess?” My voice has a frosty tinge as the words come flying out.
Alice’s face falls, and I see her eyes glisten with tears, making me feel guilty immediately. I wanted someone to blame for today, and I lashed out at her.
“I’m sorry,” It’s my turn to apologize. “We’ve put that behind us.”
“Oh, it’s okay,” she says in a small voice, shaking her head. “I deserve it. I’m to blame for what you are going through now. After all, if I didn’t…if I didn’t sleep with him, you two would have gotten married, and he would still be alive today.”
The corners of my mouth turn downwards at her words. By implication, she is saying that if Brandon and I were together, he would still be alive.
Anyone hearing her would come to only one conclusion—that I killed him because we’re not together anymore.
I exhale in exasperation.
First, Michael with his words.
“You are not taking a plea deal.”
Now Alice.
“I need a stiff drink,” I mutter.
She shoots up from the stool. “I’ll go get one. Two even.” Then she shakes her head. “As many as you want.”
I dismiss her with a half-wave. “A bottle would do. A bottle of something strong.” I mumble.
The eagerness in her eyes irks me. “Okay.”
Then she scampers off. As soon as she leaves, someone takes her seat—a man with sagging pants and a scrawny beard.
“Hi, beautiful.”
I roll my eyes.
“You don’t speak?” He asks rudely.
I sigh, holding my words from slipping through.
Then he lets out a low whistle. “Wait a minute. Aren’t you the chick that killed her fiancé because he was banging someone else? Damn,” he rubs his beard, “What are you doing here?”
I gag when he leans close, his breath smelling like he just threw up in his mouth.
“Trying to get some before they lock you up? I hear there isn’t any of this,” he gestures to his crotch, “where you’re going. I’ll give it to you for free if you want. I ain’t stingy.” He grins and I see his not-so-white teeth.
Before I can take action to get him away from my personal space, a force yanks him backward so hard he crashes to the ground. Then I see a bottle coming down with force crashing onto his head as he tries to get up.
And at the end of the bottle, I see Alice.
“Alice?” I say, shocked.
She takes my hand, and I have no choice but to stand up. The only thing I note as we storm out is the crazy look in her eyes. When we get outside, she lets my hand go.
And crumbles to the ground, her whole body shuddering.
Confused but more concerned, I crouch beside her. “Alice? What’s wrong?”
“I…I,” her voice trembles. “I broke a bottle on his head, and I saw blood. I saw blood, Savannah. Do you think they are going to call the cops on me?”
The cops?
The scene strikes me as comical and a laugh bursts out of my chest.
“You are one badass chick. Where have you been hiding her.” I run my fingers through my hair, whistling. “But you’re shaking.”
She looks at me. “I was holding the bottle and two glasses and then I saw him getting too close to you. The next thing I know, the glasses were on the floor, and then I grabbed him,” she exhales. “It’s a bit of a blur after that. Whew!”
My head falls back as a peal of continuous laughter pours out of me, my shoulders shaking. I get up, cleaning my hands on my pants.
“I mean, you’re shaking, but that was one hell of a thing you did back there.”
When she looks at me with shining eyes, I soften. “Really?”
I nod. “Yup.”
Then I stretch out my hand, offering to help her stand up. As soon as she does, I instinctively pull her into my arms for a tight hug, and the waterworks start again. Alice says nothing, offering her arms as solace while I cry my eyes out.
She doesn’t let go until I’m done.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
She nods, and then I see her eyes glistening.
“You’re welcome. I’m sorry, Savannah. I know I did you wrong, I do. But I want to be there for you. I want to be the person you run to when you are in a tight corner and when you want a shoulder to lean on. Please?”
For the first time, I don’t feel any reservations. The pain from being betrayed melts until there’s only a remnant left. It reminds me of when we were close, right from my final year in college up until I found out she was sleeping with Brandon.
“Please?” She begs. “I need a friend too.”
“Okay,” I smile.
“Okay!” Alice squeezes me tight until I cannot breathe.
It takes a couple of taps before she lets me go. “Do you want to go get ice cream?”
“Ice cream?” I ask.
“Yeah. Ice cream helps me when I want to get my mind off a terrible day. I’ve had a lot of those recently.”
I could do with some ice cream.
“Okay.”
Alice fist-pumps the air, and I chuckle, feeling lighter in the swell of the night breeze than I have felt in a long time. I even have hope—just a glimmer—that everything will be alright.