5. Veronica
5
Veronica
“ Behind every closed door lies a story waiting to be unearthed. Join us in our relentless pursuit of truth, as we navigate the murky waters of deception, intrigue, and murder. Tune in next week for another chapter in the ever-unfolding saga as we seek justice for Marissa Wheeler. Until then, stay curious, stay safe, and keep questioning the narratives. The truth is out there, waiting to be discovered. You just have to be brave enough to look for it. Until next time, truth seekers.”
“You really enjoy this shit?” Miles asks as the episode of my true crime podcast wraps up.
Shocked, my mouth drops open. “You don’t?”
“Listening to people talk about the misfortunes of others, all while being reminded of how shitty and fucked up this world is? No, thanks.”
My lips curl into a subtle pout. “So, I take it this means you don’t want to listen to the next episode?”
Not only am I dying to find out what happens next, but it also made the last hour of our drive fly by. It was especially handy since this portion of the drive isn't exactly my favorite as we pass through the vast California desert.
“No, I really don’t. This part of the drive is depressing enough. The last thing I need is to listen to the gruesome details of how someone went missing and is likely gone forever. What I don’t get is how someone like you can be into all this.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Someone like me?”
“Yes, someone like you. Little Miss Bubbly Princess with constant sunshine shooting out of her ass isn’t exactly who I’d peg as someone who enjoys hearing about death and murder.”
While part of me questions whether that should be taken as a compliment, I smile despite myself. “You know, women are pretty interesting creatures and are actually known for enjoying a diverse array of things. We’re perfectly capable of loving Disney movies with their sweet love stories and happily ever afters, just as much as we enjoy the feeling of our hearts racing in anticipation as we listen to mysteries and unsolved crimes. If anything, we need this shit so we can better learn how to protect ourselves.”
“I don’t know. I still don’t understand getting enjoyment out of listening to something so sad and depressing. For me, it only ramps up my anxiety since all I can think about is something like that happening to Blair.”
I frown. “First off, nothing like that is ever going to happen to Blair. There’s something about you badass Bennetts that gives off an air of ‘don’t mess with me or else,’ and I’m pretty sure most people would be afraid to mess with Blair. And if someone did, we’d both go Liam Neeson on their ass and hunt them down,” I remind him, doing my best to lighten the mood and ease his worry. “Secondly, I wouldn’t necessarily say I get enjoyment out of it. It’s sad and depressing a lot of the time, but I think it’s important to know about these things and not forget that these kinds of tragedies do exist. These people deserve to be remembered, and their killers brought to justice.”
“I don’t know. It’s still not my thing.” He shrugs, focusing on the road while I rummage through my stash, reaching for the bag of Red Vines.
“It wasn’t Pete’s thing either,” I admit, going against what I’d told him earlier as I offer one of the red sticks in his direction.
He looks over at me, his gaze drifting toward the candy, and while I think he’s about to decline yet again, he ultimately lifts one hand from the wheel and accepts.
“You know, I’m not sure I like hearing that I possibly have something in common with your ex-fiancé,” he says with a grimace before taking a bite.
I chuckle softly. “No worries there, because that’s probably the only similar thing about the two of you.”
While Miles has that tall, muscular blond thing going on, with a body to rival a Greek god, Pete feels like his exact opposite. Not that Pete’s bad-looking—his warm brown, always neatly styled hair and green eyes make him the kind of handsome you’d proudly introduce to your parents and friends. But let’s face it, if you were to line up Miles and Pete side by side, most women would gravitate toward Miles, even with his signature broody glare that practically screams, I’m emotionally unavailable, but good luck resisting me . Of course, that only adds to his appeal. Who doesn’t want a mysterious bad boy who looks like he could bench-press you with one arm?
Okay, so maybe Miles isn’t your textbook bad boy. Truth be told, I probably racked up way more detentions and made a million more questionable decisions in my teenage years than he ever did. But that certainly didn’t stop the good people of Evergreen from painting him as some kind of rebel-without-a-cause. It’s funny how being quiet and having sharp cheekbones can instantly make you more “dangerous” in a small town. Okay, that, and his family’s stigma. But even with him doing absolutely nothing to warrant such a reputation, everyone seemed to go out of their way to avoid him.
“I guess I should feel relieved about that. Dude’s a fucking loser. I still don’t understand how you almost got married to him, let alone dated him,” he says with a small shiver.
“I don’t know,” I say, barely above a whisper, doing my best not to let his words sting as my smile instantly falters. Sure, he has a point, but that doesn’t mean the pain isn’t still a little too fresh.
He looks over at me, his face falling with realization. “Vee,” he says, remorse written across his features. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, it’s fine. I was stupid. I don’t even know why it took me so long to see just how wrong we were for each other—”
Before I can say another word, he cuts me off, his voice sharp as his blue eyes burn with intensity as he glances my way. “You shouldn’t think like that. None of this is on you, not one bit. This is all him. He’s the one to blame. He’s the one who’s broken. That guy couldn’t be right for anyone, not now, not ever, because he’s a selfish, narcissistic asshole who’s been that way since we were kids. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself, and he never will.”
My brows furrow in surprise. I figured Miles would jump at the chance to chew me out and tell me how stupid I’ve been. After all, he’s never had a problem calling me out for all the dumb choices I made while growing up.
“I just wish I hadn’t missed all those early red flags,” I carefully answer. Clearly, Miles would love to put all the blame on Pete, but I’m the one responsible for my own decisions, and I’m the one who chose him as a partner. This is on me , even if I wish I could place the blame elsewhere.
“You think you’re the first person he ever manipulated?” he asks with a loud scoff. “I may not have put myself out there in high school, but I watched and kept a close eye on the people and things going on around me, and he’s fooled plenty of people over the years. I’m sure that’s exactly why he does so well in politics. He’s good at showing people the persona he wants them to see, when in reality, he’s got his own sick ideas and agenda going on behind the scenes.”
I bristle, sitting up straight, and feeling oddly protective. “You know, not all people in politics are horrible. My dad’s a genuinely good guy and wants nothing but the best for the people of Evergreen Grove.”
“Your dad is the exception. Most people aren’t like him,” he explains, and I can feel a gradual smile returning to my face. But as my thoughts linger on my dad, the smile quickly fades, replaced almost immediately with a frown.
“Ugh, I don’t even want to think about this anymore. As hard as it is to think about Pete, I feel even worse and guilty about how I left. I didn’t even tell my parents what I was doing before I ran. Can you believe that?”
“I don’t think you need to worry about them,” Miles tries to assure me, reaching out to give my knee a light pat. But his words do little to ease the anxiety bubbling inside me.
“I let them pay for an entire wedding just to bolt. I can’t even imagine how they’re feeling,” I say, my voice trembling as I turn to stare out the window, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. Sure, I managed to send a quick text to let them know I was okay and safe, but I’ve yet to bring myself to pick up the phone when it rings. The thought of hearing their voices—hurt, confused, disappointed—feels like way more than I can handle.
“If your parents are as amazing as Blair says, I’m sure they’re more relieved than anything. You’re lucky. Not everyone has parents who give a shit about them, and if they’ve seen the side of Pete that I know he’s shown the rest of us, then I’m sure no amount of money is worth the relief they must feel at not having to watch their daughter marry some asshole.”
Great, now I get to feel horrible about this too. Here I am complaining to the guy with the world’s shittiest parents. Sure, he could be wrong, and my parents could be fuming over the amount of money that was put into my wedding, but even with the guilt eating me alive, deep down, I know without a doubt that my parents still love me. They’re probably disappointed, maybe even resentful right now, but eventually, they’ll come around. Not everyone has that kind of certainty, and for that, I’m blessed.
“And please don’t use this moment to apologize to me too,” he says, apparently reading my mind. While I’m used to having this kind of connection with his sister, I can’t say I ever expected Miles Bennett to know me just as well. “I’m not looking to get into a game of who has it worse. All that matters is I have Blair, and she’s all the family I need.”
“What if I wasn’t going to apologize, huh?” I ask, deciding to go the immature route as I take an over-exaggerated bite of my Red Vine. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
“You were Blair’s shadow growing up...” he starts, but pauses, taking a moment to correct himself. “Or maybe she was yours, but just like I said, I’ve always been good at paying attention to the people around me. That’s precisely why every single time the two of you got yourselves into trouble, I knew it was you at the helm, even if everyone else always liked to pin the blame on Blair.”
“You know that was never my intention, right? To get her in trouble, I mean. I love Blair, and I’d never do anything to purposely hurt her or make her life harder.”
“It may not have ever been your intention, but sometimes when you make shitty choices, you have to deal with the consequences. In fact, I think that’s always been your problem. You don’t think things through, you just do it and deal with the repercussions later,” he says, a clear sense of bitterness lacing his tone.
I open my mouth to argue, but it’s hard to deny that he has a point as my chest tightens, the guilt nearly suffocating me. “I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’m sorry I’ve hurt Blair,” I say, my voice shaking. “God, and I’m so fucking sorry for dragging you into my mess and forcing you on this stupid road trip with me. If you want, we can turn around. Or just—just drop me off at the nearest airport or car rental place. I’ll figure it out from there,” I add, my emotions reaching their breaking point as they finally spill over.
“Stop, Veronica,” he commands, his jaw hardening as he shakes his head. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. You don’t always have to make such rash decisions based on temporary feelings that are bound to change. And sorry to break it to you, but you’re not getting rid of me that easily. We’re going on this goddamn road trip, and I’m going to Disneyland with or without you,” he continues, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile as he attempts to lighten the tense atmosphere I’ve created.
“You actually want to hang out with me now?” I ask, not even remotely convinced.
“I wouldn’t go that far. I’m in it for the rides, the ocean, and those amazing Disneyland churros you’ve been raving about. You’re just the consolation prize.”
“If you say so.” As glad as I should be that he’s not chomping at the bit to get rid of me, all my brain can focus on is how he just psychoanalyzed me—and the worst part is, he was dead on.
“You want to listen to some more Taylor, or maybe another episode of that weird-ass podcast?” he asks, clearly trying to cheer me up.
“No, you pick,” I say, letting my head rest against the window. “I think I might try to take a nap.”
“You sure?”
“Yep,” I say, closing my eyes.
I need a break, and I’m sure he needs one from me as well. Just because he’s attempting to be nice doesn't mean he actually cares. This conversation only reminded me that the two of us aren’t actually friends, nor does he probably want to be. He’s only sticking this out because he feels like he has to. That, or he really does want to explore California, and I’m his excuse. Like usual, I’m nothing more than an inconvenience who continually makes his life harder. Apparently, some things never change.