57. June
57
JUNE
“ W e will live happily ever after, Anderson.”
“You really think so? Even after all the crazy shit that’s happened to us?”
I smile and nod. “That’s exactly why we will. We got the crazy shit out of the way already.”
He laughs and kisses me, and I don’t even care that the photographer is capturing the moment. I’m too damn happy right now. Anderson murmurs, “That guy has to go.”
“It’s fine. In fifty years, when we’ve forgotten about today, we’ll have the pictures to look at.”
But then Anderson shakes his head. “I’ll never forget today, June. Or our wedding day. Or the day I met you. I might forget my own name, but I’ll never forget a minute I spend with you.”
I swallow hard, trying not to cry again. I managed to keep it subtle when he gave his speech, but now? No. I can’t do that again. Instead, I give him a peck of a kiss, and we relax into the beat of the song.
With my head on Anderson’s shoulder, it’s hard not to feel sublimely happy. Even with all the eyes on us, I am still relaxed. He makes me this way. Braver than I’ve ever known. Happier, too.
Maybe my father is calculating some scheme. Maybe Elliot said all those nice things to butter me up for some dastardly plan of his own. Our fathers can pull strings and manipulate another day. Today, they’re both on their best behavior, and I’m grateful for it. Truly, they were the last two people I expected to be well-behaved today, and they’re knocking it out of the park. Tag is a douche, but at least he didn’t try to make a speech. Out of everyone else here, they’re the only ones I worry about. Everyone else has been lovely.
Today truly is a magical day.
I lean up, smiling. “I love you, husband.”
He smiles down at me. “I love you, too, wife.” He kisses me just like I wanted, and like him, it’s perfect. Everything about today is?—
Charles dashes into the tent, coming toward us. Breathlessly, he pants, “I tried to stop them.”
“Who?” Anderson asks.
But then the tent flaps are held back by uniformed police officers. Detectives Banks and Wachowski stroll in like they own the place. At first, my brain doesn’t register what’s happening or that I’m really seeing them. I blink a lot, trying to figure it all out. “Is that?—"
“Yes,” he says hoarsely. Then, louder, he asks, “What are you two doing here?”
But we know, don’t we? They’re here to ruin everything.
Banks says, “We have a warrant for your arrest, Mr. West, on suspicion of the murder of Neil Johnson. Turn around, please.”
Anderson closes his eyes as he turns around. “Is this really necessary? Where am I going to go? We’re at my wedding reception.”
Wachowski puts on shiny handcuffs on my husband’s wrists and sneers, “No, it’s not necessary.” He closes in next to Anderson’s ear. “It’s just fun.”
Detective Banks turns to me. “Congratulations on your nuptials, Mrs. West.”
“What is the meaning of this?” Elliot barks as he joins us on the dancefloor.
“Pretty sure you know all about it, West,” Wachowski snaps. “Don’t think your son is the only one going down for this.”
Elliot is undeterred. He snarls at the detectives, “I will have your badge for this. Yours too, and anyone else who helped plan this embarrassment!”
“You’re welcome to try,” Detective Banks says. “But when a case is this solid, it’s in your best interest to let bygones be bygones. Come along, Mr. West.” He gives Anderson a nudge toward the exit. He’s being taken away from me, and there’s nothing I can do.
I’m speechless. What can I possibly say to make any of this better? There’s nothing … except, “I love you, Anderson. We will get this figured out!”
“I love you, June!” he shouts as they take him outside.
Elliot turns to me. “We are getting him back.”
All I can do is nod. I can’t even see him anymore. He’s blurry behind the wall of tears in my eyes.
But then I hear Kitty and Dad joining us. She has the microphone. “Thank you all for coming. As you have witnessed, we are experiencing a family emergency. We appreciate your understanding at this time. Please drive home safe.” After that, she comes to me, throwing her arms around me.
I’m not even sure if I’m hugging her back. I don’t feel like I’m in my body right now.
Kitty releases me, and it’s Dad’s turn to hug me. “Junebug, I’m so sorry.”
I blink at him.
“The first arrest is always the worst.”
My voice scrapes out of my throat. “First?”
He realizes what he just said and apologetically says, “Given the charges, hopefully, it’ll be the only arrest.”
I gulp, and something in me breaks. I don’t know what it is exactly, but sobs burst out of me. I can’t even catch my breath until Kitty rubs my back. The world presses into me from all directions, and I’m not strong enough to hold it back. My strength was just arrested and taken away from me.
The crowd isn’t disbursing like Kitty told them to, either, and that does not help. Instead, their murmurs fill my head. “Did I hear that right? Murder ?”
“Neil Johnson … wasn’t that the poor boy beaten to death we heard about on the news? Surely that wasn’t Anderson!”
“He’s always been a hothead, but beating someone to death? I don’t think he’s capable of something like that.”
“He was a little shit back in school. I don’t know. Maybe.”
“I bet he did it. The guy probably looked at him wrong, and boom.”
Their words bite at me. It is like being nibbled to death by ducks. I want to scream at them to leave. If anyone has the perfect excuse to shout at a crowd of strangers, it’s me. But if I do that, I don’t know if I can keep my mouth shut about Neil.
Anderson is the hero who saved me from the villain, and I can’t say shit about that yet.
The truth is dying to come out of me, and I’m on the brink of screaming it when Tag walks up to me. He tips his head to the side. “Wanna get out of here?”
Elliot stiffly says, “I appreciate the kindness, Tag, but June is our family now. We will take care of her.”
Cole—I hadn’t noticed when he joined us—tells Tag, “Thanks, man, but we’ve got her. Think you can find out some details from your dad?”
“I’ll do what I can.” Tag walks off, calling his father.
Cole puts his arm around me. “Okay, Mrs. West, how about we get you in the house?”
I know the words he said, but I can’t make sense of them. “Why?”
“Because today has been one heck of a day, and you need rest.”
I huff a laugh. “You think I can sleep ever again?”
“That’s the spirit,” he says with false cheeriness. “Come on. You’re my new sister, and Anderson will kill me if I don’t take care of you.”
I shrug and let him guide me into the house. Thankfully, most of the guests take other paths out to their cars, so we don’t see too many people inside the house. We walk upstairs, or rather, Cole helps me up the stairs because I keep shuffling for some reason, and he takes me to a bedroom.
One look around, and I know it’s Anderson’s childhood bedroom. Navy blue walls and a matching checked bedspread. There’s a Ferrari poster over his bed. His trophies line the remaining walls, along with his pictures with his friends … it’s all so perfect and so him that I bawl uncontrollably.
Cole mutters, “Okay, bad choice. Come on.” He ushers me out of that bedroom and into the one next door. “Nothing bad in here. It’s just a guest room.”
When I pry my eyes open, I see what he means. It’s as neutral as can be—more gray and white in every direction. The bed looks big and inviting, and even though the thought of holding still right now sounds like hell, I think I need that bed. But how can I sleep without Anderson? I mumble, “Can’t sleep without him.”
Cole sighs. “I’m going to get you some food and a glass of water and some of those pills Mom uses to sleep when Dad isn’t around, okay? And I’ll check for some mood stabilizers while I’m at it. Pretty sure we could all use those right about now. I’ll be right back.” He runs off down the hall.
None of this feels real. My husband whisked me away to this giant estate, where people said nice things, and others arrested him. None of this makes any sense. How could they do this to us? My husband is a hero, dammit.
But they won’t know that until I tell them. Maybe it’s time for me to come clean. I might go to prison for hiding a body, but who fucking cares? I can’t let him take the blame for this. It was self-defense. Surely a jury would see … oh god. Would they?
Cole returns with pajamas, pills, and water. “Here we go. Just … use all of this at your leisure, June. My room is just on the other side of that wall. You don’t even have to call me. You can just knock. I’ll come check on you, okay?”
Numbly, I nod. As he leaves, I manage to say, “Thank you, Cole.”
He smiles. “You don’t have to thank family, June. But you’re welcome. And we’re going to get him back. You’ll see.” He closes the door behind himself.
What the hell am I supposed to do now?