Chapter Fourteen
Danny
“I want a hero: an uncommon want,
When every year and month sends forth a new one.”
-Lord Byron
* * *
Sam and I don’t talk on the way to the hotel. Sam says she sorry, I say I’m glad I found her, and we leave it at that for the drive.
But we both know a confrontation is coming.
The impending meltdown hangs thick in the silence, as ominous as the black storm clouds gathering behind the mountains on the other side of Lake Taupo, making the snow-capped peaks look even brighter against the bruised sky.
I park near the main lodge and we walk up the gravel trail side by side, but not touching or holding hands the way we usually would. When we arrive at our cabin, there’s a note on the door apologizing that the heat still isn’t fixed and another two bundles of firewood on the mat, but Sam and I don’t talk about that either. We just let ourselves into the cold room and I get to work building a fire while Sam starts water and makes tea.
I hardly ever drink tea, but when she hands me the cup of cloudy brown liquid, it smells good—sane, and I could use some sanity right now. I sit in the armchair that doesn’t have a view of the bed—I can’t stand to look at it and think about how good things were this morning—and take a sip. I close my eyes, relishing the way the hot water burns a trail down my throat and the honey aftertaste lingers on my tongue.
It’s time to say something, but I don’t know what to say, how to start to tackle this.
It feels like everything is on the verge of unraveling. I don’t want to pull at any of the threads for fear I’ll start something I won’t be able to fix, but we can’t stay like this. Sam has been lying to me and is headed down a path that will damage her life and royally fuck our future.
If it isn’t fucked already…
Something in the set of her chin since she got into the car makes me feel like she’s still running away from me. She’s with me in body, but her mind is somewhere else, thinking things she might never tell me.
She’s getting so good at keeping secrets…
When I open my eyes and meet her gaze across the low table nestled between the armchairs, I have no clue what she’s thinking. It’s the most awful, foreign feeling. It’s like a part of my own body has gone to sleep and I can’t feel it anymore; that’s how insane it is to look at my best friend, since I was thirteen, and feel shut out of her heart.
“I’m sorry,” she says, but her eyes are still glassy, reflecting my own hurt, but showing me nothing of what she’s feeling. “I panicked. I wasn’t thinking straight or I wouldn’t have run off like that. It was stupid. I promise it won’t happen again.”
“Promise.” I bite my bottom lip. “I’m not sure I can trust your promises anymore. I’m not even sure who you are right now, Sam.”
“Don’t say that,” she says, in this calm voice that makes me want to throw my mug across the room. How can she act like this isn’t a big deal? How can she sit there and look at me like I’m the one being crazy? “Nothing has changed. I’m still the same person.”
“No, you’re not.” My chest is so tight I have to concentrate on relaxing my muscles to pull in a deep breath. “The Sam I know would never have put herself in this kind of position. What were you thinking? You could go to prison. You know that, right?”
I wait for a response, for some sign that maybe she didn’t realize what a serious mistake she was making, but she just sits there staring at me with those guarded eyes.
“Seriously, Sam,” I continue in a harder voice. “The federal justice system doesn’t fuck around. If you ignore a subpoena, they can put you in prison. Not county correctional or state lockup—prison, with women who will eat you for breakfast.”
“I know,” she says with a tired sigh. “But it’s not as simple as it sounds. There are…other factors, things that—”
“Is it because of Alec?” My grip tightens on my mug until my fingertips start to burn. “Are you protecting him? Because if you are, you should rethink that decision. Real quick. He’s not your brother. You don’t owe him anything. And that son of a bitch certainly wouldn’t stick his neck out for you if you were the one in trouble.”
“I know,” Sam says, chin tipping down as she stares into her mug of tea. “That’s part of the reason I left. He and his friends need me to testify. They think it will get them off the hook.”
“How?” I ask, more confused than ever. “What do—”
“I don’t know. They’re crazy.” She shakes her head but doesn’t lift her eyes to mine. “I don’t think anything I have to say will reflect well on them, but the lawyers think differently. I don’t know, maybe I’m the crazy one. Either way…I can’t do it. It would be too hard, and it wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t bring Deidre back.”
I prop my elbows on my knees and lean forward. “Was she your friend?”
Sam tucks her chin even tighter to her chest. “No,” she whispers. “I barely knew her, but I felt awful when I found out she’d killed herself. She seemed like a sweet person. She was majoring in PT and wanted to start her own clinic. She had a boyfriend back in Utah she talked to every night and lots of friends…”
She draws in a ragged breath. “She was just…innocent. She couldn’t take everything that happened and knowing everyone had seen it on the campus website before they took it down…”
Sam trails off and after a moment I realize she’s crying—soft, nearly silent tears, nothing like the way she usually cries.
I push the table out of the way and set my tea down before going to my knees in front of her.
“It’s okay, babe.” I take her tea, setting it next to mine before bringing my hands to rest on her knees through her jeans. “I know this has to be hard. But if Alec and his friends did this to her, and you know something, you have to go back and testify. Rape is bad enough, but five big guys ganging up on one girl like that…”
Sam’s shoulders shudder silently.
“They’re monsters, Sam,” I continue in a gentle voice. “They deserve to go to jail for the rest of their lives for what they’ve done.”
“But what if they don’t?” she asks in a sharp tone as she finally looks up at me, her eyes glittering with grief and rage. “What if they get off and get away with it? You know how trials like this go. They’re going to try to prove that Deidre was a slut who’d been screwing her boyfriend since she was thirteen and deserved what she got. They’ll say she was asking for it. Or so drunk the boys couldn’t tell she wasn’t into it, or something.”
She swipes the back of her hand across her cheeks, smearing her tears. “Then I will have sat up there and told the truth for nothing. Deidre is already dead; I’m not. I just want to move forward and stop letting Alec’s mistake ruin my entire life.”
I shake my head, genuinely shocked. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you.”