fact, they’re going to paint you as a criminal, and right now, in a court of law, you have everything stacked against you. Kat and her family’s team are on it. My family’s team is on it. You’re going to be untouchable, babe. I promise you.”
That news is the final piece that does me in. It prompts the dam to break, and I start crying. Right there with a scalding mug of tea in my hands, I break down, and for the first time since I woke up from the accident, I have someone there to hold me and put me back together.
I have two people, actually.
It’s official. Kat and Vera have set everything in motion. It’s only a matter of time before the shit hits the fan. And even though I’ve been waiting for this moment, it doesn’t feel as great as I thought it would. I’m not as happy or as relieved as I imagined I’d be. Instead, my stomach is tied in knots, a feeling of dread sinking in my gut.
Shaking it off, I tighten the coat around my shoulders. The brisk New York air whips my hair across my face, abrading my skin. I’m on my way to a meeting with Kat’s family lawyer at her father’s building on 5th Avenue, and even though they have a car service and drivers, I opted to walk instead. I’ve missed the air here. The crowded streets. The fast-paced life that’s worlds different from where I grew up.
Yesterday was the first time I’ve been cast free since all this mess began, and I want to soak it in for as long as possible. Walking on a freshly healed leg and hip may not be the brightest idea, but I’m craving the feeling of concrete beneath the soles of my shoes.
Although it feels good to be out here, a part of me still misses Los Angeles. I miss the lights, the hills, the trees, but most of all, I miss Baz. I’m like a broken record, and I know that. But after today, I don’t know what will happen to them, and just the mere idea of never speaking to Baz again rips my heart in half.
How can I feel this way about him and not hate myself?
“Mackenzie?”
My shoulders tense at the sound of that voice, my entire body going rigid. Slowly, I turn, facing one of the many monsters of my childhood. One of the Savages.
“Stay back!” I shoot my arm out between us, trying to keep Marcus away from me. His face softens, and he raises his hands in the air in an act of surrender.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m just here to talk, I promise.”
I eye him warily, my heart racing in my chest, trying to figure out what he could possibly be here—all the way in New York—to say. My stomach churns with fear as I glance around at the busy patrons of New York, all too busy in their own lives to realize something is amiss. When I look back at Marcus, he adopts the sincerest face a monster can muster.
“Can we sit and talk? Please?” He jerks his chin toward a small juicing shop. Against my better judgment, I nod, following him inside. The place is packed with people waiting in line for their organic drinks. That’s probably a good thing. The more people we have around to witness this, the better.
I take the seat across from him at one of the few empty tables and just stare. He’s different from the teenager I knew back in Ferndale, but as I stare at him, he’s still a lot of the same. I still see that boy, that same bully. Images come to mind, sporadic flashes of his hand clasped around my throat, threatening me with cruel words, all to keep my mouth shut.
“Did you finally quit that awful smoking habit?”
He blows out a sigh, knowing exactly what I’m referring to. I don’t know what he thinks he can say that would change my mind about him, about any of them. There’s nothing he can say that’ll make me trust him. They’re murderers, and they need to be taken care of—put in their place.
“I’m not that kid anymore, Mackenzie. I was…I was fucking scared. We all were.”
“Scared of what exactly?” I ask, spite spewing from my tone. “Scared that I’d find out the truth maybe? That you all killed my sister?”
He darts his gaze around, making sure no one heard that. “We didn’t kill your sister,