The Secrets of Lake Road - Karen Katchur Page 0,106

the lake. He hit his head when you pushed him.”

“No,” he said, and grabbed her arms. “You’re wrong.”

She struggled to pull herself free. “Patricia saw you. She saw the whole thing that night. He was alive after I left, and she can prove it.”

He gripped her biceps tight and looked as though he was trying to work out what she was telling him.

“She saw you push him. Not me.” She yanked her arms free. “She saw you push him.” She cried. “And what about his arm, Kev? What did you do to his arm?”

“I think he hurt it when we were fighting on the pier,” he said.

But she wasn’t looking for an answer. All she wanted was to get as far away from him as she could. She couldn’t stand to be near him for one second more. All these years he let her believe she was the one to blame for Billy’s death. But it was him. It was his fault.

She took off running. She entered the woods a few feet from the path, tripping through the bush until she found the narrow trail.

He wasn’t far behind. His feet stomped the ground, heavy and uncertain. She could outrun him if he were drunk, and she lengthened her stride, losing her flip-flops along the way. They were too hard to run in anyway.

“Jo, wait,” he called. “I can explain.”

She kept running. Why wasn’t Cougar barking, alerting everyone there was someone in the woods? She wanted someone, anyone, to know she was there, she wasn’t to blame.

She reached Lake Road and darted across. She stumbled into the ballpark. She was a few steps away from the dirt road that led into the colony, a few steps away from the cabins when Kevin caught up to her. His feet tangled with hers, tripping her from behind. Her body hit the ground with a thud.

He moved on top of her. She tried to roll him off, twisting and turning, wrestling her way out from under him. He grabbed her shoulders and flipped her onto her back, pinning her hips with his weight. Sweat dripped from his nose and chin.

“Let me explain,” he said, panting.

She bucked. “Get off!” she yelled.

He held her down. “Not until you listen to me.”

She wriggled.

“Please,” he said. “Just let me explain.”

“No.” She brought her leg up and kneed him as hard as she could. He cried out and rolled off her, cupping his hands between his legs.

She sprung to her feet. He remained coiled in the grass, his face contorted in pain. She should leave him here, run back to The Pop-Inn. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. Instead she stood over him, unable to move away. After all their years together, growing up together, a part of her understood she would always love him no matter what he had done. She couldn’t switch her feelings off as though she were turning off a light. It wasn’t that easy.

After a few minutes he unfolded his body, still lying on his side. Neither of them spoke for several more seconds.

“You deserved that,” she said.

“I know.”

“I was never yours to take. I will never be yours. But if it makes you feel any better, I was never Billy’s, either.” She wouldn’t, couldn’t, be owned by either of them, not then and not now.

He didn’t say anything, and rolled onto his back, staring at the night sky.

“How could you let me think what happened that night was my fault? How could you not tell me the truth?”

“I’m sorry.” He was crying, sobbing. “You have to understand. You wouldn’t have married me if I did.”

“How do you know what I would’ve done?” she asked. “You never gave me a chance.” She paused, sure of only one thing. “I won’t tell anyone what you did. I already have one child who lost a father. I don’t want to have two.” Her own tears started falling, and she wiped them from her cheeks. “But I don’t know what Dee Dee and Patricia will do.”

He turned his head away as though it hurt to look at her. “Everything I did. All of it,” he said. “I swear, I did it for you.”

“No, Kevin, you didn’t. You did it for you.”

* * *

Jo pulled open the screen door to The Pop-Inn and stepped inside. Every inch of her body hurt from the inside out. It even hurt to think. All she wanted was to fall into bed. She wasn’t more than two steps across the porch when Caroline