Jules, page 23
What he was saying finally broke through and for the first time since all this shit happened, I wondered if it was possible if Ivy did this. I had been telling myself that there was no way because I had gotten to know her over the past few months and I didn’t think she was capable of murder. But the truth was, I only knew what she told me. I couldn’t remember what happened before with her and I had no way of knowing if anything she was telling me was a lie. There was no one to question from her past that could shed some light on what kind of person she was. All I had to go on was her word.
I sat down heavily in the chair across from Cap’s desk and hung my head in my hands. This was a fucking disaster and I could no longer deny that the mother of my child was possibly guilty. “What the fuck do I do?”
“I don’t know, man. This isn’t something I can give you advice on.”
“If she did this…if she did this, what does it say about me? I fathered a child with her.”
“It says that you trusted the wrong person.”
“Am I insane for wanting to believe she didn’t do this?”
“Not insane. We always want to believe in the people we love. But there’s a difference between wanting to believe and actually believing. So, you have to ask yourself which it is for you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Ivy
FOR THE FIRST time this week, I smiled. Julian was here to visit me and with the way I had been feeling, I really needed this right now. But when I got closer, his face didn’t appear to be happy to see me. In fact, he looked pissed. I sat down in the chair and waited for him to talk first.
“Your trial’s coming up,” he finally said.
“Yeah,” I nodded. This wasn’t news. We both knew that my trial was starting next week on Monday.
“Ivy, you’ve got to tell me. Did you do this?”
I reared back in shock. Since when had we gone from him doing everything he could to keep me from prison to questioning my innocence? It was like a bad dream that I couldn’t wake up from.
“What? I thought you believed me.”
“I thought I did too.”
“I don’t understand. What changed that suddenly you don’t believe me?”
“You want to know?” he laughed humorlessly. “Let’s just call it having my eyes opened. I had a talk with Cap today. Do you know what he found?” I shook my head. “Nothing. He found absolutely nothing. Not a single clue that would lead any of us to believe that you might have been set up like you claim. But I still wanted to believe you. There had to be some way, right? Except, the problem is, I don’t have a single thing to defend you with. You lied about that car accident, insisted that it wasn’t you, but we have you on video.”
“No,” I shook my head rapidly. This was all a mistake. I knew it. There was no other explanation.
“Yes, you fucking lied, and I chose to let it slide. And then you beat the shit out of that guy with a baseball bat.”
“I told you that I didn’t know what happened. I went into some kind of rage and-”
“Exactly! You went into a rage. You couldn’t stop yourself and then you did it again when you killed that woman. Only this time, you wouldn’t even fucking admit it. All the evidence points to you and you’re still standing here and trying to tell me that you didn’t do it.”
“But I didn’t. You know I was at home sleeping,” I pleaded.
“I don’t fucking know that,” he exploded. “All I know is that I was out of town when it happened and all the evidence leads to you. There’s nothing that would shine any doubt on your case. If there was even a slight possibility that you didn’t do it, there would be something. Your house was clean, not a single sign of a break-in. Your hair and skin cells were at the scene of the crime; on the murder weapon, and in her fucking hand. Tell me, why the hell should I continue to believe you? Give me something, Ivy!”
I just shook my head and cried. I was expecting a somewhat pleasant visit and now I found the one person that I really hoped would be on my side had turned on me. “Please. Do you really think I’m capable of murder?”
We were far enough away from the guard that we couldn’t be overheard, but still, Julian was getting too loud. If he kept this up, he would get kicked out, which at the moment didn’t seem like a bad thing to me.
He scoffed at me. “I don’t really know you. In fact, from what I hear, nobody ever really did. You hid from everyone and you did a damn good job of it. You lied to me for two years about what you were running from.”
“I told you,” I started, but he didn’t give me a chance to finish.
“Yeah, you told me now, when I don’t remember anything about you. I believed you about not being involved in that bombing, but after all of this? What the hell am I supposed to believe, Ivy?”
“I was cleared of all charges. The police proved that I had nothing to do with it.”
“No, they didn’t find any evidence that you were involved. That’s not the same thing.”
“Julian,” I sobbed. “Please. Do you really think that I would be so good about covering up my tracks for a bombing, but leave a trail of evidence with all of these other crimes?”
He nodded, laughing at me. “You’re right. So which is it, Ivy? Which are you really guilty of? Were you involved in the bombing or are you really that fucking stupid to leave behind all that evidence implicating yourself? I’m going with really fucking stupid because you really did beat that man with a baseball bat.”
“I may have hid stuff from you, but I never lied to you,” I sniffled. I swiped at my face repeatedly, trying to clear my face of the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. But nothing could wipe away the way my heart was breaking right now.
“That’s the same fucking thing!” he roared. “For all I know, you got pregnant on purpose to keep me from running away from you. So, is that it, Ivy? Tell me now if there’s anything else I need to know. Any more surprises might give me a fucking heart attack.”
I shook my head wildly, but then I remembered the burns on my hands the morning I woke up sick. “I didn’t tell you everything. The morning I was sick, I was in the bathroom and Emma had walked in. I tried to get up and my palms were burning. When I looked down, I had burns on them. I didn’t know where they came from and then I forgot about them because I felt so awful.”
“Are you fucking serious right now? You practically just admitted that you were at the crime scene, that you murdered that woman,” he hissed quietly. “Burns on your hands, which explains how your skin cells were on the rope. And you had a headache that morning, probably from having your hair ripped out the night before. You fucking killed a mother who had two little kids at home waiting for her.”
“No, that’s not what-”
“You were lying all along. Again! Every time you open your mouth, it’s another fucking lie. How would I even begin to believe you right now? You’ve known this all along and you still fucking lied about it. You didn’t give me the chance to believe you or try to help you. And now you’re going to pay for what you did. You’re going to go to jail for the rest of your life.”
“I swear, I didn’t lie to you. I seriously forgot about it. You saw me that day. I was so sick.”
“Tell me this, Ivy. Can you say 100% without a doubt that you didn’t kill that woman? Can you tell me that you remember everything from that night and that you have something for me to go on?”
I shook my head as more tears fell from my eyes. “I can’t. I told you I don’t remember anything after leaving work.”
“Then you can’t ask me to believe you.”
“Why would I lie about not remembering anything?”
“Because you can’t change your story now without looking guilty.” He stood and pushed the chair back. “I don’t know what to believe anymore, Ivy. I wish I could say that I believe you, but there’s always something else I didn’t know. I can’t keep telling myself that you’re innocent when I don’t believe that anymore.”
He walked away from me, leaving me crying and alone. With less than a week until my trial, I had only one person left on my side. My chest felt like it would cave in at any moment and the pain ripping through me was too much to deal with. I was led back to my cell where I sat alone, completely raw and split wide open. There was nothing else that could hurt me right now. I was numb to everything. I had lost Julian for good, and soon I would lose my baby.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Jules
I YANKED THE door open at the sound of knocking, only to see Burg standing on the other side. I didn’t say anything as he walked past me. He was most likely here to lecture me about Ivy. With his wife being her best friend, she probably sent him over here to find out what was going on with me.
“You want to tell me what the hell is going on?”
I called it. “Where should I start?” I walked into the kitchen and pulled out two glasses from the cabinet and poured two fingers of whiskey in both. “Should I start with the fact that Ivy has been lying to all of us for months? Or the fact that I created a baby with a woman that’s capable of murder. How about the moment when she told me that the morning after the murder, she woke up with burn marks on her palms?” I downed my whiskey, relishing the smooth heat that settled in my stomach. “That one really threw me over the fucking edge.”
I shoved the whiskey glass over to him and waited for him to drink it. When he didn’t, I poured myself another. Just because he wasn’t drinking didn’t mean I had to abstain.
“Are you sure she’s guilty?”
“Did you not just fucking hear what I told you? She killed that woman. How much more evidence do you need?”
“Do you know for a fact that she killed that woman?”
“She said she didn’t remember anything. Convenient.”
“Or not so convenient for her. If she didn’t actually kill that woman, then this is really fucking inconvenient for her.”
“Why are you defending her?” I asked harshly.
“Someone’s got to,” he muttered. “Look, I’m not saying she’s innocent, but did you actually have a conversation and give her a chance to explain? Did you dig into her story and see if she was lying, or did you just accuse her and yell at her?”
“How the hell would I dig into her story? She doesn’t remember.”
“There could be any number of reasons that she doesn’t remember, including one that could have really put her and your child in danger.”
“Yeah,” I snorted. “It’d be a good excuse, wouldn’t it.”
“There are all kinds of drugs, both legal and illegal, that could cause someone to forget. If she was drugged, you have to think about what could happen to your child.”
I drank some more whiskey, really letting the liquor take over my brain. I didn’t want to think anymore.
“You should have her talk to a doctor.”
“That’s just what she wants, more sympathy. I’m not giving it to her.”
He shook his head as he stared at me in disgust. “Look, if she’s guilty then I completely understand how you would feel betrayed. But if she’s innocent and she really doesn’t know what happened and didn’t remember the burn marks, that makes you an asshole. She’s the mother of your child and she deserves the benefit of the doubt.”
“I fucking gave her the benefit of the doubt! When she lied to me about the car accident, I shoved it aside and made excuses. When she beat the shit out of that man, I defended her and convinced the guy not to press charges. I can’t excuse murder.”
“No one’s asking you to.”
“You’re asking me to,” I shot back.
“I’m asking you to look into her claim. Make sure that she’s wrong, because if she’s not, you’re sentencing your woman to life in prison or the death penalty. Do you get that? Do you fucking understand what’s at stake here?”
I didn’t want to listen to this bullshit anymore. Why was I the asshole because I was tired of her lies?
“How much more am I supposed to give?”
“You give every fucking ounce of yourself to her because you loved her, even if you don’t remember it. People make mistakes all the time. You may not be able to prove that she’s innocent or that what she’s saying about that morning is true, but you know in your gut what you should do. You need to figure it out before you feed her to the wolves. There’s no coming back from that.”
“So, because I loved her before I forgot her, I should just pretend that she didn’t kill an innocent woman. I should forget that she’s lied to me over and over again. I should fucking lay down like a pussy and take just a little more shit from her.”
“Whatever we all thought your relationship was with her, we were wrong. No man would allow the woman he loves to go through something like this.” He shook his head at me as he headed for the front door. Before he walked out, he turned back to me with a sad expression. “You’re not the Jules I used to know. I don’t see that man standing anywhere in this room right now.”
“That’s because he doesn’t fucking exist anymore!” I shouted as he walked out the door.
✯✯✯✯✯
With the amount of whiskey I drank last night, waking up this morning felt a lot like when I woke up in the hospital. I had a pounding headache, a dry mouth, and I was really fucking nauseous. If I had eaten I probably would have been fine. But I wasn’t thinking about food last night. I was thinking about forgetting.
After Burg left, I finished off the bottle of tequila, thinking I was like those Russian dudes that could drink morning, noon, and night and still be fine. I wasn’t one of those guys. I was more like the drunk friend who sits down with said Russian dudes and does shot after shot because he thinks he can keep up. Then the Russian dudes start making fun of him in their native language and the drunk friend laughs along because he doesn’t have a fucking clue what they’re saying.
It was too bright everywhere in my house, so I put on my sunglasses and wandered into the kitchen to find something to get rid of this horrible headache. The problem was, I couldn’t remember what I needed to eat or drink to cure this hangover. My brain was in too much of a fog to think clearly. Instead, I sat down on the couch and tried to fall back asleep.
But as soon as I sat down, someone knocked at the fucking door. Groaning, I sat up and pushed myself off the couch. When I opened the door, no one was there. I started to peek outside, but the sun was just way too fucking bright. I slammed the door, wincing at the sharp noise and settled back on the couch.
There was another banging, but this time it came from the back of the house. I got up again and shuffled through the kitchen to the back door. I could see through the glass door that no one was there. What the fuck?
“I’m never drinking alcohol again. I’m imagining noises now,” I muttered as I went back to the couch. Not two seconds after I sat down, the fucking knocking started again. This time from the front door.
“Son of a bitch,” I grumbled, pushing myself off the couch. “I swear to God, I’m going to beat your ass!” I flung the door open, but there wasn’t anyone there.
“This is great. I really am going crazy. Maybe it’s a side effect of my brain injury.” I shut the door and turned for the couch. “And now I’m talking to myself. I’m hearing noises and talking to myself like a crazy person. Someone’s going to show up here with a straitjacket and haul me off to the looney bin.”
I stopped in my tracks, deciding it would be wiser to just stay where I was. If someone was going to knock on my fucking door, I was going to be there to catch them. As soon as the knock came, I flung open the door and ran outside. I caught a glimpse of someone running around the side of the house and took off.
“I’m gonna get you, motherfucker!”
I technically wasn’t really ready for this much running with my hip, but I wasn’t losing this asshole. I made it around to the backyard, but nobody was there. I scanned the tree line, hoping that I would catch sight of whoever it was. After a few minutes, it was obvious that whoever it was had left. I walked around the other side of the house just to be sure and then up to my front door. But when I tried to turn the handle it was fucking locked. I jiggled it again, but nothing happened.
“What the fuck? I know I didn’t lock it.”
I thought back and didn’t remember even closing the door behind me. I went around to the back door and tried the sliding door, but it was locked also. I was going to have to break in. I was in security. I probably knew how to do that. If I looked at the lock, it would all come rushing back to me.
I stared at the front door, examining the lock. Bending over, I really scrutinized it. I closed my eyes and thought back to some of the jobs I had done with the guys, but I couldn’t remember anything about picking locks. And the harder I thought about it, the more my head pounded.
“Ahh!” I yelled and kicked the door, then slid down to my ass, staring out at the front lawn. I didn’t even have my phone on me. How the hell was I supposed to call anyone for help?
The door opened suddenly and I fell on my back into the hallway. I tilted my head in confusion when I saw Rocco standing over me.
“What are you doing in my house?”
“Your house?” he questioned.
“Yeah, you’re in my house.”
“No, I think you’re confused. I just moved in. See?” He waved his arm behind him where brown boxes were stacked so high I couldn’t see behind them. I blinked, sure that I was having some crazy dream caused by the copious amounts of alcohol I drank.
“But, I was just in here.”
“Um, not that I don’t want you here, but why are you on my doorstep at six o’clock in the morning? In your briefs.”
