Page 6

Mr. Lordson nods. “They had your fingerprints on the murder weapon, however, just because your prints were on the weapon doesn’t mean you pulled the trigger. The eyewitness—”
“Bogus eyewitness,” I interrupt, silently seething. There’s no way there could’ve been an eyewitness because I definitely didn’t shoot that poor young girl. The whole thing has reeked as a setup from day one.
The corners of Lordson’s eyes crinkle. “Well, he has changed his tune, much to the dismay of Detective Reynolds and the DA.”
I can’t even feel bad about the possibilities that come to mind regarding how the Crew handled that situation, considering the fucker was lying in the first place. “So, not enough evidence?”
“Not at this time,” Lordson says. “In cases such as this, they’ll usually wait to acquire more evidence. They don’t want to charge you formally if there’s any possibility a jury wouldn’t convict.”
His words burn my brain. Something similar was uttered to my aunt and uncle about Big Daddy K murdering my parents, though I suspect that was just bullshit. They were too scared to go after him and what he represented. As far as my case goes, I suspect it’s a lot more accurate. “So, it’s not over?”
Lordson shakes his head. He glares at the peeling paint that surrounds the picture window. “I’m afraid not, Ms. Samson, however, since they’ve decided not to pursue you at the moment, you’re allowed to leave this place. In fact, I believe—”
The attorney cuts off just as a sleek black car pulls up to the curb. My mind whirs. He’s here. One of them is here.Someoneis here.
For me.
The car parks and sits there, idling. The damned tinted windows don’t give any indication in regard to who’s inside, and I can barely keep myself together.
I stand on shaky feet, and Mr. Lordson stands with me. “Just one last word, dear. That Detective Reynolds is one persistent SOB. As your lawyer, I need to inform you to stay out of trouble. I have a feeling he’ll use anything he has against you, and you’re not out of the woods yet. Should other evidence arise, you could be right back here. Or worse.” He waits until I move my gaze away from the car to meet his. “Do you understand?”
I hold out my hand. “I do, Mr. Lordson. Thank you for your work on this.” He keeps his gaze on me like I should be promising him to stay out of trouble, but I can’t possibly promise that, can I? Sitting in that car—no matter who it is—is trouble. Just for the very fact that I’m probably on my way back to the Heights tonight means I’m moving back into the fire.
But I’m doing it anyway. I miss them. All of them.
The time away has made one thing very clear to me. My initial goal is still at the top of my list. Big Daddy K will suffer at my hands; however, I have a dream that comes in at a close second. I want to leave here with all of these guys who are too good for the Heights, whether they know it now or not.
Which means, I have to share some hard truths with Johnny. In time. If I walked up to him now and told him I had feelings for other guys, he’d kill them. I know it as much as I know the truth in my heart that I can’t walk out of the Heights without him either.
Now I just have to figure out how to do everything I came here to do, while keeping my budding relationships intact.
3
Iwalk down the porch steps, my knees quaking so hard that my legs are unsteady. Mr. Lordson moves ahead of me. He ducks his head to look in the front seat and then straightens again, moving to the back of the car, his hands on the door handle.
I gulp in several breaths of air to try to wrangle my heart under control. I didn’t run back into the house to grab my things because nothing up there is mine anyway. Let the assholes still stuck here fight over the clothes I was able to scrounge together and the radio alarm clock that’s been keeping me company.
If Jacinda knows I’m leaving, she’s not hollering after me like a crazed lunatic, so she must’ve verified this with Detective Reynolds.
I’m free. I’m actually free.
My body shudders at the thought of his name though. The walk to the car is like being stuck between my current life and what’s waiting for me. Reynolds won’t back down from here on out. I don’t think that for one second, but I’ll be a hell of a lot happier rolling with the punches with my guys at my side.
“It’s okay,” Lordson says, as he opens the door.
The interior of the car is completely black inside. It’s sunnier than all hell out here, but the minute I get a leg in the car, it takes forever for my eyes to adjust to the lighting. It doesn’t help that Lordson slams the door shut as soon as I’m clear of it.
I blink as if doing so will clear my vision faster, but I’m not sure that’s actually true because I’m still staring at a dark shadow on the opposite seat from me. My stomach twists like this was a bad idea, but as soon as I think that, a voice croaks on the opposite side. “Kyla.”
His sure tenor coats me in protective warmth. No wonder why I couldn’t see Magnum. He’s wearing his signature all-black outfit. The more my eyes adjust, the creases in his forehead deepen until he scans every last inch of my body. It feels as if he’s tearing me apart piece by piece but knitting me back together again with his reassuring gaze. “I was worried about you,” I say.
He looks away, his jaw ticking at my honesty.
The hot cocoa packet in my pocket makes a lot of sense now that Magnum is sitting across from me. I knew it was a sign I could trust the lawyer, and that even if Johnny had sent it, it was because of Magnum.
“You shouldn’t have been.”
The car takes off, and I slide back in my seat. I hurry to put my seatbelt on, and I swear Magnum’s gaze darkens even more while he watches me make sure I’m restrained.