Page 9

Chapter 9

Elise

“ S o that detective’s nice,” Dylan drawled.

I snorted, turning the key in the ignition. “Are you kidding? ‘That detective’ acted like a complete turd. Aside from having the same eye color, beer belly and receding hairline, he was nothing like the nice man that showed up on my doorstep last night.”

I threw my car into reverse and sped out of the police station’s parking lot, tires squealing. Dylan braced a hand against the dashboard. “Um, Elise, are you trying to take that guy up on his offer to arrest you?”

My pulse thrumming in my ears, I opened my mouth, but no words came. Just anger. Boiling beneath the surface. Like an active volcano, ready to blow at any moment. The cars around us were blurs of color.

I flipped on my blinker, and somehow, a few seconds later, my car was parked across three rows of stalls in front of a tree-shaded playground. Dylan reached over and took the keys out of the ignition.

Whimpering, Bessey nervously licked my elbow.

“Come on; let’s walk,” he said.

After letting Bessey out of the back, I followed Dylan onto the grass and together, the three of us headed onto a paved trail that wove among the sycamore trees.

“Can you believe the way they treated me?” I blurted. “You’d think I was the one going around killing people the way everyone in there acted.”

The frustration filled me, pressing against the front of my skull. My foot shot out and kicked a nearby trash bin, knocking it over. Wads of paper and an old pizza box spilled onto the grass.

Growling, I knelt and grabbed at the trash. I threw it wildly at the open bin, then tore into the nearest discarded page. I ripped it into increasingly tiny pieces, then reached for another.

“Here, try these.”

Two more crumpled papers landed beside me. I looked up, ready to rip into Dylan with all my fury. He returned my glare with a lopsided smile. Bessey launched onto the remaining trash, barking and rolling over the stinking mess.

I opened my mouth, then froze mid-yell. Bessey was just being a happy dog. She didn’t deserve my frustration.

Neither did Dylan.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so rude to you lately.”

Had I really just said that?

“That’s okay; I know things have been hard.”

I was about to reply when I caught Bessey preparing to pounce on a dirty diaper peeking out of the bin.

“Oh no you don’t.” My hand caught her collar just as she lunged, and I was able to keep her out of the bin.

Dylan gathered the rest of the garbage while I held Bessey back, and soon, we were able to resume our walk.

“Sorry about that; I don’t know what got into me,” I said.

“Really, because I do.”

I stopped to face the guy who tossed his head to the side, clearing his blue hair out of his equally blue eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re a girl who’s been living for almost a year without the most important person in her life and who’s been bottling all her emotions, pretending like everything’s fine. Then, you saw your dad’s body being dug up—something that would be traumatic for anyone. And finally, you found some evidence that might lead you to find the person who did this to your family, and you get totally chewed out for being curious and following a clue. You were bound to blow at some point. If you ask me, you should blow a little more often. It’s not good to keep stuff locked inside. It eats at you; trust me.”

“And you know about things eating at you?”

Dylan shook his head. “Nice try. We’re talking about you right now.”

I narrowed my eyes at this tanned version of a Greek statue in gym shorts before me. Could there be more to him than just a music-obsessed runner? He’d already proven that he could be thoughtful.

“And then there’s what Sophie did to you at the invitational last year, ruining the biggest race of your career.”

“You saw that?” I gasped.

“Yeah, you were killing it. You were in the lead coming into the loop. I sprinted over there to cheer for you guys, and I couldn’t believe it when she threw that elbow. I think she meant to shake you up, maybe make you trip. I don’t think she could have known you would step wrong and twist your ankle like that. Still, it was a dirty move, even for her.”

I blinked up at Dylan. All this time, it seemed like no one on the team believed me. That they thought I was lying. That they believed Sophie when she said I’d tripped over my shoelaces, and she’d had nothing to do with it. Then, they’d acted like I’d just been a drama queen when I didn’t rejoin the team to race Regionals or State. They’d gotten to go on racing while I spent months on crutches, and later, in physical therapy, healing torn ligaments.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“I did. I went straight to the race officials.” His head drooped. “I know your dad had always been one of the guys in charge, but with him gone, I was just trying to convince the other guy in charge, Coach Pete, and he wouldn’t believe anything so terrible about his precious little girl, said we had to have other witnesses or a video of the violation to disqualify her. Since I didn’t have either, he just sent me away. And his little brat went on to win the race.

“I tried to tell the rest of the team, but they wanted to believe Daddy’s Little Psychopath instead of me.”

I snorted at the brilliant description. Sophie really was a piece of work. Fortunately, now that she’d gone on to run for her dad in college, I hardly had to see her. This was the first I’d heard of Pete being told of the cheap shot Sophie took at me. Having grown up in the Cross-Country community, I knew as well as anyone that Pete was right. A runner couldn’t be disqualified without multiple witnesses to the violation, or recorded proof of the incident. Still, had he even talked with Sophie about what she’d done? She’d taken so much from me in that one small moment, including the chance to win Dad’s race. The thought of that brat sprinting through the tape at the finish line instead of me made my blood boil.

I looked down to my clenched fists, my nails engraving crescents into the palms of my hands. This wasn’t helping.

“Thank you for standing up for me then,” I said as I let my pent-up air whoosh from my lips. “I wished I would have known about it sooner. I always thought no one believed me. The good news is I’m not in high school anymore, and I don’t run anymore, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Are you sure about that, because the way you jogged around behind Dracula’s Lair, I swear you’re still in perfect running condition.”

I began walking forward, and Dylan trotted to catch up.

“Anyway, I wanted to apologize for not going out there and helping you, he said. “I thought it would be more helpful for me to report Sophie, but that was stupid of me. We already knew your dad hadn’t shown up to the race. With him being missing and you already worried about where he was, I should have helped you up off the course and taken care of you instead of leaving to report Sophie. I’m super sorry. If I could go back, I would totally do things differently.”

Tears. My vision was a haze of unshed tears. Not here. Not now. I tried sniffling them back. Tried to keep my mind in the present. Not on the ground of that dusty racecourse, trying to roll aside as hordes of girls leapt over me. Dad missing. My dream of winning his race shattered. Hopeless and hurting. Completely alone.

Of course, Sophie had waited until that back turn to elbow me. Since it took crossing the course to reach that small loop, nobody had seen her. At least I thought nobody had seen.

“What made you decide to go back there and watch us; weren’t you supposed to be warming up for your race?” I turned to face Dylan.

His gaze wandered to the side. “I was running part of the course. That’s warming up, isn’t it? Besides, I wanted to see how you did. I knew that race was a big deal to you, and with the stress of your dad not being there, I guess I got kind of worried.”

“You were worried about me?”

He gave a slight shrug, not meeting my gaze.

“Thanks.” I had the sudden urge to grab the guy’s hand and squeeze it, though I resisted.

“Sure.”

“Now, what about you?” I asked.

“What about me?”

“You said something about keeping things locked inside that eat at you. It sounds to me like there’s a story there.”

Dylan looked to his bright orange shoes, then at Bessey padding along beside us before turning to me. “Let’s just say I have a past.”

“What kind of a past?”

The guy had moved here just before our senior year, then started training with the team a little over a year ago. At the time, I hadn’t thought much of it.

He blew out a breath. “I guess if I’m going to lecture you on shutting everyone out, I shouldn’t be such a hypocrite, but you have to understand— it’s been hard. And my family all treats it like it’s this big dark secret. Ruining the family name and all that.”

I studied the guy in my peripheral vision. Sure, he had blue hair and a loud personality, but he’d always seemed harmless. What could he have possibly done? We walked in silence with only the sound of our footfalls and the distant shouts of children between us.

“So back in Arizona, I kind of got in with a rough crowd. They didn’t seem so bad at first. We were in a band together, and we’d hang out and practice a couple of times a week, sometimes play at a gig.”

“You played in a band?”

“Play in a band, actually.” Here came the hair flip. “I found another group down here, and we’ve started practicing. We’ve got a couple of gigs lined up already.”

Well, that explained the music obsession.

“Anyway, these guys started doing dumb stuff, and most of the time, I didn’t join in. I was pretty busy with track and everything. But sometimes, I did join them.”

“We’d get pretty drunk, and honestly, I don’t remember all of what we did. I was pretty out of it. Then one night, we got wasted and were driving around. I don’t know why. We could have just stayed where we were. It’s not like I needed a ride home. I lived three streets away.”

Dylan kicked at a rock on the path and sent it skidding into the grass.

“We were just so stupid.” He raked a hand through his hair. “So, we were driving around in one of the guys’ cars and got into an accident. I was in back on the opposite side of the wreck, so I was fine, just some cuts and bruises, but Drew, the guy who was driving, he ended up being paralyzed and the lady we hit…”

His hands were balled into fists. Should I reach out and take one of them?

“The lady we hit died.”

Tears dripped from Dylan’s chin. I grabbed his fist and squeezed it. Hadn’t he done the same for me? Not that I’d ever let him see me cry. Okay, there had been that one time right after we found Dad’s fanny pack, but those were extenuating circumstances.

“There, now you know what a horrible person I am.”

Biting my lip, I searched for the right words to say. “So that’s what’s been eating you up inside?”

“Yeah.” His shoulders drooped so low he was almost folded in half. “My dad had this super successful dental business in Arizona, and we had an amazing house, but he and my mom decided it would be best to get me away from that crowd, so we just packed up and left. Our house back there still hasn’t sold, so we’re trying to make payments while living with my grandma and grandpa. My dad’s had to start over from scratch with new clients out here, and he and my mom are miserable.

“Oh, and I’m pretty sure my sister hates me.”

“The one you said you hoped someone would look out for?”

Dylan’s gaze stayed rooted to the paved path. “That’s the one. She’s twelve-years-old and hasn’t made a lot of friends since moving here. She only talks to me when she has to. Basically, my family’s lives are ruined, and it’s all my fault, and they won’t even talk to me about it. Whenever I try to bring it up, my parents change the subject, and my sister just walks away. My grandma’s the only one I feel like I can talk to about any of this.”

Well, so much for the airhead stereotype I’d filed this guy under. Honestly, was life this hard for everyone, but they were just better at hiding it? Seeing a nearby bench, I guided Dylan toward it. We sat, and I released his hand, my fingers still warm from the contact.

Ahead of us, a group of kids were playing on a playground. We sat in silence, Bessey resting her chin on my knee before I finally asked, “With all this going on, why do you act so happy all the time?”

The guy reached across me to scratch Bessey’s ears. “I dunno. I guess because being all sad and mopey doesn’t get you anywhere. I tried it, and all it did was make things worse. Me being miserable doesn’t do anything to help my paralyzed friend, or that lady’s family.”

“I just want to do something, you know.” He stood, then paced. “I can’t go back and fix what happened. I’d love to, but I can’t. All I can do now is be better and help people where I can.”

Still pacing, Dylan aimed his piercing blue-eyed stare at me. “I’ll help people whenever I can, Elise. It’s what I want to spend the rest of my life doing. Helping people rather than hurting them.”

I wriggled beneath that look like a fish desperate to get off a fishing hook and back into the water. It was great that he wanted to do something positive with what had happened, but I had never volunteered to be his charity case. I could count on three fingers the number of people I trusted enough to let them get that close, and all of them had known me since birth.

As nice as he might be, Dylan Harper would never get to see anything beyond the carefully crafted mask I presented to the world. I absolutely could not take one more heartbreak, which meant that every door and window into my heart had to stay locked tight, especially to him.