Page 77 of Healed Heart

“I don’t know… I’m kind of partial to blond men.”

Jason is dark-haired.Most of my family is dark-haired.The only exceptions are my father, my brother Henry, and my cousins Dale and Donny—all blond.And none of them have any actual Steel blood.

Though I didn’t mean for this conversation to become about Tabitha’s love interest, I’m glad it’s taken a turn.The less time I have to talk about Ralph and what he asked of me, the better.

“There’s nothing wrong with a preference, Tabitha,” I say, offering her a smile.“We all have them.”

She nods, pushing a strand of her dirty-blond hair behind her ear.“I guess so.It just feels so weird, you know?Like I’m choosing a guy based on his hair color.”

“Hey, we’re all a bit shallow, right?”I pat her on the shoulder.“We like what we like.”

She lets out a chuckle, and for the first time today, I feel some of the tension ease.

Despite the joking, my mind still hovers on Jason alone in his cell.

“I need to get going,” I tell Tabitha.“I’ve cut classes yesterday and today.I need to check the school website to see what I missed and get caught up.”

“Yeah, okay.You want to get a drink later?”

A drink?I could use several, but I have to be available for Jason.Mr.Haywood has probably contacted him by now, but more than likely he won’t be arraigned until tomorrow.

“I don’t think so,” I tell Tabitha, “but thanks.Maybe sometime this weekend.”

“I’ll hold you to that, bestie.”She grins as we part ways.

I drive back to my townhome, and I cuddle with Tillie on my couch, my books open in front of me.I’m not sure how much time passes when my doorbell rings.

I look through the peephole and gasp.

ChapterThirty

Jason

She looks beautiful, as always.

“Jason!”Angie gasps.“You got out already?”

“Thanks to the attorney you sent.”He runs his hands through his hair.“Fuck, Angie.My life is in your hands, isn’t it?”

Her eyes well up, but she quickly blinks away the tears.She opens the door wider.I step inside, feeling an immediate rush of relief.

“Sit,” she mutters, gesturing toward the couch.“You look like you need a drink.”

“Do I?”I say dryly.“Can’t imagine why.”

She doesn’t smile back at me.Instead she heads into the kitchen and returns with two glasses and a bottle of bourbon.She pours us both a drink and hands one to me.

I swirl the amber liquid in the glass, releasing its smoky aroma.

“Thank you.”I raise the glass to my lips and take a long sip.The burn of the whiskey is a welcome distraction from the chaos in my mind.

“Are you okay?”Angie asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

I shrug, looking down at my drink.“I don’t know.I’m out of jail for now, but the charges are serious.”

Angie nods and sets her glass down on the coffee table.She shifts closer to me on the couch, places a comforting hand on my arm.“You didn’t do it.We’re going to prove your innocence.”

For an instant, I let myself believe her words, to believe in the possibility that everything might turn out okay.