The Cabin (22 page)

And to Pete.

I raised my bottle, clinking it against the boys' cans and Megan's glass of neat vodka. “Getting drunk, Megan?” I asked.

“It's over now, Mackenzie. Blake's going to prison for what he did. We don't have to worry about Courtney and Josh never getting justice. I kind of think that's cause for a celebration, don't you?” she asked.

No.

“It is,” Aaron replied. “To justice and finally being able to move on.” He closed his eyes looking beyond tired. I felt the same.

How many toasts were they going to do? The real murderer hadn't been caught yet. I was drinking with strangers.

Ten agonizing minutes later, Megan giggled. She hadn't had much to drink, but she was drinking vodka. I couldn't even blame her. At least if I were drunk, I could stop worrying for a while. I couldn't do that to Blake though. He was sitting in some holding cell, so having fun, getting an escape—even if momentary—seemed so wrong.

“I can't believe it's just us four. This time last year, my room was filled with eight drunk and very happy people. Remember you girls dancing around the room, singing into empty bottles?” Kyle asked, laughing.

I smiled at the memory and wished we could go back in time. Things were simple and easy then. It was such a shock to see how much could change in just one year. My circle of friends had been cut in half, and I had a not-really-a-boyfriend friend who I could possibly lose to jail before we really got to be together. I was so tired of losing people.

“This is all so screwed up, but at least they have the person who did it. We're all OK now,” Aaron said, raising his glass to me.

My hand tightened around the bottle, but I said nothing. Perhaps if they all got drunk, one of them might slip up. I didn't have much hope, but it was the only piece I had left.

“Thank God,” Megan added. “I knew we would all get through this. We just had to stick together.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aaron raise his eyebrows, and I knew the gesture was for me. I had pretty much accused him of being the murderer when I asked if he planted those things on Blake.

“I'll just be a minute,” I said and left the room. There was a phone call I needed to make that absolutely couldn't wait, so I locked myself in the bathroom down the hall.

Wright was on the other end of the line almost the second as he was informed of my call. “Hello, Miss Keaton, what a lovely surprise.”

“Is Blake OK?”

“Blake is fine,” he replied.

“What's happening? You know he didn't do this, don't you?”

“Unfortunately, I can't speak about—”

“Cut the bull,” I snapped. “We all know you do nothing by the book, so don't try to start now.”

The line was silent for a second and then I heard a quiet chuckle. “I admire your spunk, Mackenzie.”
Spunk. Who still used the word
spunk
?
“Blake is being questioned.”

“I figured that. You're still looking at who really murdered Court and Josh though, aren't you?”

“If you're asking me if you're still a person of interest, yes.”

My shoulders loosened in relief. That meant he wasn't jumping on the Blake-did-it train like everyone else. “Good.”

“I find it quite remarkable that you would prefer to still be in the limelight.”

“I don't want an innocent man going to prison.”

“Neither do I,” he replied. “The evidence we found in Blake's room has been sent for testing.”

“You mean fingerprinting?”

“Nothing gets past you, does it?”

“Hard to say. You're slightly more transparent than my friends right now though.”
And that's the biggest lie I've told.

“I wish I could say the same about you. Good day, Mackenzie,” he said and hung up.

I walked back to Aaron's room, and they hadn't moved an inch. Taking my seat between Megan and Kyle, I picked up my drink and then thought better of it.

They had been alone with it, and I didn't trust them anymore.

I left to go home shortly after they started on the shots. It was only seven in the evening, and I didn't have to be home until eleven, but I couldn't celebrate Blake's arrest. It made me feel sick, and if Aaron made one more toast, I was going to punch him.

Both of my parents' cars were in the drive, which was unusual on a weekday, since they didn't leave work until about this time. My nerves rattled as I opened the door and yelled out, “Hello?”

“We're in the kitchen,” Mum replied, and I took a left, under the arched doorway.

The last time we had a kitchen talk was three years ago when they were giving me
the talk
after I got together with Danny. I could still remember the horror I felt at having them explain contraception. Not to mention when Mum slid a condom over a banana, I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. The day I found out I was pregnant, I burned the remaining condoms Danny and I had.

“Sit down, Mackenzie,” Dad said. He and Mum were around the kitchen table with a teapot filled with steaming hot tea and three mugs. I sat down and bit my lip. This didn't look good.

“Blake has been arrested,” Mum said, pouring tea into the mugs.

“Yes, but he didn't do it. I know he didn't.”

“Mackenzie—” Dad started, but I cut him off by holding my hand up.

“Please, Dad. I know what you're going to say, but I trust him. We've spent a lot of time together, and I know that he could never do what he's been accused of doing.”

“How well do you
really
know him though?”

I shrugged awkwardly, knowing I was going to sound like every other teenage girl who was infatuated with a good-looking guy. “I know him well enough. You're the one who always says your gut instinct is never wrong.”

“And don't I regret that now,” he muttered behind his mug as he took a sip. “We just want you safe, sweetheart, that's why we think you should stay at home until this whole thing blows over.”

Blows over.
He made it sound like it was a thunderstorm that would pass quickly. “Dad, it's fine.
I'm
fine.”

He pursed his lips and put down his drink. “Mackenzie, I made it sound like a suggestion, and I shouldn't have. You will stay in until the person responsible for those murders is in police custody. Do you understand?”

“I'm almost eighteen, you can't ground me.” He could, of course, but it was ridiculous.

“I don't care how old you are. You're our child and we will do whatever is necessary to make sure you're safe. Hate us if you want.”

Oh, playing the hate-us card. Great. “I don't hate you. I understand why you're
grounding
me, but it's a little over the top and you know it.”

“Honey, you're our baby. If anything happened to you, we would never forgive ourselves. Now, if you trust Blake, then I do too. You've got a good head on your shoulders, but if you're going to see him when he gets out of jail, it will be here, when one of us is home,” my mum said.

Because that won't be embarrassing at all.

Conceding, I said, “OK. Thank you for trusting me about Blake.” I couldn't really argue when they were showing me a
lot
of trust. They'd met Blake only a few times and he'd been arrested for murder. My parents had every right to forbid me to even think about him.

“Is it serious between you two?” Mum asked.

“No,” I said cautiously. We had slept together and kissed a couple of times. That didn't exactly equal a serious, committed relationship, to him anyway.

“You're not doing that casual thing, are you?” Dad shook his head. “Mackenzie, you deserve better than that.”

“Oh my God, Dad!” My face lit on fire. “That's
not
what we're doing. We're not doing anything.”
OK, ground, do your thing and swallow me whole.

Mum frowned. “But you are together?”

“No, Mum.”

“I don't get you kids nowadays,” she said. “Why you have to complicate everything I will never know. If two people like each other, they should just come out and say so. Such a waste of time going around in circles when you could be happy.”

My parents admitted they liked each other within days of meeting, and about a week later they were a couple. It didn't quite work like that these days. Now, if a girl admitted she liked a guy straightaway she was a bunny boiler, and if a guy did that, he was a pussy. There were modern-day politics you had to consider, rules you had to adhere to in order to be happy. The young people that jumped into relationships nowadays were desperate and no one wanted a
latcher
.

“Can we not talk about this?
Please
.”

Mum put her mug down. “All right. You'll let us know when you two sort it out though?”

“Yeah, will do, Mum.” I took a sip of my drink, wishing it were hotter so it would scald my throat and I could go to the emergency room and not have this conversation. “Dad, do you think you could call the police station and try to find out what's going on? Wright won't tell me much.”

“You're worried about your not-quite boyfriend?” he asked.

“If you're not going to do it—”

“No, no, I'll do it.”

“You guys are being really cool about this. I appreciate that. You don't know Blake.”

“We know you. And if you trust him over three people you've known your whole life, then he can't be bad,” Dad said, standing up. “I'll make that call now.”

I
did
trust Blake more. I couldn't explain it. There was just something about him, about
us
, that made sense.

Mum smiled at me when Dad left the room. A full, toothy smile. She had something she was bursting to say. No doubt it would be about Blake. I sighed. “Go on. Just say it, Mum.”

“Have you kissed?” she asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

“And you really like him?” My mum was a romantic; she and Dad had been together since they were teenagers. They'd had their whole lives to be deliriously happy, so she wanted the same for me.

“I do.”

“You're being careful? And I don't just mean contraception.”

“OK, we're done now.” Why did “enough” mean nothing to my family? I stood up. “I'll see you at dinner.”

“You're hiding out until dinner? You shouldn't be embarrassed to talk about boys with me.”

“And good-bye, Mother!”

I left the kitchen to hover around Dad by the sofa.

“No, I know… Well, is there anything you can tell me?” he said into the phone. I knew that meant he was getting nothing as well. I hated waiting around, knowing Blake was innocent. How long would it take the police to figure that out?

He hung up and shook his head. “Sorry, kiddo. No news.”

I shrugged. “Thanks for trying. I'm gonna go watch a couple films.”

My room wasn't like bedrooms in movies, where you could sneak out down the drainpipe. Outside my window was a flat brick wall and a long drop onto stones. It would be noisy if I tried to sneak out. And besides, where would I go? I felt so useless.

Think. What can I do?

The cabin.

It'd been searched, extensively, by the police, and Blake and I had looked too, but maybe I could search again. My head knew it was pointless, but my heart needed to help Blake.

Curling up on my bed, I tried to formulate a plan, and somewhere between considering my escape options and sleuthing methods, I realized I was a joke. I was one of those people in films who did everything wrong.

I was a disaster and I was exhausted. So I decided that, for once, I would do nothing and leave it to the police. Whatever I tried just backfired anyway, so I wasn't going to interfere in case I made it worse. Blake didn't need that right now. It wasn't fair that he was in the police station being questioned when the murderer was drinking and celebrating, but what could I do?

Burying my head in my pillow, I shut my eyes and fell into a restless sleep.

Someone woke me hours later, shaking my arm. I groaned and looked at my phone beside me. 9:55 p.m. Groaning again, I rolled over to grumble at Mum or Dad for waking me up, but Blake's gorgeous blue eyes stared back at me, gleaming with amusement.

I threw myself at him, unashamed. It took a second for him to hug me back, but when he did, he almost crushed my bones. “You're OK,” I said, closing my eyes and clinging to him like a limpet. “What happened? Did my parents let you in?”

“They did, and nothing much really happened. Wright made me sit and wait for him for a good hour before we even started, but my phone was taken until they'd finished with me. They'd already searched my room and taken pictures, so they know that earring and chain weren't there before. Hopefully, they're convinced it's a setup. I'm not being charged, but I'm definitely not off the hook. I could be called back in at any time, and I probably will be, but for now they've let me go.”

“So Wright knows you're innocent.”

“He asked if I planted that stuff myself to make it look like someone was framing me.”

“Oh…”

He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah.”

“I don't understand why someone would put it there.”

“Come on. If items from victims are found after the police searched, they're going to think I hid it and then they're going to ask why.”

“I hate this. Whoever the killer is, they're getting desperate,” I whispered.

“Yeah.” He pulled back and looked at me with a stern gaze. “That means they're even more dangerous. I don't want you hanging out with your friends alone anymore. I know I sound like a dad, but we have no idea what they could do next.”

I rolled my eyes. “I've already been banned from leaving this house.”

“Good.” He sat on my bed, pulling me by the hand until I was tucked into his lap. “My mum came to the station,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“She did?” Maybe what I'd said got through to her then.

“Yeah. She was a real mum too, doing the hysterical-shouting shit I imagined she'd do if Josh were in my shoes, even though she was the one who called the police to begin with.”

“That's good.”

“Yeah… It was weird.”

“Good weird?”

“Good weird,” he confirmed and laid his chin on top of my head.

“Where's your dad?”

“Home with Mum at the minute. He wanted to make sure she's OK until I get back. They seem to be getting on. Well, they've not screamed at each other, so it's going better than it has been for the last twelve years.”

“I'm glad. What happens now?”

“With?” he asked.

“The investigation and you.”

“It is still ongoing, which seemed to annoy Wright, so it's not all bad. And I have to pack up my room at home and move all my stuff to my mum's.”

“Really?” I said, trying not to sound as excited as I felt. Obviously I did a rubbish job because Blake's chest rattled with silent laughter.

“Yeah. My dad's away more and more, so it makes sense for me to be around family. Family…and you.”

Don't happy dance.

“You want to be around me?”

He moved his head back and I tilted mine so I could see him. “That shouldn't surprise you. Apparently it's painfully obvious to everyone else that I like you. I want to be with you, Mackenzie.” He admitted that so easily I wondered if this guy was really “my” Blake.

All I could do was stare at him like a moron.

“Speechless is unlike you,” he teased, grazing my bottom lip with his own. I think I actually died for a second. Chuckling, he shook his head and then gave in, pressing his mouth to mine. I was done. I couldn't form words and I was struggling to keep my pulse under check.

Blake's fingers knotted in my hair as he kissed me, and I thought I was going to faint. Kissing him was a million times better than anything I'd ever experienced before. When he let me up for air, he looked as elated as I was that out of all this huge mess, we'd found something great.

Blake left my house at half past ten. When my parents were going to bed, they'd dropped their not-so-subtle hint about us not being left alone together—until I was at least twenty. Instead of getting annoyed that he was being kicked out, Blake simply smirked, kissed me, and told me he'd be back in the morning.

I got back into bed, feeling whiplashed from worrying myself sick about Blake, then being ecstatic that he'd finally opened up and we were together. Needless to say, I slept like a baby.