The Year We Hid Away (28 page)

My heart stuttered at the very idea. I still thought of myself as a good girl. A
very
good girl. In spite of a pile of evidence to the contrary. “I won’t freak out,” I said, while freaking out a little. “But I will be embarrassed, and try to reign it in.”

“That’s a shame,” Bridger said. “Because it’s really hot.”

“Do you promise?”

He rolled so that we could lie eye-to-eye. “Best. Thing. Ever,” he whispered. “You make me feel like a sexy beast.”

“You
are
a sexy beast.”

His eyes flared. “What would you say if I told you that the beast wanted some celebratory ice cream.”

I considered the idea. “I’d say it’s cold outside. And we’re not wearing any clothes.”

“We can get dressed and go out for dessert. When we come back, I’m going to undress you again.” He let his fingers drift down my naked back, grazing my bottom. It felt so good that I shifted suggestively against him. I couldn’t help myself. “Mmm…” Bridger said, kissing my ear. “Ice cream first. Because you’re going to need the calories. I plan to make this an all-nighter.”

I slid off of him and began hunting for my clothes. It was hard to argue with that logic, even if the only kind of all-nighter I’d ever before had was the kind where you cram for a test. Though getting naked with Bridger was certainly
instructive
. I felt insecure about that, too. He had so much more experience than I did. It probably showed.

“What’s that frown for?” he asked, pulling open a dresser drawer. “We can stay in if you want.”

“It’s not that,” I said with a shake of my head. “I like your idea of fun.”

Bridger grinned, and I noticed that he was fixing to go commando in his jeans. “Then what’s the matter?”

“Absolutely nothing. It’s just that I hope I… please you.”

He looked up quickly, the grin still in place. “Like you can’t
tell?
”

“Well…” I couldn’t really. I knew his body reacted to mine. That was obvious. But I also knew that I was still only beginning to learn all the ways there were to touch him. “I hope that if there’s some way I could improve, you’d tell me.”

He dropped a shirt back into the drawer and closed the distance between us. “Every time is better than the last,” he said, cupping my face in one of his big hands. “Don’t you
ever
think you’re inadequate, Scarlet. Experience isn’t important.”

“I don’t have a complex about it, Bridge. But sometimes I wonder if you used to have more fun…”

He shook his head. “That’s not how it works, although I didn’t understand that until I met you.”

“Understand what?”

He came so close to me that all I could see were those luminous green eyes. “You’re the best I ever had, Scarlet. Because I love you. When other people touched me, it felt good. But when you touch me, it feels good and it also means something. And that’s
potent
.”

He ducked his head to kiss the sensitive spot underneath my ear. “Mmm,” I said in appreciation.

I skimmed my hands over his bare chest, and he groaned. “Honestly,” he said. “You make me feel like a teenager again. We don’t get that many chances to be together, so I have to fantasize about you all the time.”

The idea made my skin heat. “Not tonight.”

“You’re right,” he swatted me gently on the backside. “Now put a shirt on, because I need me some Ben & Jerry’s.”

After we both dressed, and I’d brushed out my I-just-had-sex hair, Bridger tapped on Andy’s door. “You want anything from Scoops?” he called.

The door opened a few seconds later, and I made myself busy flipping through Bridger’s copy of our Music Theory textbook. As if Andy was really going to believe I’d been sitting here reading tonight.

“Are we celebrating your victory?”

“Yeah. Lucy comes back tomorrow.” Andy grinned, holding up a hand for a high five. “So. You want ice cream?”

“Sure. Can I tag along? I need to get away from this chemistry book for a few minutes.”

“Get a coat.”

With Bridger holding my hand, we went out into the chilly night. The courtyards and pathways were still. Harkness was a quiet place during exams, except for a few end-of-year festivities. “Hey, Andy? Isn’t your date with Katie tomorrow night?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Unless she’s changed her mind.”

“She wouldn’t do that.” I protested. “Katie is great. You have to look beyond the Barbie hair and the shiny lip gloss. There’s a really generous person under there.”

“Cool,” he said. “And speaking of generous, Hartley was looking for you earlier, Bridge.”

“Yeah?”

“He’s got the hockey team all organized. Some of them are going to help you plan a funeral, and other guys are going to help you clean out your mom’s house.”

Bridger flinched. “I don’t know if I want anyone’s help with that.”

I squeezed his hand. “Tomorrow, right? We deal tomorrow.”

“Good plan.” He squeezed back.

We were finishing our cones when my phone rang. It was my mother calling. I refused the call, but she tried again a minute later.

“Tomorrow,” Bridger murmured.

That sounded fine to me. The problem was that I’d upset the applecart by talking to the prosecutor. And if Azzan and friends didn’t like it, they might get in the car and drive here to express their displeasure in person. “I’ve got to take this. But I think I know how to get rid of them. Wish me luck.”

First, I pulled up that phone call recording app that Luke had told me about. After activating it, I answered my mother’s call.

“What have you DONE?” she screeched.

“Don’t you dare scream at me,” I said.

There was a brief silence, perhaps because my demand surprised her. “Azzan needs to speak to you. The police were back today, and he thinks you might be involved.”

“Why would he think that?” I asked, wondering what she’d say.

“I don’t know. But you will answer his questions.”

“Only if you answer mine. Mom, did you authorize Azzan to follow me and read all of my texts and emails?”

There was a pause. “Of course not.”

“Did Dad, then?”

Another pause. “No.”

“Thank you. Because having me
tailed
isn’t what I thought you meant when you said that family was supposed to help family.”

She ignored that. “When are you coming home for the holidays?”

“I’m not, Mom.”

Her sigh was like a fire-breathing dragon’s. “You are. And you’ll pack appropriate clothing for appearing in a courtroom.”

“None of that is going to happen…” I heard her winding up to yell, so I spoke quickly. “…And you’re going to shut up a minute and let me tell you why.” I took a deep breath. “I’m done. All I want from you is my tuition. You pay the bursar bills and leave me alone. And if you try to involve me in the case, I’m giving an interview to the
New York Times
.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would. And the first thing I’d tell them was that you lied to me for my entire life.”

On the other end of the line, my mother gasped. “I’ll kill him.”

“You can’t. Because I figured it out for myself. I read the newspaper too, Mom.” I was ad libbing this part. But I could tell that she was freaking out well enough to believe me. “One of the longer articles talked about Brian. It mentioned adoption. There was a picture, too. And my boyfriend said ‘you look just like your uncle.’”

I glanced up at Bridger. He was watching me, admiration on his face.

“I put it together myself,” I lied. Even though I was still upset with Brian for his part in the deception, I didn’t need to throw him under the bus to make my point. “I’m sure the newspaper would be very interested in those facts. It really speaks to Dad’s credibility, you know?”

“Don’t do this,” she said, her voice broken.

“Okay,” I said, my own voice rock steady. “Just let me be a student, and don’t expect to hear from me. Now give the phone to Azzan.”

For a minute I didn’t hear anything at all. A couple of hundred miles away, my mother was having either a breakdown or a strategy session. Just when I was about ready to hang up, the Asshole of the Year came on the line.

“Shannon,” he said, his voice gruff.

“Brrr!” I said, giving him the buzzer. “Try again. You want to talk to me, use my name.”

“You little
bitch
.”

“That’s not it either.” By now I must have completely lost my mind. Because talking back was starting to be fun. “Azzan, it’s illegal to track somebody’s phone messages without their consent. And it’s illegal to threaten my boyfriend to keep me under your thumb.”

“Now you’re just whining,” he said. “Tell me what happened today. Why were you inside an office building on South Street?”

“If you want to know, I need you to apologize.”

In the silence that followed, I could practically feel the waves of aggression coming at me through the ether. “I do my job,” he spat.

That wasn’t good enough for my purposes. I needed to get him to cop to some of the crap he’d been pulling on me. “You do it
illegally
,” I tried.

“I was never going to plant drugs in your boyfriend’s dormitory room, you little bitch. And good luck proving that I said it.”

Yes!
I shot out of my chair, grinning like a maniac. Across from me, Bridger raised an eyebrow. But I could probably get him to say even more. “There’s no way for you to know where I was this afternoon.”

“Your parents pay for your phone. If they installed some tracking software on it, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Interesting,” I said. Because my mother had blown that theory, and I had it on tape. “Well, it’s been fun talking to you tonight. But I’m afraid we’re not going to keep having these chats. Ask my mother — she’ll tell you why.”

I disconnected the call and then stared at the recording app. I’d tested it ten days ago, but only once.

“What’s going on?” Bridger asked.

“Hang on. I can probably show you.” A few seconds later, the app chimed.
Recording Saved
, the screen read. I tapped the “share” button, and shared the call with Bridger. “Can you check your email? I need to know if this worked.”

He took out his phone and tapped it. “What do I do? Follow this link?”

“Yeah.”

He waited, and thirty seconds later I heard something. Bridger tapped “speaker” and then my mother’s voice came from the phone, denying that she’d authorized my electronic tail.

Bridger and Andy listened to the whole thing, wincing whenever Azzan called me a bitch. But when it was over, Bridger grinned. “You are sneaky.”

I paced the ice cream place, too amped up to sit down. “Don’t cross me this week, guys. Because I’m kicking ass and taking names.” Then I “shared” the conversation I’d recorded with Azzan, and also with my techie friend Luke. Then I put on my coat and practically skipped back to Beaumont beside Bridger and Andy.

That night, I had the familiar dream again. But this time, it played out a little differently. The puck disappeared into a dark place. And when I skated over to retrieve it, the hole had transformed. This time, there were two rectangular doors in the ice. In the dream, I knew it was urgent that I get them open. But there were no handles on the doors.

And I was afraid of the sounds coming from within.

“Shh,” Bridger said into my ear.

My eyes flew open. It was dark, and I was naked in his bed. “Sorry,” I gasped.

“It’s okay,” he said quietly. “You were dreaming.”

I gave my heart rate a minute to descend back into the normal range. “Bridge? I think I might need to tell the prosecution what I think I heard,” I said. “That means I might end up in that damned courtroom after all.”

“Shh,” my boyfriend said, curling his warm body around mine. “Sleep now, worry later.”

“Okay,” I whispered. He kissed my shoulder, and I pushed the scary thoughts out of my mind. I focused instead on his soft breathing, and the feel of his skin against my back.

I must have fallen asleep again. Because the next thing I knew, sunlight poured through Bridger’s windows, and someone was knocking on the fire door.

“Hey guys?” came Andy’s voice. “I think you need to take a look at the news. I have the TV on.”

“Argf,” Bridger said.

But Andy had my attention. So I rolled off Bridger’s bed and pulled on my clothes. “Can I come in?” I asked, tapping on Andy’s door.

“Sure.”

I stepped into his room. A news channel played on mute on the screen. But a ticker strip at the bottom of the screen read:
Shocking new physical evidence discovered underground.
J.P. Ellison Takes Guilty Plea Bargain
.
Gets 25 Years
.

“Oh my God,” I said, staring at the screen.