Only The Trees Know, page 7
“Later, dudes,” Parker said as he shut the door.
“Later,” Liam replied.
The two of them leaving took away my buffer. Being alone with Liam was something I avoided. He’d proved to be every bit the temptation he’d promised to be.
I looked at the empty bong, considering. Maybe with Parker and Zoe gone I could actually get a decent high. There wasn’t any more weed stashed in the pool house. I could cut the night short, tell Liam that I was exhausted, and go inside for my pills. That would at least take care of both problems.
“Dude, you pissed Zoe off.” Liam chuckled apparently forgetting he was angry.
I shrugged.
He fell onto the couch beside me close enough that his leg brushed against mine. The instant heat made my heart race. I tried to move away, but there was no more space, and moving to another chair would be admitting how much he affected me.
“You gotta stop fucking her,” Liam said.
“You’re the one who brought her to my house. I told you not to.” She was a clingy octopus who I couldn’t stand. What gave Liam the right to judge me when he constantly threw her in my face? He was a hypocrite. “It’s not your business anyway.”
Liam pouted. “Why do you waste your time with her?”
The answer should be obvious. I gave him a pointed stare, raising an eyebrow.
Liam exhaled, flopping back onto the couch. “She’s a slut.”
I laughed at the ridiculousness of the accusation. She hadn’t slept with Parker or Liam as far as I knew, at least in the last almost two years that we’d been friends. She’d never dated or hooked up with anyone else either. Or if she did, she was very good at hiding it. Besides, she was entitled to sleep with anyone she wanted.
Instead of pointing out his jealousy, I said, “We’re just fucking. It’s not like I’m going to marry her.”
“You don’t even like Zoe.” Liam leaned toward me, shortening the space between us. Putting his lips dangerously near mine. I watched them the way they moved slowly, sensuously, as he accused me. “You’re using her. When we graduate you’ll probably never talk to her again.”
“Again, so?” I asked.
“When you stop messing with her, she’ll get upset and it will ruin our group.”
I narrowed my eyes. Our group was barely holding together as it was. Sometimes I didn’t understand why we still hung out. Except that we were bonded by the drugs and loser status that had made us friends in the first place.
My sleeping with Zoe wasn’t the only reason he was upset. It was because he and I had hooked up and I’d ended it. In a weak moment, I’d let my hormones get away from me. Messing around with him had been both the best and worst decision. Best, because holy God he really was a sexy bastard. Worst, because he couldn’t accept things the way they were. He was always pushing for more, like public acknowledgment. That would never happen.
One thing was for sure, sleeping with him had screwed up our friendship. He knew that although I said it could never happen again, I was weak. He was my kryptonite. I was having a difficult time letting him go.
“We’re still friends and I fucked you.”
Liam jolted like I’d slapped him. “That alone should have kept you from messing with her.”
I frowned, refusing to feel guilt. He didn’t get to do that to me, to twist me up further. Instead I fiddled with the bong, setting it aside. I tried to figure a way out of this conversation. My brain was too slow, though. And maybe I didn’t want to defuse it. Seeing Liam upset let me know that he still cared. Sick as it was, even though I knew that I couldn’t mess around with him anymore, I wanted him to need me.
“Fine, you want to bring this shit up? Then let’s talk about us,” Liam said.
I swallowed, my good mood plummeting. Every word had a double meaning and I wasn’t in the mood to parse it out. I didn’t understand what he wanted from me. If he would take what I could offer, we’d both be happier.
“There is no us,” I stressed every syllable, the taste of beer and pot sour on my tongue. My gut felt hollowed, complaining loudly as it twisted.
Instead of arguing with me, he leaned his body into mine so that we were pressed together and then he pushed me into the corner, lying on top of me. The weight and the heat of him turned me on. My obsession with him mirrored the want of a high. We were on a cycle too, as toxic as the drugs were.
“There’s an us,” he said, his lips almost touching my cheek.
I felt the heat of his breath and I groaned. I turned my face away, swallowing back my panting. “No, there isn’t.”
“Please, let’s talk about this?” Liam’s voice went soft and a little husky, exactly the way that excited me. His fingertips slid against my skin. “You can’t avoid talking to me forever.”
My body hummed whenever he was near. Him on top of me made my determination melt. My hands slid against him, gripping and pulling him closer. The response was involuntary.
The fact he could so easily manipulate me let me latch onto reason. I forced my weakness aside. He wasn’t going to turn me into a puddle of goo. I refused to be powerless. “We’re never going to talk about it.”
“But you liked it.”
I laughed from frustration, not mirth. That was the stupidest statement ever. Wanting to be cruel because maybe if I hurt him enough, he’d back off and I could save myself. “Sure I liked it. What’s not to like about sex? I could get naked with anyone and I’d like it.”
Liam physically reeled back. He moved onto his knees and I was thankful for the space between us. Not that I could breathe any better. It almost hurt not to have him touch me anymore.
Sometimes I didn’t know what I wanted. He wasn’t the only one frustrated with my inability to be consistent with my desires.
His eyes were glassy when he said, “Don’t make what we have sound meaningless. You know it was more than that.”
I sat up. “Do you want a declaration of love?” It hurt to say this to him, to pretend that our relationship hadn’t changed me. But if this was what it took to get through to him that we were over, then so be it.
The way he blinked as if he were holding back tears, crushed me. He looked lost as he swallowed a few times. “Don’t you feel anything for me?”
I felt too much and blamed him that I’d let it affect me. It made me unsure of myself. “This is not who I am.”
Several disbelieving sounds came from Liam’s mouth mimicking a wounded animal before he asked, “You think what we feel, the way we connect, is because I pushed us to confront it? Not because it’s real?”
“I didn’t pursue you. You kissed me, remember? I told you to leave me alone. Nothing would have happened if you had listened, and everything wouldn’t be fucked up like it is now.”
Liam snorted. “Right. Like you didn’t want it. You stuck your tongue down my throat as soon as I kissed you. You were panting after me.”
“Shut up.” I gripped my hands together to stop them from shaking or reaching out to touch him. The trust I had in myself to behave was nonexistent.
Liam wasn’t having any of my hollow words and denials. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth against mine. He consumed me as he focused on coaxing me for a response. Pushing forward he anchored us into the same position we’d been in, stretched on the couch with him on top of me. Lightning bolts of excitement danced in my head and I rubbed against him, seeking more friction.
For as much as we writhed, the kiss was achingly sweet. Liam took his time as if he could learn all my secrets through the act. There was nothing that compared to kissing him. The feel of rough unshaven skin scraping against mine, the taste of his mouth, the smell of his skin, it was all heaven. Touching him felt as if all the questions in the universe were answered and life made sense.
I deserved this even if it was only for this moment. Greedily, I wanted everything he could give me. To live in this fantasy if I could. Mostly I wanted to be a different person, one who could do this again and again every day of my life and never face the harsh reality that life didn’t work that way.
The kiss had to end though, just as every good thing in my life did, and eventually Liam pulled away. Our noses almost touched as we both sucked in breath. I stared at the slick puffiness of his lips, wanting them again. But the harsh tones of the music playing in the background penetrated my lust, reminding me that someone had to speak.
Liam was the one who broke the silence. “Why can’t we do this? I know you want me. We would be so good together.”
“You know why.” I wouldn’t say it out loud. Monsters needed to live under the bed, not out in the open. “I told you no, that should be enough. We’re not doing this anymore.”
“It’s not what you want.”
I pushed him off me and stood up. “You need to go.”
“Fine.” He slipped on his shirt and shoes before grabbing his keys. He went all the way to the door, half opening it, before he turned back. “Even if we don’t end up together, do something about your dad before he ruins your entire life.”
“If you tell anyone,” I threatened, letting the implication hang there.
“Geez, who would I tell?” Liam ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not the enemy.”
Sometimes I wondered.
Chapter Ten
NOW…
Detectives Sanchez and Adams timed my arrest for maximum media coverage. They’d been after me from the beginning, determined to punish me for my friends’ deaths. It was complete tunnel vision. I doubted that they had even considered other suspects.
I hadn’t left my house in days and never went anywhere with my mother even when I could. It was ironic they picked the one time that she’d requested I help her. I’d driven her to her doctor’s appointment, and we’d just parked the car and had exited to walk into the medical building when they swarmed.
My mother walked several steps behind me and I turned to check her progress. It was likely she’d fall and I had to be prepared. She’d taken an excessive amount of medication that morning and was wobbly on her feet and speaking nonsense. She thought she was fine, though. So I had to let her act like she had it all together.
That was when six cop cars with lights on and sirens blaring circled me. They’d come into the parking lot from opposite directions like a movie stunt. It happened so fast that shock held me still. I clutched my keys while my mouth hung open.
The cars stopped, their doors opened, and the cops poured out. Some pulled their guns on me as they stood in the space created by the open door of their cars. There was shouting, but the words didn’t make sense. All I knew was that I was looking at the business end of at least twelve pistols.
My body began to shake. I had no control over it. In my head I screamed at myself to stop, to look cool because I was sure this was going to be recorded, but I couldn’t.
“What’s going on?” my mother screamed, as if it wasn’t obvious. Though maybe the drugs made her slower at realizing the horror playing out. She stepped closer to me; her hands grabbed my arm. “Josiah, what are they doing?”
Focusing on the cops, I tried to understand. Or at least pull myself together enough to reassure her. But my hearing and perception had still not synced. I felt like I was in the middle of a flash-bang with my senses muddled.
Belatedly I realized that they were shouting for me to surrender. I dropped my keys and raised my hands. Understanding that this clichéd moment had been planned for the perfect optics. It felt like a reality show, except I wasn’t getting paid and didn’t want to participate.
After my hands went up, three of the cops holstered their guns and ran to me. One stepped between my mom and I, while the other two flanked me. They grabbed my arms, pulling them behind me, and secured cuffs to my wrists. The cold metal bit into my skin and I swore as they were tightened. My fingers instantly began to numb. One cop began a pat down, checking my pockets, while the other held me still.
“You can’t take him,” my mom yelled, lashing out at the cop in front of her with her phone like it was a weapon.
“Ma’am, please step back.” The officer moved his body to block her. He put his hands out to the sides, indicating he’d push her back if necessary.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked. Then she looked over his shoulder and asked me directly, “Why are they doing this?”
I shook my head. The numbness was getting worse, both in my hands and in my head. I didn't know what was happening any more than she did. Though I could make some pretty good guesses.
“You can’t do this,” she said to the officer after she’d unsuccessfully tried to step around him.
The cop didn’t answer that. Instead he repeated, “Ma’am, you have to step back.”
My mom called my father then and put him on speaker. I heard him threatening the police with a lawsuit. It made me think about the lawyer my dad hired telling us that if it ever came to an arrest, that they’d let me turn myself in without a public incident. It seemed that was a lie. Someone had alerted the media, probably the detectives or more likely the District Attorney. News crews appeared at the edge of the parking lot. Their oversized van logos felt like taunts.
I’d expected something like this would inevitably happen and still it felt overwhelming. It was an election year and I’d been warned that they were going to use my prosecution to make the DA look good. Every moment of my arrest would be captured from several different angles. It would be played repeatedly on television, or YouTube, and studied for nuance so some talking head in a suit could point out on television, “Uh huh, see there! That thing he did with his hands? It means he’s a serial killer.”
I squeezed my fingers for circulation.
The cop behind me said, “Josiah Harrison, you are under arrest for the murders of Zoe Adler, Parker Crandall, and Liam Kirkpatrick…”
Hearing their names was a shot to my system, a living nightmare. Since the trip, my life felt like a dark dream and each moment I’d spent with them in the woods ran in a slow movie through my mind.
I lost control of any calm that I had managed. My heart beat rapidly, and my body shook. Heat spread through my chest as my breath thinned. The lack of oxygen made me dizzy and I began to sway.
The cop steadied me with a hand on my shoulder. “You have the right to remain silent…”
At that point, I couldn’t pay attention. Everything spun. There was an intense screaming inside my head.
“Why are you arresting him?” I heard my mom say.
I didn’t hear the answer.
People had spilled outside the medical building. They held up phones, recording my arrest. I looked away from them too.
Detectives Sanchez and Adams were standing behind the line of cop cars. It was clear by the way they spoke to people and pointed, that they were directing the arrest. There was a smirk on Sanchez’s face, while Adams looked grave. Her hand was in her pocket, opening the flaps of her jacket to show the badge looped on a chain around her neck.
They were to blame for this circus. The embarrassment they were causing me was meant to break me down.
Anger boiled inside me. The burn of it spread across my chest, up my neck, into my cheeks. I felt hot and my body felt loose but weirdly hyperfocused. The cloud of disbelief was now gone.
The cop who gripped my arm started to lead me away.
My mom sobbed now. The other cop had reached to restrain her. But she still tried to reach past him to get to me.
“Can I say goodbye to my mom?” I asked.
“No,” the cop holding me said. “You can talk to her after you’re booked.”
Chapter Eleven
THEN…
SENIOR YEAR, WINTER
Ipushed into the school bathroom, falling forward when my feet tripped against the tile. I righted myself before the row of sinks. My breathing was thick and my head hung forward, my shoulders tight. It might not be the best spot to hide while I processed the fight-or-flight response screaming through my body, but it would do.
The door hadn’t closed all the way before it swung open again and Liam slipped into the bathroom behind me. He looked at me with his eyes wide. Then he turned and locked the door.
My hands shook. I couldn’t get a hold of my panic. I didn’t want him to see me this way. It was cowardly and I knew it. Which made me want to lash out.
Liam reached for me, taking my hand. His fingers were warm against mine as he squeezed. “Josiah, you need to calm down. Breathe.”
I pushed him away.
Turning toward the stalls, I hit the doors, making sure that no one else was in the room. I probably looked unhinged, but I didn’t care. Staggering to the wall, I leaned against it, still breathing heavy.
Liam needed to go away. I needed time to figure out what I was going to do. When he was around, he messed with my head and ruined my plans.
“Josiah, baby,” Liam pleaded. “Look at me.”
God, that endearment on his mouth—
He did this on purpose, twisted me from the inside out in order to tie me closer to him. The endearment was used to force me to listen to him. He didn’t mean the sweetness it implied. And it certainly wasn’t meant to reassure me, because it did the complete opposite.
Crying out, I banged my head back against the wall. The thunk of it reverberated through me. I wanted to crack my skull open and bleed. That didn’t happen, nor was the pain enough to calm my rage.
“It’s going to be okay.” The lies poured from Liam’s lips like sugary candy.
I wanted to scream at him, but my breath still hadn’t settled and if I was too loud, others would come. I felt sick, my stomach a mass of tangles. I tried to dislodge the aching ball of fear in my throat.
We’d almost gotten caught. One moment his lips had been on mine, and the next somebody was walking into the stacks. I shouldn’t have let him convince me that the empty library was the perfect place for a quick makeout session. I’d known the likelihood of us getting caught was high. His lips, and his body, and him—they were too much for me to deny. He called me in that way that no other had. I’d given in like he’d known I would.
