Easy (26 page)

Seven weeks could change
everything.

Erin came in from
work before I could formulate a reply to Lucas, if there even was one.
Uncharacteristically quiet and wearing a distracted expression, she peeled off her
work clothes carefully, dropping them into the laundry basket without her usual
garment-flinging tendency.

“Erin? Is everything all right?”

She flopped onto
her bed and stared at the ceiling. “Chaz was standing next to my car when I
came out tonight. Holding flowers.”

I didn’t see any
flowers, so I could only imagine what had happened to them. Probably nothing
good. “What did he want?” I knew exactly what he wanted. I knew what he’d
wanted last Saturday. What he’d probably wanted ever since he’d been dumb enough
to choose his dick of a best friend over his girlfriend.

“He apologized. He
groveled. He said he’d apologize and grovel to
you
if I wanted him to.
He swore he’d never thought Buck would resort to—
that
—to get a girl,
because girls are always throwing themselves at him. I told him three weeks ago
that it isn’t about
sex
. It’s about
dominance
.” She raised up on
her elbows to look at me. “He didn’t listen to me then. And now, when Buck is
about to be arrested and charged with rape—
now
he’s listening.”

I shrugged. “I
guess that guys who’d never do something like that have a hard time believing
some other guy would,” I said, but I could see her point. Awareness and apologies
were fine and good, but they could come too late.

Chapter 21

Kennedy was waiting outside the
classroom Wednesday morning. Avoiding eye contact, I intended to walk by him
into class, but he reached out as I passed. “Jacqueline—come talk to me.”

Allowing him to
pull me a few feet to the left of the door, I faced the classroom so I could
see when Lucas arrived.

He kept his voice
low and leaned one shoulder on the smooth tile wall. “Chaz says you and Mindi filed
police reports yesterday.”

I expected anger
or exasperation, but saw neither. “We did.”

He rubbed a couple
of fingers over his flawlessly stubbled chin—a habit that used to make me want
to do the same. “You should know, Buck is claiming that the thing with Mindi
was consensual, and the thing with you didn’t happen at all the night you said
it did.”

My mouth fell open
and snapped closed. “The ‘thing’ with Mindi? The ‘thing’ with me?”

Ignoring my indignation,
he added, “He apparently forgot that he’d told Chaz and at least a dozen other
guys that you and he had hooked up in your truck, right after the party, before
he got jumped.”

I knew Buck had
spread rumors, but I hadn’t heard the details. “Kennedy, you know I wouldn’t do
that.”

He shrugged. “I
didn’t think so, but I wasn’t sure how you were reacting to our breakup. I did
a few, um, ill-advised things after… I figured you were entitled to the same.”

I thought of
OBBP—Erin and Maggie’s solution to my after-breakup nosedive—and conceded—to
myself—that he wasn’t completely off the mark. Still, I wondered if he’d ever
known me at all. “So you thought I might be so upset over losing you that I’d
start screwing random guys in parking lots?”

He pinched the
bridge of his nose. “Of course not. I mean, I mostly assumed that he was
exaggerating. I had no idea that he’d…” his jaw clenched and his green eyes
blazed. “It never occurred to me that he’d do
that
.”

I was getting sick
and tired of that sentiment.

I saw Lucas
approaching at the same time he spotted me. Without pausing, he walked straight
over and stood next to me. “You okay?”

I’d grown addicted
to that sentence from him, and the way he said it, his voice like steel under
velvet. I nodded. “I’m fine.”

He nodded once at
me and gave Kennedy a quick glance that promised lethal injury if he saw fit to
inflict it.

Kennedy blinked
and looked over his shoulder to watch Lucas enter the classroom. “That guy’s in
our class? And what the hell was that look for?” He turned back to examine my
face more closely as I watched Lucas disappear through the door. “Chaz said
some guy was in the parking lot that night. That he’s the one who beat the shit
outta Buck, not a couple of homeless guys like Buck said.” He gestured with a
thumb. “Is that who he was talking about?”

I nodded.

“Why did you tell
me you just got away?”

“I don’t want to
talk about that night, Kennedy.”
With you
, I added silently. I’d have to
talk about it soon enough, when I had to give a deposition to the defense, and
again when it went to trial.

 “Fair enough. But
you weren’t exactly honest with me the other night.”

“I was honest; I
just wasn’t completely forthcoming. I don’t know why I even told you,
especially after you asked me to drop the charges so the frat could save face—”

“That was a
mistake. One that’s been rectified—”

“Yes, by a bunch
of sorority girls much braver than you. Mindi was about to cave to your
pressure, and if she’d dropped her case, I wouldn’t have had one at all. You of
all people
know
that
. So thanks, Kennedy, for your support.” I
sighed. “Look, I appreciate your talk with Buck, and for what it’s worth, I know
you genuinely didn’t want him to hurt me. But he needs to go to jail, not just
be dressed down by a peer and tossed out of his fraternity.” I spun to enter
the classroom and stopped when he called my name.

“Jacqueline—I’m
sorry.”

Erin was right.
Apologies could come too late. I nodded, accepting his for the sake of
everything we used to be, but nothing more.

Dr. Heller had
begun the lecture, so I slipped into my seat, accepted Benji’s smile of hello,
and gave myself credit for becoming a survivor. I had survived Kennedy’s
decision to end our relationship. I had survived what Buck tried to do to me. Twice.
And I would survive if Lucas wouldn’t—or couldn’t—trust me with his personal
demons.

***

The trees had transitioned from
leafy to bare without my notice. The shift was always a quick thing here—never
a lengthy, multihued transformation like it was further north. Even still, I’d
been too preoccupied to observe the alteration as it occurred. It seemed like one
day the trees were thick and green, and the next, the leaves had vanished
altogether, except in small, dead piles trapped in terraced corners and caught
under border hedges.

The occasional
warm days were gone as well. Lucas and I hunched into our coats, and my scarf
was wound around my neck twice and encroaching on my face. I exhaled into it
and savored the warmth that lasted about two seconds.

Lucas pulled his
beanie lower. “Do you want me to come with you this afternoon? I can get
someone to cover my shift at Starbucks.”

I turned my head
to look at him, but my scarf didn’t turn with me. “No. Mindi’s parents are
here. They’re going to make sure everything’s taken care of for both of us.
They even offered to get me a hotel room—they’re keeping Mindi there with them
for the next week, and then taking her directly back home after finals. Her
dad’s moving her stuff out of her dorm tonight. Erin says they may withdraw her
permanently.”

He frowned. “I
guess it wouldn’t do any good to point out that this could have happened
anywhere.”

I shook my head. “Maybe
once they get over the shock of it. But Mindi might not want to come back
here
,
even if that’s true.”

“Understandable,”
he mumbled, staring straight ahead as we walked.

We were silent
until we got to the small building where my Spanish class was located. “I wish
I could skip again today, but we have oral presentations that count as part of
the final.”

He smiled,
reaching out to loosen a stubborn strand of hair that clung to my lip. I
couldn’t get it with my gloved fingers. His index finger was faintly gray, and
I guessed that he’d been sketching in class today. “I’d like to see you, before
you go home. Outside of Saturday’s class, I mean.” His finger trailed my jaw,
dipping into the pool of scarf and tucking beneath my chin.

I felt my stomach
drop to my feet. I’d become familiar with non-verbal farewells recently, and goodbye
was in his eyes. I wasn’t ready to see it. “I have a solo performance for a
final grade tonight, a mandatory recital to attend on Friday, and my ensemble
is performing Saturday. But I can come over tomorrow night, if you want.”

He nodded, staring
into my eyes, looking like he might kiss me. “I want.” Students still hustled
to their classes all around us. I wasn’t late to class yet, this time. He
pulled my scarf back into place over my chin and smiled. “You look like a
partial mummy. Like someone was interrupted while winding you into your shroud.”

A full smile from Lucas
was so rare. Used to his ghost smile, dark scowls and intense stares, I was so
stunned that my breath faltered. And then I smiled back, and even if he
couldn’t quite see my mouth I knew the crinkles around my eyes replicated those
around his, the darker blue of my eyes connecting with the his gray-blue.
“Maybe I did a hammer-fist strike and bloodied his nose before he could do all
that gruesome mummy stuff to me.”

He laughed softly,
holding the warm smile in place, and I leaned toward him like a flower to
sunlight.

“You are fond of
that hammer-fist strike.”

“Maybe not as fond
as Erin is of all things groin strike related.”

He laughed again
and leaned to kiss my forehead, letting me go swiftly and glancing around. His
smile faded, and I thought I’d probably be willing to do almost anything to
bring it back. “Text me when you’re done this afternoon?”

I nodded. “I will.”

***

I wasn’t sure what I would find
when I googled Lucas’s name Wednesday night. I hoped for an obituary that would
give me a starting point, which I found. Like many obits, the one for Rosemary
Lucas Maxfield didn’t give a clue to how she died. No “in lieu of flowers
please send a donation to” with the name of some awful young-mother-killing
illness at the end. I googled her name, expecting nothing—but multiple articles
popped up, all dated eight years ago. The titles knocked the breath from me. I
chose one and clicked—my heart thumping so hard I could feel the individual beats—while
I wished these commentaries were about someone else’s mother. Someone I didn’t
know.

TWO DEAD IN MURDER-SUICIDE

Authorities
have confirmed the horrific details of a murder-suicide that took place during
an apparent home invasion in the early hours of the morning on Tuesday. Police
say that Darren W. Smith, a local handyman, broke into the home of Raymond and
Rosemary Maxfield through a back window around 4 a.m. Tuesday morning. Dr.
Maxfield was away on business. After restraining her son in his room, Smith
raped Rosemary Maxfield repeatedly before slashing her throat. Cause of death
was massive blood loss from multiple sharp force injuries. Smith then fatally shot
himself. Weapons found at the scene included a seven-inch hunting knife and a 9
mm pistol.

Smith was
one of a group of contractors working on the Maxfield home earlier this summer.
There appears to have been no other connection between Smith and the Maxfields,
despite surveillance-type photos of the family found yesterday by investigators
at Smith’s home. Police believe that Smith was aware of Dr. Maxfield’s absence
from home.

Unable to
get in touch with his wife or son by Tuesday evening, Raymond Maxfield
requested that family friends Charles and Cindy Heller check on them. At approximately
7 p.m., the couple discovered Rosemary Maxfield in her bedroom, covered in
blood, with Smith near her, dead from a self-inflicted gunshot to the head. The
minor child was taken to County Hospital and treated for dehydration, shock,
and minor injuries relating to the restraints, but was otherwise unharmed.

Heller made
a short statement earlier this evening, requesting that the press and the
community allow Maxfield and his son privacy to process the shocking manner in
which they lost their 38-year-old wife and mother. “I was in the army. Special
Forces. I’ve seen some atrocious stuff. But this was the worst thing I’ve ever
come across, and I’ll always regret taking my wife with me that night,” Heller
said. The Hellers and Maxfields have been close friends for sixteen years. “Rose
was an adoring wife and mother, a loving and wonderful friend. She’ll be terribly
missed.”

***

“Thank you for seeing me outside
office hours.” I took a deep breath and sat, hands clenched in my lap. “I need
to talk to you about Lucas. There’s something I need to know about him.”

Dr. Heller’s brows
drew together. “I’m not sure what I can divulge. If it’s of a personal nature,
you should probably ask him.”

I was afraid he’d
say this, but I needed to know more before I saw Lucas again. I needed to know
if that night had been the catalyst for the scars on his wrists, or if there
was something more. “I can’t ask him. It’s about… what happened to his mother.
To him.”

Dr. Heller looked
as though I’d sucker-punched him. “He told you about that?”

I shook my head.
“No. I googled his name, looking for her obituary. When it didn’t give a clue
how she died, I googled her name. Yours was in the article I found.”

He scowled. “Ms.
Wallace, I’m not willing to talk about what happened to Rose Maxfield just to
appease someone’s morbid curiosity.”

I took another
shaky breath. “This isn’t curiosity.” I scooted to the edge of the chair. “His
wrists—they’re both scarred. I’ve never known anyone who tried…
that
,
and I’m afraid to say the wrong thing. You’ve known him all of his life. I’ve
only known him a few weeks, but I care about him. A lot.”