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Chapter Eight

“I need to speak with the prosecutor,” I tell the police officer. I know what Jake said, but there is no way that I’m letting him go to jail for a crime he didn't commit.

“Ma’am, the prosecutor is in meetings all afternoon. Let me get you her card. I’m sure that you can call and make an appointment.”

I am escorted back to the lobby to where I see the same men sitting there from before. It’s hard to believe that only fifteen or so minutes have passed. I feel like in that short time, my entire world has shifted.

I pull out my cellphone and call the number on the card. The secretary tells me she has an opening in a week. A week! That’s crazy. I’m not waiting a week. I look up the office on my phone and see that it’s across the street, on the sixteenth floor. Her picture also comes up on the internet so I know exactly who I’m looking for.

I take the elevator up, giving myself a pep talk. I’m turning myself in no matter what Jake says. I’m not letting him take the fall. I take a seat in the lobby and pretend that I’m supposed to be there. I see a door open and a pretentious looking prosecutor is sitting at a large conference desk surrounded with files and other people.

An hour passes and then another. Finally, the room clears out and the prosecutor walks out. It might be my only chance, and I’m taking it. I follow her towards the restroom and then stop her.

“Excuse me? Ms. Peterson? My Name is June Withers. I need to talk with you about Jake Daniels.”

Her eyes squint on me and I can tell she doesn't like that I’m accosting her in public. “You need to make an appointment, Ms. Withers.”

“Look, I tried and they said it would at least be a week. I have information about Jake that can’t wait a week.”

She squints her eyes at me again and I take a good look at her. She is wearing a designer dress suit. The kind that screams money. Her nails are perfectly manicured and there isn't a hair on her blonde head that is out of place. Her nose is tipped up, like she believes she is superior.

“A plea bargain has already been reached with Mr. Daniels, Ms. Withers, so I’m afraid you’re wasting your time.”

“You need to retract the deal; he’s innocent.”

“He said some girl might try to tell me she did it. Is that you? Do you think you can try and martyr yourself to make his case get thrown out? Do you know how much evidence we have against him? Ms. Withers, I don’t know what you think your play is, but this is done. We gave him the best possible plea deal he could get. If you’re smart, you’ll shut up because the case we have against him is so strong that if you push this, he’ll still be found guilty and he’ll get a heck of a lot more time than the measly four years he got.”

“But you don’t understand,” I feel small and helpless as I say this. This bitch just put me in my place and I don’t know if there is anything I can do to help Jake.

“I understand perfectly. If you try and stick your nose in this case, your “friend” might get real time.” The bitch air quoted me. I hate her. I hate this entire situation. Not even a moment later she walks away from me, leaving me speechless

I drive to Jake’s apartment; the need to be near anything reminding me of him is overpowering. I lift the doormat and find the key Jake showed me. There is police evidence tape and the apartment is wrecked. Not that he had much here to begin with, but what is left is trashed. The only thing worth any real value in the living room is his keyboard. I move my fingers over the keys. Was that only two days ago that I heard Jake’s song. It was like he was screaming at me to see that it was him all along. His words at the police station don't seem to add up. He wasn't going to ever tell me, but his song practically shouted it. Maybe I wasn't met to hear it, but he bled his love out to me in those lyrics. I feel the first tear slide down my cheek, certainly not the last.

I move to his bedroom and it’s equally as trashed. His mattress is flipped and clothes are everywhere. I right the mattress on the bed and grab a dirty shirt from the floor. I slip it on and inhale deeply. I need him surrounding me. I need to make sense of this. He said it wasn't me like he almost believed it when we both know what happened. What did he mean by protecting me and what kind of danger? It was self-defense with his dad. I’m sure we could’ve cleared it up, but that damn prosecutor. I can’t risk him going to jail even longer than he already is. My heart feels so broken and utterly lost. I thought I found the man I loved, the man I would spend the rest of my life with. Even when I thought he was Lucas, I fell in love with him. I didn't want to, but I did and now he’s gone.

I curl up on his bed and bring the blankets around me. I can smell him everywhere. I can still smell us together, like the air knows we were once us, even if the rest of the world will never know that Jake and June were once in love. I push my head into his pillow and grip the sheets I was once so tangled in and that’s when it happens, I lose it. I fall apart, breaking and splintering. I let out a loud scream, angry at Jake, angry at the circumstances and at the world for taking him from me. My body shudders and I break. I don’t know how long I fall apart, but I sob so hard that my body eventually gives out and I sleep.

It’s a restless sleep filled with memories and nightmares of the day Mike Daniels died. The water brought him under over and over again, only this time he popped back out of the water and killed Jake. Jake died in my arms, and I couldn't do anything to help him.

I wake up and hear screaming. It’s loud, hurting my ears. I pause for a moment and realize it’s me. I'm shaking and decide I need to pull myself together.

The sunlight from a new day filters through the curtain. Maybe I can visit him again today and get more answers? On that thought, I gather some of his things from the floor deciding I’m going to keep whatever I want. I pick up a hooded sweatshirt off the floor and find a stack of notebooks. One by one, I scan through them. Song after song fill each page. Some have a few lines written down and others have notes. Most of it is random, but then I find words that I can only hope are about me.

You were my angel

My saving grace

You gave me summer

I gave you me, but the sky grew dark around us.

It darkened everything

It took you, my love

Now all I can do is hate

Another page, more lyrics,

Beyond reproach sweet, sweet bug

Unworthy of your gaze

Battered heart and bleeding pain

Those eyes of yours take it all away

More lyrics,

My sky is darkened gray, but you knew that

Is it dark for you too?

Shadowing everything

My sky eclipsed yours and made your sunshine as dark as night

I’m the monster that they made me

Walking streets all by myself

I have no heartbeat

No soul

I make them bleed

Only you fulfill my need

I gasp reading pages after pages filled with the same heartfelt lyrics. He was in as much pain as I was being separated, and it sound like even more. What could he have gone through? I gather the notebooks in my arms. I want to savor his words and take my time with each song; each note; each written word. They are my lifeline to him, but I also want to see if I can find anything else out.

I go back to the police station and ask if I can see Jake Daniels. They tell me he is in the middle of being transported to The Mansfield Correctional Institute, and that it usually takes a few days for inmates to get settled so I should go visit him then.

How can this be so final, so fast? I leave the police station, stop and get boxes, and go back to Jake’s. I’m packing up his things when I hear, “Whoa, Lucas! Man, are you here?” I come out of Jake’s room and I know I look a mess. My eyes are swollen from crying and I’m listless.

“He’s gone, Dietz,” I cry silently. “I’m packing up his things. I just have to keep busy. He doesn’t have a lot, but is there,” I stutter on my words, “Is there anything you want?” A loud sob escapes my throat. I can’t believe I’m doing this.

“What do you mean gone? Is he...Is he dead?” Dietz asks looking almost as lost as me.

“No, but we're not going to see him again. He took a plea deal and is serving at least four years,” I explain.

“Fuck! What did he do?”

“His name isn’t really Lucas. It’s Jake Daniels and he plead guilty to a crime he didn’t commit.”

“What the hell? Why would he do that? Who is Jake? Who the hell lies like that? He’s one of my best friends and what you're telling me doesn’t add up.” Dietz begins pacing around the living room. Before I can answer him, a short balding man walks into the apartment.

“Excuse me? What are you doing here? No one is supposed to be here.”

“Who the hell are you?” Dietz asks the man.

“I’m the super, and if one of our tenants goes to prison we rent their place. So, I should ask you, who are you? The way I see it, you’re trespassing.” The way this man is talking makes me think he was going to rifle through Jake’s belongings. Plus, how many of his tenants go to prison?

I set the box I was carrying down, “I’m June, Jake’s friend. Jake’s paid his rent through the end of the month, right?”

“Well, yes but…”

“Do you have a copy of his lease? I think I saw it, hang on one second.” I walk into the bedroom, grab the lease from the drawer and return to the living room. Pretending that I’ve already thoroughly read it, I pass it to the super. “Look at that lease and tell me where it says you have the right to a tenant's apartment even if they are incarcerated? It’s not there, is it?” I’m bluffing.

He stutters a little, “I…uh, no, but…”

“But nothing. I’m a journalist for The Scene. I’m sure my editor would love for me to write a piece on how slumlords try to rifle through a tenant’s belongings. And don’t even get me started on the security of this place.”

He puts his hands up in surrender, “Now, now, don’t start getting any ideas. I just didn't want anyone else snooping through his stuff. You clear what you’re taking out of here and then let me know when you’re done. Okay?” he ask. “I’m the first apartment on the left when you walk in through the front,” he finishes leaving the apartment.

“Wow June, you just handed it to that guy,” Dietz says sitting down on the sofa and running his hands through his hair. “So, what do you know?”

“I know that Jake isn’t guilty, but the evidence against him was supposedly strong so he took a plea deal. The prosecutor is a real bitch. I tried to talk to her, and she basically told me Jake was lucky to get such a deal and if I pushed it, he would go to trial and end up in jail a lot longer than the 4 years he’s getting. So he made a plea and they are already shipping him to The Mansfield Prison. The guard told me to give it a few days for the transfer and then I could try and visit. I can’t believe this, it all feels so surreal.”

“Why would he go by a different name, then?” Dietz asks still very shocked by the ordeal. Jake’s words filter through my head, “Promise me you won’t tell them how you know me,” he’d said.

“I don’t know I think he was running from something or trying to protect someone.”

“Who do you think he was trying to protect? The person that really did it?”

Guilt slams through me. I hate this so much, but I promised Jake. He also said I would be in danger. I’m not even sure from whom, but I feel like he’d want me to keep all of this a secret. “I really don't know. All I know is I was falling hard for him, and he’s not who I thought he was,” I say and start crying again. I can’t help it. I thought I’d cried out all of my tears, but maybe when you love someone like I love him, you can never cry out all of your tears. Maybe when you lose a love like that, your tears can be infinite, flowing freely until you find peace or figure out how not to feel. I know I will never be at peace with what Jake has done. I wish I was numb.

“Aww girl, come here,” Dietz says pulling me into his arms. I let him hold me for a few minutes, taking any comfort I can get. I pull away and then say, “I have some boxes. I’m going to take some shirts and a few of his notebooks. Do you want anything? Maybe his keyboard?”

His eyes are soft and I can tell he doesn’t feel comfortable seeing me hurt. “Why don’t you take what you need, and then leave the rest to me?”

“Really? You wouldn’t mind?” I ask.

“Lucas, I mean Jake would want me to. We talked last week and he told me you were the girl for him. I know you two shared something. I’ll take care of it. You call me when you go see him. Let me know if you find any more out, yeah?”

“Thank you,” I say nodding and go back to the bedroom to finish packing what I want. Dietz helps me with the boxes I'm keeping and tells me that he and the guys are going to store the rest of Jake's stuff.

***

I’m lying in bed still wearing Jake’s shirt. I just finished going through his notebooks for the second time. Staring at the wall, I wondering how this all happened. I hear the door to my room open knowing that it’s Liz. “Alright, spill! What’s going on with you? Did you and Lucas have a fight?” Liz asks sitting down next to me on the bed. I turn from the wall to face her. My eyes are swollen from crying.

“Yeah, it’s about him.” I can’t even say his name, it hurts so badly.