Let Me Know (19 page)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Amber

I blink at the sight of Marcus. He’s not really here. He’s a delusion brought on by my lack of sleep. My body aches at the sight of him. If this is how it responds to my delusion, how would it respond to the real deal?

I keep staring at him, afraid if I blink again, my delusion will vanish. If I can’t have the real Marcus, the delusion will have to do.

“Amber,” Professor Hale says, intruding on my runaway thoughts. “Amber,” she repeats. “Are you all right?”

Groaning inwardly at how stupid I must look, I tear my gaze away from Marcus and turn to her. “Sorry.” I gather my index cards from the lectern.

“Can I talk to you after class?”

I nod, doing my best to avoid looking freaked out at the request, and return to my seat next to Emma. What the heck could Professor Hale want to talk to me about? I didn’t bomb the presentation. At least I don’t think I did.

“Thank you, everyone, for your presentations today,” the professor says. The room fills with the rustle of winter coats and backpacks, accompanied by laughter and murmured voices as everyone files out. A couple of students walk to the front. I glance back at my delusion. Without even looking at me, he leaves with everyone else.

Disappointment stumbles through me that my delusion couldn’t even smile at me like the real Marcus would—if he were talking to me. Great, even my delusions are ignoring me.

“Why was Marcus here?” Emma pushes herself out of her seat and picks her backpack off the floor. “I thought you guys broke up.”

“You saw him?” I squeak. “You saw Marcus?”

She looks at me like I’m crazy. “Yeah.” The word is drawn out, almost a question. “Didn’t you see him? You looked right at him.”

“I thought I was imagining him,” I mumble and shove my binder into my backpack. I want to race after him, to see why he was here, but I can’t. Professor Hale is waiting to talk to me.

Emma sits back down. “Amber, he must still care about you. I don’t understand any more than you do what’s up with him, but he wouldn’t have been here if he didn’t. He knew your presentation was today.”

“I know, but it doesn’t matter. If he doesn’t want to talk to me, and clearly he doesn’t, there’s nothing I can do.”

Emma shakes her head and stands again. “For someone who’s so smart, sometimes you’re pretty dense. You’ve sent him texts and left messages, right?”

“And he never responded to them.”

“When was the last time you tried talking to him face-to-face?” When I don’t answer, she says, “That’s what I thought. If you love him, Amber, you need to talk to him and find out what’s going on. You two are great together. Don’t let him walk away.”

I stand and she hugs me. Then I walk down the steps to the front. As I approach Professor Hale, the two students talking to her walk off, leaving me alone with her. Emma has left for her next class.

“That was a great presentation, Amber. Both your research and arguments were impressive, as was your delivery. You had everyone hanging on to your every word.” She smiles. It’s a comforting smile, like chicken noodle soup when you’re suffering from a cold. “And I don’t believe for a second the lies circulating about you. No one can give a speech like that without having been impacted the way you obviously have been. Have you given any thought to a career working with children and teens who are victims of crime?”

“I’m not sure what I want to do yet. I only know that I want to help victims find a way to move on.” Like I’ve been trying to move on.

“Well, if you’re interested, I know of a summer internship that you’re the perfect candidate for. It’s nothing heavy. Considering what you’ve been through, it could be a while before you’ll be ready to deal with anything too emotional, but it’s a great place to gain experience, and I know you’ll have a lot to give the kids.”

“I would love that.” The lightness I felt during my presentation comes back for an encore.

“Good. Why don’t you come to my office tomorrow and I’ll give you the application. And I’ll be more than happy to be a reference for you.”

I smile and thank her for thinking of me.

As soon as I exit the classroom, I dodge past students and run to the engineering building. Emma’s right. I need to talk to Marcus. Enough with his stupid silent treatment. I want to know what’s going on with him. And if the relationship really is over, then he owes me the closure I deserve.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Marcus

Amber scans the room and her gaze settles on me as the girl in front of me bends down. She stares for several seconds, blinks, then at the sound of her name, turns to her professor.

The woman talks quietly to her. Amber nods and returns to her seat.

“Thank you, everyone, for your presentations today,” the professor says. The room fills with laughter and talking as everyone packs up to leave. Two students walk down the steps to the front.

I glance toward the door, then at Amber. The dark circles under her eyes warn me she’s had as much sleep as I’ve had. I can’t tell if they’re because of her presentation, which I knew she was dreading, the harassment Jordan told me about yesterday, or because we’re no longer together.

I clench my fingernails into my palms. All my life I’ve been given the fucked-up end of the stick. I finally get something good in my life and it gets fucked up too—and hurts the girl I love.

I leave the room without looking back at her. Coming here was a mistake. I’m supposed to pretend she has never been part of my life, but damn if I can do that. I needed to see her one last time. I was hoping she wouldn’t notice me. The last thing I wanted was to make this harder on her than it’s already been. Chase has been updating me, thanks to Jordan, on what’s going on with Amber and the upcoming trial. Jordan has no idea he’s been passing the info on to me. She can’t know, or else she’ll tell Amber that I still care about her—and that’s the last thing Amber’s mother wants.

I head back to the engineering building. I don’t have a class for another hour, so I don’t exactly rush. Normally, I’d be studying in the library, usually with Amber, but ever since her mom visited me, I’m having a harder time focusing on my studies. Even math is a chore. Maybe it’s because I can’t focus on the subject without thinking of the lame math jokes I used to tell Amber, and how she laughed whenever I did. Every time I do my homework, the beautiful sound of her laughter plays in my head. It’s the only time I’ll hear her laugh again, and that hurts worse than my gunshot wound ever did.

I yank open the door to the engineering building and enter. A few people are walking around the main entrance, but most students are already in their next class. Unsure where to go next, I stand here like an idiot.

“Marcus?” Amber says softly behind me.

I close my eyes, searching for the strength to face her. I didn’t think she would come after me. Or maybe I just hoped she wouldn’t.

I release a long exhalation. It doesn’t numb the urge to envelope her in my arms and smell her strawberry-scented hair. It doesn’t numb the urge to kiss her long and hard. It doesn’t improve my current situation or how I feel.

I open my eyes and turn to her.

Up close, the circles under her eyes are even more pronounced than before, and her clothes hang off her slim body in a way they didn’t use to. The psychopath and I both did this to her. I can’t tell, though, if it’s because she isn’t eating much or if she’s punishing herself again in the gym, or all of the above. She hasn’t been there when I work out, but that’s because I changed the time when I go to the gym so I don’t risk bumping into her.

I try to formulate something to say, but nothing comes to mind. I’m afraid if I open my mouth, the truth will tumble out. I’m not the only one unsure what to say. Amber watches me, her eyes searching my face for any clues as to my asshole behavior.

“I loved your presentation,” I say, finally finding my voice. She had originally planned to do it on a different topic, so I was surprised when she started talking about how children trust the very adults who let them down.

“Thanks. I didn’t realize you were there until the end.”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me there, but I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.” Shit, that was a stupid thing to say. It’s not what you would say if you’re pretending the last four months never happened.

“Even though you had a class then?” She knows I live for numbers and equations, but I needed to see for myself that she’s okay. I know how difficult it is for her to talk in front of an audience. More so now that everyone is more interested in her sex life than what she has to say.

Five guys exit the elevator, talking about the hockey game last night. They spot us and it’s not hard to guess what they’re thinking.
Fuck
. The way their eyes strip the clothes off Amber’s body makes me want to slam my fist into their faces. It’s the same burning need that’s been building inside me ever since Jordan told me the truth.

I place myself between them and Amber.

“‘Sup, Reid?” Owen asks. Of the five of them, he has the worst reputation when it comes to girls. Even worse than mine.

“Not much.”

He nods at Amber, eyeing her with the same predatory look lions get before they go in for the kill. “And how about you? What’s up?”

Even though I shouldn’t, I slip her hand into mine, making it clear she’s with me. I doubt this will get back to her mom, so I’m safe on that front. I’m more concerned about what Amber will think. I’m giving her false hope, but hell if I’m letting Owen think he can harass her anytime he sees her. I’ve asked Chase to look out for her whenever possible, but that will only go so far. He’s not with her all the time, and it’s not like he’s her boyfriend or pretending to be her boyfriend.

A tall, wiry guy smacks Owen’s arm. “C’mon, we’ve got work to do.” While he might have checked Amber out to begin with, it’s obvious he’s not into her the same way Owen is. She’s a beautiful girl he appreciates, but she’s nothing more than that to him. His mouth moves into an apologetic smile.

With the exception of Owen, the guys walk off. He doesn’t seem to have realized they’ve left. He’s still eyeing her. “If you’re looking for a real man, give me a call, sweetheart. I can make you come screaming faster than this dickwad and the other one ever did.”

I release Amber’s hand and step forward, closing the distance been me and the jerkoff. “Come near her again and you’ll be eating your dick for lunch.”

“Is there a problem, gentlemen?”

At the familiar faint southern drawl, Owen’s face pales. I whip around to find Professor Hopkins watching the three of us, his gaze steady, challenging. Rumor has it he once served with the Navy SEALs. He looks as if he still follows their training regime even though he’s in his fifties.

“No, sir,” Owen and I say. I shift on my feet.

“Good. I trust I’ll see you both in class this afternoon?”

“Yes, sir.” Owen practically stands to attention. I nod.

Owen stalks off after his friends.

“While I don’t appreciate your language, Mr. Reid,” Hopkins says, “I appreciate it even less when a man treats a woman with no respect.” He smiles at Amber and strolls toward the stairs.

“Sorry about Owen,” I say. “I’m sure there’re a few women in my program ready to file sexual harassment complaints against him, if they haven’t already.”

“He’s not the first.” She shrugs. “I’m getting used to it.”

She might act as if it’s no big deal, but she’s hurting. The strain of it all is too much. Until those damn letters, she rarely had to deal with comments like that—I mean other than from me when I first met her. But even I was nothing compared to Owen.

“I should go,” I say, struggling to come up with an excuse as to where I need to be. All I can focus on is the beautiful girl in front of me who has my heart and always will.

“What’s going on, Marcus?” Her words are hesitant, curious but afraid at the same time. “I told you the video didn’t matter to me. I understand your reasons for doing it. I mean, unless you got tired of me because I don’t get off on being beaten or tied up and never will.” Her voice cracks.

I’m not sure which hurts more: that she couldn’t tell from all the time we’ve been together that the man in the video couldn’t possibly be me; or she believes I would treat her so callously, and dump her because I’m supposedly into S&M and she isn’t.

“It’s not that. The video isn’t what it looks like. It wasn’t all me. The S-and-M stuff wasn’t me. I told your mom and the cops. They’re investigating where it came from.”

Her eyebrows scrunch together. “My mom? When did you talk to my mom?”

Fuck
.

“I’ve gotta go,” I deadpan. “I have to meet up with Chase to work on an assignment.” I start to back away.

Amber grabs my arm. “This is about my mom, isn’t it? What did she say to you?” I flinch at the bitterness in her tone.

“It has nothing to do with your mom, Amber. The decision was all mine.” And then I go for where it will hurt the most, but will give her a chance to move on. “I got tired of having sex with only one girl. That’s not who I am.” The last part of me clinging on to the hope that I wasn’t the worthless piece of crap Frank believed me to be crumbles away with my last words, the aftermath hidden by the indifference in my tone.

Without giving her a chance to reply, I storm from the building. The last image of her now burned in my brain is the same pained expression the psychopath must have witnessed when he held her captive and tortured her.

Chapter Thirty

Amber

I press the buzzer for Marcus’s apartment. Chase’s car is in the parking lot. Marcus’s isn’t. He still has classes for another hour.

“Yes?” Chase says through the static.

“It’s me, Amber. I’ve come for Smoky.”

“Oh. Okay.” There’s no missing the disappointment in his voice, although he should have known this was coming. I would have picked Smoky up sooner, but part of me had hoped Marcus had been too busy with classes to respond to my messages and texts, and the rumors about our breakup weren’t true. But after I talked to Marcus an hour ago, I realized I’ve only been deluding myself.

The main entrance unlocks and I pull the door open. The building brings back too many memories, most of them happy. All cause me pain. The sooner I leave the better. Naturally, the elevator has other plans. I have to wait longer than normal before it finally arrives. And then it even takes longer to creep up to Marcus’s floor.

They say when you’re in a life-or-death situation, you flashback to the highlights of your life. I’m not sure how true that is. I just know I’m flashbacking to all the hot make-out sessions Marcus and I had while in the elevator, and this isn’t even a life-or-death situation. It only feels like I’m dying.

I walk to the guys’ apartment and knock on the door, bracing myself for a new flood of memories.

Chase opens the door, wearing jeans and a dark gray T-shirt. “Hey.” He moves aside to let me in. I haven’t seen him since before Marcus’s video went viral. He looks nothing like my ex-boyfriend. I’m not talking about how Marcus has black hair and Chase’s hair is dark blond. Chase doesn’t look like he’s been pulling all-nighters for the past week. Marcus looked like he has slept as much as I have. His nightmares must be getting worse. It’s obviously not because he’s struggling with our breakup. Unlike me, he’s already moved on. Maybe even with Tammara.

That thought is a baseball bat to the chest. I’m amazed I can even get air into my lungs with how much it hurts. I avert my gaze, unable to look at Chase, afraid he’ll see the effect the breakup is having on me. He can’t know how much I’m dying. He can’t know how I’m the same empty shell that cuddled with Smoky when we were held prisoner. I need to be brave.

“Smoky,” I call out. Tears distort my voice. Not only did I lose the guy I love, the guy who I once thought loved me, I’m losing Smoky, too. I’m taking him back to Grandma’s, which means I’ll barely see him. While he was living with Chase and Marcus, I saw him at least several times a week.

“No matter what you might think, Amber, Marcus still loves you.”

Hearing those words, the lie, opens something in my chest and the sob building since Marcus told me he was tired of having sex with only one girl breaks free. The last thing I want is for Chase to see me this way, but I’ve long since learned I don’t always get what I want.

Chase gathers me in his arms and lets me cry against his shoulder. I can’t stop. Everything is fueling the tears. Marcus turning his back on me, losing Smoky, losing Michael and Trent, Paul and what he did to me, the media, the harassment because of the letters and the video, the exhaustion I’ve been battling forever. Everything crashes in on me and threatens to take me down.

Chase doesn’t say anything, not even to give me false hope. He tightens his hold on me and doesn’t let go.

I have no idea how long I’ve been crying for—maybe a few minutes, maybe a few hours—when Smoky rubs up against my leg. He always knows when I need comforting and when I’m afraid.

I pull away from Chase and pick up the gray furball. He purrs in my arms as I cuddle him. “Hey, boy. You ready to see Grandma?”

“You don’t have to take Smoky,” Chase says. “You can still visit him here.”

I shake my head. “No, no I can’t. I know Marcus is dating again.” I don’t have to clarify what I mean. We both know the only dating Marcus did before me involved one-night stands. “I can’t bear the thought of seeing him. It will hurt too much.” My voice cracks once more, hinting it’s time to leave before I have another breakdown.

“Look, Amber, I don’t know what Marcus told you, but not everything is what it seems to be.”

I give him a sad smile.
All right
,
you believe that if it makes you feel better
.

Chase helps me gather Smoky’s stuff. I leave the things he bought Smoky, like the carpeted tree, in case they get another cat. Once Smoky is settled in his carrier and my car has been loaded with his supplies, I say bye to Chase. He gives me another hug before I leave. It’s not the last time I’ll see him. Marcus and I might have broken up, but that won’t change his and Jordan’s friendship. And maybe one day I’ll be able to see him without my heart aching at the memory of who his best friend is.

The weather is better than the last time I drove to Crossfields. I talk to Smoky the entire way, but avoid the subject of Marcus and why Smoky couldn’t stay with the guys anymore. I drop him off with Grandma and spend an hour there before heading to Mom’s. While Marcus has made it clear he’s ready to move on, I need to know how much influence Mom had on that decision.

I park in the driveway and let myself in. The familiar smell of spicy chicken casserole greets me. It’s not enough to kick-start my appetite.

Mom steps out of the kitchen. “I didn’t know you were coming today.” She frowns. “Is everything all right?” She looks me over and her frown deepens. I’m wearing Trent’s old hoodie again. I’ve been wearing it a lot since Marcus’s video surfaced. Trent’s scent has long since vanished, but the soft fabric still comforts me.

“I had to take Smoky back to Grandma’s house.”

She doesn’t act surprised by the news. Not a good sign. “Let me make you something to eat. You must be hungry.”

“I’m not. And I can’t stay long. I just want to know what you said to Marcus.”

“What do you mean?” she says, switching into lawyer mode. I recognize it in her calm voice and the way she holds herself.

“You know exactly what I mean,” I snap. I’m tired and I don’t have time for her defense-lawyer games. “Marcus’s sex video goes viral, and suddenly he’s not talking to me.”

“And why would you believe it has anything to do with me?”

I clench down hard on my teeth. I’m surprised they don’t fracture from the force. “Because he told me he wasn’t the only guy in the video. Someone set him up to make it look like he’s into S-and-M. He told you and the cops. When exactly did he tell you that?”

“I don’t remember.” Her voice lacks all hint of remorse for what she did. It lacks all hint of emotion. It’s like she’s an actor, reading her lines for the first time.

“Like hell you don’t. You’re an excellent lawyer because of your attention to detail. I wouldn’t be surprised if you know the exact time and date you spoke to him.”

“Amber, you think you’re in love with him, but he’s all wrong for you. You can do much better.” Her voice remains even. I want to scream at her. I want to ask her if she feels
anything
. I don’t, though, because I know she’s capable of feeling. That’s why she had to block it with alcohol last year. She was feeling too much for her to function normally.

“You’re wrong, Mom. Marcus was perfect for me. You know why? Because he understands what I’ve been through.”

Mom shakes her head. This time when she speaks, her voice is full of emotion. “That’s not true. I understand what you’ve been though.”

“You can’t possibly understand,” I scream. “You think you do. But until you’ve been tortured and raped, you have no idea.” She only understands what it’s like to lose someone she loves.

Mom steps closer. “You’re right. But that doesn’t mean Marcus understands you any better than I do. He was shot, yes, but it’s not the same.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “That’s where you’re wrong. Marcus wasn’t just shot by his stepfather. Marcus and his brother suffered years of physical abuse at the hands of their stepfather. And then when Marcus was thirteen, his stepfather sexually assaulted him and raped his fifteen-year-old brother in front of him, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. The monster killed Marcus’s brother last summer after Ryan tried to save Marcus from being raped by his stepfather, when he held him at gunpoint.” I sniff back the angry tears. “You might not believe Marcus is the right man for me, but I can tell you, there isn’t anyone who is more right for me than Marcus.”

I leave her there standing, her mouth open in shock, and storm out the front door. I hadn’t meant to tell her about Marcus’s past. I was so angry at her for what she did, and how she felt that he’s not good enough for me, the truth kind of came out.

I climb into my car and reverse out of the driveway before Mom has a chance to come after me. I don’t want to give her the opportunity to feed me any more excuses as to why she believes she did the right thing. It doesn’t matter anyway. Whatever she said to him was enough for him to see I’m not worth the effort.

Biting my lip hard to keep from crying, I head to the one place I visited a lot last summer. The cemetery.

The parking lot is empty other than a few cars near the entrance. I pull on my winter coat and trudge past snow-covered graves until I end up at Trent’s. Then I crumple to the ground and start sobbing, much like I did when I was with Chase. The cold temperature of the snow and the air is nothing compared to the chill growing inside me. I don’t say anything. There’s nothing I
can
say. It’s not like I can ask my dead boyfriend for advice.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been crying when an arm wraps around my hunched shoulders. I startle, half thinking it belongs to Trent. I sit up to discover the arm doesn’t belong to my dead boyfriend. It belongs to Mom.

“I figured you might come here,” she says, gaze fixed on Trent’s gravestone. “And I’m sorry. I had no idea Marcus had gone through any of that.” She doesn’t say anything else, and I interpret it to mean it wouldn’t have made a difference. She still doesn’t see him as an equal to me, not like I do.

“He was in juvie because he was caught stealing DVDs,” I say because it’s obvious she holds his stint in juvie against him. He and I might no longer be together, but I want her to see how wrong she is about him. “He was going to sell them so he and his brother could buy food. Up till then, his mom and stepfather couldn’t be bothered to make sure there was enough food for their sons. But that’s not who Marcus is now. He’s been working hard so he could have a better future than the one he had growing up. He’s nothing like them. I wish you could have seen how amazing he is.”

Mom looks away, toward where Michael is buried. “The sex video showed his poor judgment, and it jeopardized his scholarship. I gave him a choice, Amber. You or his future as an engineer. You might not have liked the fallout, but I did it to protect you.”

I vaguely hear the last few words as the part before it plays in repeat mode:
I
gave him a choice
,
Amber.
You or his future as an engineer.

I understand why he chose the route he took, but it doesn’t stop the voice in my head from pointing out one painful fact—he didn’t try to fight for me. He didn’t fight to keep me in his life.