Still Jaded (34 page)

He added, "He should've said his piece, but he should've walked away. I'm just thankful that you couldn't care less if he's famous or not. Any other girl and…never mind. Speaking of stars, what are you going to do about Denton? He's not going away either."

I rolled my eyes. "I like Denton, but come on."

"Denton respects you."

"He didn't before?"

"No. I think he always has, but he was more worried about his sister then. His sister ain't here anymore."

"I know, but he's not family. You are."

His eyes held mine. "So's Bryce."

I gulped and looked away. "I drove here without Bryce."

"What?" he snapped. "He let you? How'd you get here?"

"My dad's car. It's still in the garage."

"He shouldn't have let you. That was stupid, Sheldon. You're so stupid sometimes, and people just let you be stupid. Do you
want
to get killed?"

"I didn't give him a choice. I ran out."

"You're still stupid. Don't do it anymore."

When I saw the emotion simmering in his eyes, I swallowed back my quick denial. If the situations were reversed, I'd
want the same thing. So I nodded. "Okay." Although I couldn't help but think that I'd given that fight up too soon, too easily.

"Thanks." He reached for my hand again.

With our hands intertwined, I sat back and watched television with him. My feet were still on the floor, but I shifted so my forehead was on his pillow, close to him. Corrigan reached up and brushed back some of my hair.

It wasn't long before my eyelids got heavy.

"Sheldon," he whispered.

"What?" I was so groggy.

"Come up here. You can sleep with me." He patted the side of his bed and scooted over.

I snuggled next to him. He tucked me closer and spooned me from behind. Just before I fell asleep, I remember thinking that this wasn't supposed to be how it was… And then I fell asleep.

The next thing I knew, I was blinking awake when a blinding light was switched on.

"Oh! I'm so sorry. Oh goodness. I'm sorry. Go back to sleep." A nurse rushed around the room and a second later the light was turned off.

Before I rolled over and fell back asleep, I glanced at my phone and saw it was blinking. When my hand reached for it, I felt exhaustion through every bone in my body. Then I snapped open the phone and saw the message was from Bryce
.
Cops called. Call them back. Immediately. Where are you?!

"Oh shit!" I jolted upright.

"What?" Corrigan sat up with me, disoriented. "What?"

I dialed Officer Patterson's number, and a second later she answered, "I'm coming to you. The hospital staff just called me."

"What's this about? What's happened?"

There was a pause. "I'm coming to you. Hold on." Then the line went dead.

"What is it? What's going on?"

He sounded still asleep, but I was wide awake. "Something's happened. Something bad."

Corrigan woke up fast. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. It's not you or Bryce. That's all I care about." I sounded strong, but my insides were mush. I just knew that I didn't want to hear whatever Sheila had to say—it was bad. But I couldn't run, not anymore. "I'm going to go. I'm going to meet her out there."

"Why not here?"

"Because…" I didn't have a good answer. I shrugged. "Something tells me that she needs to say this to me in private."

When I reached the door, Corrigan stopped me. "Sheldon."

I looked back.

"Come back and tell me."

"I will."

Then I turned, squared my shoulders, and left for the waiting lounge. It wasn't long before Officer Sheila came through the sliding doors. Her ponytail looked haggard with strands falling out and a few framing her face. Her jeans were ripped and her jacket had blood on it. Her badge flashed bright from where she had pinned it on her belt loop.

No one else was in the lounge. Even the clerk had abandoned her desk.

"What is it?" I stood to meet her.

Regret flashed over her face before it was gone. She erased all of it. She spoke in her professional voice, "Where were you tonight?"

"When?" I swallowed hard. This was not good.

"From the time I saw you till now? Were you with someone?"

I frowned and narrowed my eyes. "I was with, I don't know. I talked with Carolina for a little bit. Then Bryce and I went back to my house until I drove here. I've been with Corrigan since. Why? What happened?"

She visibly relaxed. "You can be accounted for every minute?"

"Yes. Why?"

Her eyes darkened. "Because Grace Barton was found murdered tonight."

THE END

I would like to thank those that helped editing this project with me. You were very patient with me and so extremely helpful! So thanks to Miya, Amanda, and
Beth! Tijan has six more books published through Amazon.com and for more information on Tijan or her other projects, please go to
www.facebook.com/tijans.writings
.

A sneak peek to the conclusion of the Jaded Series is below…

JADEN

CHAPTER ONE

The day they arrested me everything happened in slow motion. They came for me outside of my classroom. It was the last day I had Miss Connors as my professor and she had given me a hug. I stepped through the doorway and two plainclothes detectives were there. Another uniformed officer stood beside them, and then I saw the handcuffs. Their eyes were dead. They didn't care who I was, who I loved, or as I looked over my shoulder at an old mentor—who I disappointed.

Miss Connors had a hand to her mouth, but there wasn't shock in her eyes. That's what stopped me. She wasn't surprised. She had counseled me after Marcus tried to kill me and when I had killed him instead. She'd given me advice and listened to my smartass comments.

She broke through my wall. Not many did that.

When they recited my Miranda rights, my head was bent and I concentrated on breathing. Shallow breaths kept me going, but I knew the rest of my class had stopped to watch. I heard Carolina's voice in the distance, but it was faint. A buzzing sounded in my ear and I couldn't shake it away. Then they pushed me forward. The uniformed cop took hold of my elbow and I was led through the courtyard of the campus.

"Sheldon!"

I heard Corrigan's shout and my heart skipped for a moment. There wasn't disbelief in his voice. He still believed.

As they drove me to the station, I focused on each breath I took. One. Two. They were so shallow, but I kept going. My heart was racing and I frowned at my lap. I didn't want to have a heart attack. Could a twenty-year-old have one? I couldn't stop a sadistic laugh from breaking free as I thought about my life. If anyone would have one, it'd be me.

When I was brought through the station, I felt a burning in my stomach and I lifted my head. Officer Patterson was in front of her desk. Her dirty blonde hair was a mess, but when wasn't it? A cup of coffee was in her hand and I wondered if that was her twentieth. She drank too much coffee. I never cared before, but now I wondered if I should voice my concern.

I was taken to an interview room where my handcuffs were clasped through a peg in the table.

They thought I was going to run. They couldn't have thought I was dangerous.

Another burst of laughter threatened to bubble up. They did think I was dangerous. Who was I? Not a spy. I was a college student. I had two friends, well—Denton had promised only friendship. I had three friends.

They'd seen me through worse. This wouldn't be it.

I never killed anyone. Well…except for Marcus.

A file slammed on the table and I jumped from the sound. A burly man let out a low baritone chuckle, dressed in khaki pants and a blue button-up shirt. The shirt's ends had been loosened and pulled out from his pants. They were still wrinkled.

"She jumps." He sat across from me and threw a leg upon the table. He was the epitome of carefree.

I wanted to snarl at him. I wanted to frighten him back, but I didn't. He wanted that. Already I knew their game; it was what I'd do.

He flipped the file open and yawned.

My eye twitched. The ass yawned. This was my life and he yawned, but I closed my eyes and counted my breaths again. One. Two. Three—

"How'd you know Grace Barton?"

My arm jerked and I drew in a breath. He sounded bored. He asked about my friend and it sounded like he'd rather be taking a dump. He probably would.

"Hey. I'm talking to you." He leaned forward and snapped his fingers near my face.

I wanted to bite them off.

"Jeezus." He turned when the door opened. "She ain't talking."

A feminine voice spoke, "Yet."

She sounded arrogant.

I wanted to sink my teeth into both of them.

"She will." Laughter was evident in her voice as I heard another chair being scraped against the floor. It squeaked under her weight. I wondered if she threw her leg up as well. They would've been a pair.

Then she leaned forward and the amusement was dropped. "Your purse was found in her car."

My heart pounded in my ears again. It was starting to thump so hard, my chest grew painful.

Breathe, Sheldon. One. Two. Three.

"She poured two glasses of wine. We know it was someone she knew. There was no forced entry. She had a movie playing on the television." The woman detective drew in a deep breath and she gentled her tone, "Did you guys used to watch chick flicks together? It’s the latest vampire teen movie; you know the one that's so popular now. A goddamn apple's on the cover of it. You know the one."

I drew in a shuddering breath. Grace had loved that movie. I had loathed it the one time she got me to watch it. I left after thirty minutes, as soon as Bryce got home.

I felt a stab of regret. We'd been good friends then and I had ditched her. Sex with my boyfriend seemed like a better way to spend the afternoon.

So much had changed.

And I swallowed again. Grace was dead.

"A lot of people are scared of you, Sheldon."

The urge to snicker threw me off-balance. Why would I want to laugh at that? And then it clicked. Officer Patterson had told me one time,
'Use their first name. It starts to establish a connection. When they want to pee their pants and you're offering the one bit of sympathy their way, they'll start blabbering like you're best friends. We use it in interrogation tactics.'

The woman detective had started to tap a pen against the table, but she stopped it now. And waited.

They would have to wait forever.

Then she sighed in disgust. "Come on, Sheldon! We're not the enemy. We just want to know what happened. We know you were there that night. We've got your purse—"

My purse had been left in the hospital room, next to Corrigan.

"—and there's some of your hair on the couch. We have your DNA. One of the wineglasses had a thumbprint too. You were there, Sheldon!" She smacked a hand on the table. "Tell us what happened."

"Molls."

"What?" she snapped at him. Then, a moment later, she started again in a calmer voice. "You guys were friends since high school, right? We have her confession on tape about what she did to you. That must've made you mad, huh? She was your friend. From what we've been told, you don't have a lot of friends, but that's because you intimidate people. Don't you, Sheldon? You scare them away before they can hurt you. Isn't that right? Or maybe I have it all wrong. You tell me."

My eyes were still glued shut, but I envisioned her. She said her piece, threw her arms in the air, and folded them behind her head as she leaned back. She was in control again.

Something died inside of me.

They sounded so sure of whatever their accusation was. I tried to remember what happened outside the classroom. What had they said when they put the handcuffs on? "Sheldon Jeneve, you are under arrest for the murder of Grace Barton…"

The rest faded from memory. It happened only twenty minutes ago.

"Look." The guy detective must've gotten bored. His tone was impatient.

He continued, "Let's cut the bullshit, okay? You and Grace were friends. We know that. You had a falling out. We know that too. Then the night she admitted that she was the one who pushed you into a glass table we found her dead. She died at her home; I bet you don't know that tidbit. She was there because we think she was scared of her sorority, the sorority that wanted you to pledge. They wanted you, you bartered for her, and then you backed out. They were stuck with her. Grace was trying to fit in with them. She was desperate for friends—"

"How do you know that?" My voice cracked.

He stopped for a second and then leaned forward. His voice was excited. "How do we know that she wanted friends? Or—"

"How do you know she was desperate?"