Twisted Minds (20 page)

“Okay,” he said slowly as he made a left turn, “so what are you thinking?”

“I’m not thinking anything,” I said. “I already know who did it.”

“
Nate
,” he hissed in a low tone. His knuckles turned white as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Don’t even say it.”

Logical, rational Finn had jumped to the most obvious conclusion, and even though he didn’t want to admit it, there was a reason why he’d thought of her too.

“We both know Cass is the only one capable of something like this,” I shot at him, relentless.

Maybe if I drilled the truth into his head enough, he would finally open up his eyes and escape from the delusional world he was living in right now.

“Why would she do something like that?” Finn asked, rather stupidly in my opinion.

I stared at him in disbelief, raising a brow. “Really? She has no motive?”

“Okay, fine, she might have motive, but she didn’t do it.” His voice wavered a little as though he was stumbling over a lie.

“You don’t sound too sure about that.” As I said this, I noticed the small church looming up ahead on our left.

“And you sound like a conspiracy whack job.” His voice shook with irritation. “I’m so sick of you focusing on all the negatives about her when there are so many good things about her.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” I challenged, in a spiteful tone. “Her dick sucking abilities?”

“Just fucking stop, okay?” He swerved a little too suddenly into the parking lot of the church. “I don’t want to hear you talk shit about my girlfriend anymore. She had nothing to do with this.”

The finality of his tone told me he was done with the conversation. There was nothing left to say. Pushing the subject was only going to piss him off even more than he was now.

“Sure she didn’t,” came my bitter response.

Finn’s reaction to my theory about Cass had completely blown me away. It was like Cass had somehow brainwashed him into believing whatever she said. Her taunting words came back to me.

The magic of doubt.

It was a chilling thought.

Twenty-Three

Matthew

There was a large group of people gathered outside the church.

On closer inspection, I noticed most of them were rough looking. Some people wore clothes that appeared old and dirty. Others were wearing worn out shoes. Most of them appeared exhausted and defeated, and in desperate need of a shower.

My first reaction was to glance down at my own outfit—a white polo shirt and grey chinos. Pretty standard for me, but in comparison to the people waiting outside the church, I looked like an overdressed douchebag.

Finn and I hopped out of the car, decidedly giving each other the silence treatment like we were eight-year-olds, just as Joe maneuvered the van into the spot next to ours.

“Okay, we need to take everything into the hall,” Theresa said, hopping out of the van and motioning to the small building beside the church. “Let’s get moving.”

It was way too early in the morning for this shit, especially considering we’d had two early mornings in a row. This wasn’t the lifestyle I was used to—I liked to sleep in for as long as I could.

Under strict supervision from Theresa, we began traversing back and forth between the vehicles and the church hall until all the food had been transferred. Finn continued to act like I didn’t exist, but Kira more than made up for his behavior.

As usual, she was all sunshine and smiles as we walked into the hall together, and surprisingly it was directed towards me. She animatedly told me how her mom encouraged them to be charitable and do what they could for the underprivileged in their community. Just like the fair, this had also become a Walsh family tradition.

At some point, she’d pulled her hair up into a messy bun and I liked being able to see the sharp features of her face. She had that pink stuff spread over her lips, and I thought about kissing her.

Kira flushed just then, as though sensing my thoughts. “Will you stop undressing me with your eyes? We’re in a church.”

“Actually,” I said, glancing around, “we’re in a church hall, so I’ll think about undressing you all I want.”

“You’re so full of yourself.” She rolled her eyes at that but didn’t really seem annoyed.

Joe called Kira over just then, leaving me to myself. Finn was standing by his mom, seeming distracted as she spoke to him. Maybe he was thinking about what I’d said to him, or maybe he was just thinking about banging Cass.

Unsure of what to do, I stood awkwardly by a line of tables as the Walshs began setting up the food. The church volunteers greeted me warmly as they walked past with food they had brought. They seemed to know the Walshs really well, and everyone was especially interested in Finn.

My eyes wandered over to Kira, admiring her effortless beauty as she helped Joe organize the beverages. The plaid shirt dress she was wearing showed off her long, toned legs. Those legs had been wrapped around me last night. That body had been beneath mine; moaning, screaming, writhing in ecsta-

Fuck. Kira was right. I probably shouldn’t be having such dirty thoughts, even in a church hall. At best, I should probably be inside the church on my knees praying for my journal to magically show up.

“Nate, come on over here.” Theresa waved me over to the table she was manning with Kira.

From the looks of it, they had set up some sort of a production line. It started with scrambled eggs and then continued on with bacon, beans, muffins, cupcakes, biscuits and gravy, and then drinks at the very end. That’s where Finn was stationed.

Tables had been set up, the way you would find in a cafeteria, with the fold-up chairs placed neatly around them. A few of the volunteers were also in the serving production line, while others were mingling with each other around the room.

“Why don’t you take charge of the bacon?” Theresa suggested, moving over so I had room to stand between her and Kira. “Annie and Jack are cooking more as we speak, so they’ll bring it out when they’re ready.”

“Uh, okay,” I said unsure of myself, glancing around at the trays of bacon in front of me.

“They’re about to open the main doors,” Kira said to me, handing me a paper apron and overwhelming me with the sweet smell of berries that always lingered on her. “Get ready.”

In preparation, I hastily picked up a pair of tongs and glanced towards the entrance. A frail looking lady opened up the doors, and the people I’d caught sight of outside started filing in uncertainly.

The volunteers jumped into action. They smiled and welcomed everyone, guiding them to the serving tables where they began by picking up paper plates and plastic silverware. The first in line was a young woman with a little boy who couldn’t be more than four.

Their clothes showed signs of wear and tear, their hair seemed as though it needed a wash. My attire seemed even more ridiculous now that I was face to face with them.

“Good morning!” Kira said brightly, gesturing at her tray of scrambled eggs. “Can I tempt you with some delicious scrambled eggs today?”

The little boy nodded eagerly, extending his plate.

“Matthew, what do we say?” the woman, who I assumed was his mother, prompted him.

“Please?” he asked in a small voice.

“Of course,” Kira said kindly, giving him a generous serving of eggs.

Matthew moved onto me, his eyes growing large at the strips of crispy bacon. With a pang of sadness, I noticed the ends of his dirty blonde hair were curling into his bright, blue eyes.

“You look like you could use some bacon,” I said with a smile.

“Yes, please,” Matthew said in earnest, holding his plate out.

“Can I ask what your story is?” Kira was saying softly to his mother as she piled eggs onto her plate.

The woman nodded, brushing a stray hair off her face. There was a dark bruise there. “We’ve been living in my car for a few weeks. It’s been hard to feed him.” Her defeated eyes turned to her son as I placed three pieces of bacon on his plate. “My husband, he, um, wasn’t a nice man.”

My eyes immediately shot to the bruise on her cheek, and my stomach churned in rage at the thought that a man had treated her so horribly. With a start, I realized I was a man who treated women horribly.

Feeling deflated, I placed a couple of pieces of bacon on the woman’s plate. I didn’t want to be one of those men—I wanted to be better.

“I understand.” Kira gave her a small smile. “If you speak to Kate, she can help you.” She pointed Kate out, and the woman thanked her and continued down the line with her son.

“Is that normal?” I asked Kira in a low tone.

She nodded. “Yes, and you may not believe it, but I’ve seen worse.”

It was hard to imagine there was worse than that. For the next hour or so, we continued to serve people food as they shuffled down the line. The more I learned about these people’s stories, the more I realized I had existed in a bubble my entire life with no concern for how other people lived.

There was man who’d lost his wife a few years back, and lost his mind over it. He had never managed to pull himself together and now frequented the streets in the downtown area.

An elderly woman had been evicted from her home, and lived in a tiny apartment with her elderly sister, baring able to support themselves and with no one to take care of them.

With each story I learned, my heart sank lower and lower. If I ever told my father about this, he would scoff. Charity was for people who were weak minded. He would never stand for it. He would tell me these people needed to work their asses off and they would be in better positions in life.

But how could a mother fleeing an abusive husband be able to give her son a better life without some help? How could an old woman who could barely take care of herself go out and work?

If people were created equal, then my father’s ideals made sense. But we weren’t created equal. Matthew hadn’t been created equal to me. I had been born into millions of dollars; he had been born into an abusive home and now lived in a car.

“Nate, we’re going to walk around with the leftover food and see if anyone wants seconds.” Theresa told me. “When you’re done, bring the remaining food back to the kitchen so we can pack it up for them to take with them when they leave.”

The question of where they would go was on the tip of my tongue, but I think I already knew the answer. Instead, I swallowed my question down and simply nodded.

Kira helped me heap all the bacon onto one tray and followed me around with the tongs. We paused occasionally, replenishing plates with bacon when requested. Most people turned down seconds, maybe because they knew there would be more left to take with them that way.

Finally, we reached the table in the very corner where Matthew sat with his mother. He was eating his food with enthusiasm, while his mother simply watched him with a smile on her face.

“Give me a sec,” I said to Kira, holding out the tray to her. “I need to do something.”

She nodded, confused, but took it from me and continued distributing bacon to the people around us.

“Hi,” I said to the woman, crouching down beside her. “I’m Nate. I didn’t catch your name.”

“It’s Emma,” she said slowly, taking in my shirt and nice pants.

I cringed, knowing exactly what she was seeing. An overdressed fool who looked completely out of place.

“Um, I know this isn’t much, but I wanted to give you this.” As discreetly as possible, I reached for my wallet and pulled out a bunch of fifty dollar bills. “I thought you could use it for food. Maybe a haircut for Matthew.”

Her face turned red as she stared down at the money in shock and started shaking her head. “No, I couldn’t possibly-”

“Please,” I urged, pushing it into her hand. “Take it. For him.”

Emma’s eyes shot to her son who was devouring his muffin like it was the most incredible thing he’d ever tasted. Her gaze returned to me. “Thank you, Nate. You have no idea what this means to us.”

With a nod, I turned away and almost ran right into Kira. She was watching me with a mixture of fascination and pride on her face. “That was a very kind thing to do.”

“I wish I could do more,” I responded, walking away from the boy I wished could have a better life.

I didn’t say much the rest of the day. We spent a couple more hours in the hall, packaging the leftover food, helping clean up, doing dishes, until finally we packed up the car once more and drove back to the Walshs.

Finn had stubbornly ignored me the entire day, but once we were in the car, he turned to me a little hesitantly. “Hey, I didn’t mean to get mad at you earlier. I guess I’m just a little defensive about Cass.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” I said curtly.

“We’ll find your journal, as soon as we get home, I’ll help you look for it.” From the way he spoke, I knew he really did feel bad that it was missing.

“Thanks,” I said, in a strangely forgiving mood.

My mind was muddied with thoughts of my journal, but also of the people I had met today and what their fates would be. I felt helpless in the face of their adversity. It was funny that this morning I had been so selfish that I had thought my missing journal was more important than a “charity thing”.

At least Finn was delusional about a relationship; I was delusional about the entire world.

“Hey, Finn?” I asked suddenly.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think those people will be okay?” My tone was hopeful. Maybe there were people out there who would help everyone we’d met today.

Finn turned to me in surprise. “Did it get to you?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I guess I just want to know if they’ll be alright.”

Finn let out a drawn out sigh. “Honestly, Nate, I don’t know. All we can do is help them out where we can.”

His answer left me feeling even worse, and when we reached the house, I headed upstairs to be alone for a moment. Today had started off terribly and then ended up on a melancholy note. My emotions were all over the place, and I didn’t know how to feel.

As I pushed open the door to my room, a sickly sweet scent hung in the air. I glanced around, a strange feeling washing over me. And then my mind seemed to spin, because in plain sight, I saw the last thing I had expected to see.

My journal was back, sitting on top of my bag as though it had never left.