Undo Me (The Good Ol' Boys #3) (34 page)

I may never be able to stop.

I spent the entire night mourning the loss of something I never had. Our love had been gone for years. After every unopened letter that got returned, after every time the guard came back and told me he didn’t want to see me, every hope, every wish, every maybe simply turned into never. 

Vanished in thin air.

Giselle finally passed out from the exhaustion of her tears and the next morning I made the phone call that kept me up all night.

“We need to talk,” I said.

“Yeah, we do,” Dylan replied.

“Are you busy with someone tonight?” I snapped, regretting my words immediately.

He was quiet for what seemed like forever, and I waited on pins and needles for him to just tell me he was getting married to a woman that wasn’t me.

“Come over at eight.”

“Okay,” I breathed. “I’ll see you tonight.” I hung up before he said anything else.

Terrified that he would change his mind and that I would have to tell him goodbye without us being alone.

One. Last. Time.

I knocked on his door right at eight and I swear a part of me feared that a woman would be there, too. That he was going to introduce us. When he called out to come in, I made my way inside. I couldn’t breathe the entire thirty steps it took to walk into his kitchen.

I knew because I counted.

It was the only way to keep me from passing out from the emotions that I couldn’t control for the life of me.

He was sitting on a barstool at the kitchen island, paperwork scattered in front of him.

“Hey—”

“Do you care to explain to me how my record is sealed?” he asked not taking his gaze from the papers in front of him.

“What?” I asked, taken aback.

We locked eyes.

“I haven’t tried to look for a job, I haven’t had any need or desire to be told I’m a convicted felon and can’t do jack shit with my life. According to Jacob I need to ask you why I got out of prison four years earlier than I was supposed to. Patience has never been one of my goddamn virtues, especially when it comes to your bullshit lies. I pulled up my record and it’s been sealed. Now, are you going to tell me how the fuck that is possible? Or am I going to have to lose the bit of patience I do have left when it comes to you and make you fucking tell me.”

“Dylan, I’ve been trying—”

“You haven’t been trying shit. You want to know how I know? Because I still don’t know the fucking truth!” he roared, making me jump.

“Are you for real? I spent six years trying to talk to you. Trying to see you. Trying to explain. Six fucking years!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

He was over to me in three strides, knocking the stool over. He was in my face before I even saw him coming.

“Do I look like I want to be yelled at? Do I seem like I want to be fucked with? If you really want to start throwing out numbers, Bree, how about we start with the number ten! Ten years I waited for you! Ten years I was left on my goddamn knees with your back turned to me! Ten years of hell! For what? For nothing! For your fucking lies! Ten years you lied to me! Kept me away from my daughter!” he yelled in my face.

“That’s not—”

“Oh, that number’s not good enough for you? How about sixteen, huh? That number better? Sixteen years I’ve been away from my kid!”

I shook my head not knowing what to say to make it better. To make him see reason.

“Still not good enough? How about six then?” he rasped so close to my face that I could physically feel his hate toward me.

My eyes widened, my heart beating profusely with what he was about to say. I didn’t think I would be able to live through it.

I stepped back, and he stepped forward. 

“Six years I stayed locked up behind bars!”

Another step.

“Six more years away from my daughter.”

Another step.

“Six years away from my family and friends.”

Two more steps.

My back hit the wall, and I instinctively placed my hands on his chest. My left palm right over his heart and it was the first time that I ever felt it beating as fast as mine.

He leaned in close to my lips and spoke with conviction,

“Six years rotting in prison for you, for a crime
I
didn’t commit.”

“I never asked you to do that,” she murmured.

“You didn’t have to. When you took the gun out of my holster and shot Jeremy straight in the fuckin’ head you made the decision for me.”

“Dylan, I… God, I barely even remember that day. I already knew it was Jeremy before he ever walked into the bedroom that day. Jesus Christ, Dylan, he raped me the night before. That’s when I knew but he had been dropping hints the whole time. I had to relive that nightmare over and over again. Why the hell do you think you found me in the closet with a knife?”

I leaned back, stunned.

“I tried to tell you. I spent six years trying to tell you the truth. Everything happened so quickly. One minute, I was in the closet praying that day wouldn’t be my last. The next minute you were there, then you were fighting, and… fuck… hearing him talk about that day. The rape. As if it were nothing but a goddamn bedtime story, I just, God, I don’t even know. I can’t even begin to tell you what was going through my head when I pulled that trigger. I had a moment of weakness, and I wasn’t going to let him win that time. I couldn’t. It was like I was there all over again, on that trail, being torn to shreds. I couldn’t even catch my bearings before he told you about Giselle.”

I stepped away from her, pulling my hair back away from my face, holding it at the nook of my neck.

She continued, “I was hanging on by a very thin thread at that point, and all of a sudden I snapped. I didn’t stop for one second to think of the consequences. All I wanted to do was to shut him up. To stop him from talking. To stop him from continuously ruining my life. You took the gun out of my hand so fucking fast, that I didn’t even realize what I had just done. All I remember was you telling me not to say a word until Jacob was present. Fuck… Dylan, I watched you clean the gun. I saw you put your fingerprints all over it. I witnessed you staging it all, wiping his blood on your clothing and it still didn’t click that he was dead.”

She shook her head in disbelief. The agony was clearly written across her beautiful face. As if she was reliving the day all over again.

“I stood there and watched the blood draining from his body, terrified that if I looked away, he would get up and hurt me. He wouldn’t have thought twice, he would’ve ended my life. You took me into the kitchen and sat me on the counter and I swear everything just went in slow motion after that. The phone call to 911 where all you told me to say was “help” into the phone and hang up. The moment you told me to tell the cops you were at Alex’s restaurant and to not say one other word.”

I swallowed hard. The bile rising in my throat.

“They took me to the hospital. I remember them asking me questions, and all I wanted to do was go to you. Find you. But you were already gone. You just left me there, and I didn’t understand why.” Tears formed in her eyes.

“I woke up the next afternoon and Jacob was already there. He had been there all morning next to my hospital bed. He told me that you were placed under arrest for the murder of Jeremy. He told me you admitted to doing it. He told me he spent the entire night with you and you told him over and over again that you killed him. I swear for a few minutes I thought he was right. I thought he was saying the truth.”

“Aubrey—”

“But then I remembered, the whole scene played out in front of my eyes.  I told Jacob you were lying to protect me and that I did it. I pulled the trigger. He told me he knew the truth. He finally admitted that you told him everything, but it didn’t matter because your mind was set and I needed to keep my mouth shut. That you made him promise that he would make sure I never told the truth. I did what you wanted. You wouldn’t even look at me throughout the entire trial, and it took everything inside me not to scream out to the judge that it was me! That I killed him!” she yelled, walking toward me and it was my turn to step back.

“You never let me see you. You never gave me a chance to explain. You fucking hate me for what I did to you! For lying! When all I did was listen to you and kept my mouth shut. Why did you take the fall for me? Please! Tell me why?” She openly sobbed.

“Aubrey, you were in shock when I got there. Fuck, you were in shock the entire time. Especially after you pulled the trigger. The whole fucking time you were repeating ‘Giselle, Giselle, Giselle, how am I going to get her? What did I do?’ I asked you where she was? Where our daughter was? And all you said was Aunt Celeste. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.”

“That doesn’t explain anything.”

“I told you I kept tabs on you. I knew you were getting help. I knew you had started seeing a therapist. When you called me, I was expecting it. I was waiting. Jesus, Aubrey… I went to prison because I figured that it was only a matter of time until you could get Giselle back, especially if she was with your aunt. She needed a mother. She needed you. So, I had no choice in the matter.”

Her eyes widened in realization.

“I did it for her. My daughter. No one else.”

“Your family knows the truth. I told them the truth. My family, the boys, Alex. They all know that you’re innocent.”

I nodded. “I know, but that doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t give me back everything I’ve lost because of you. You’ve ruined my life, and all I’ve ever done is try to save yours.”

“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think it kills me? I love you. Do you hear me? I fucking love you.”

I closed my eyes. I had to. I wouldn’t allow her to see my truths. She didn’t deserve them, not now.

“I went to Jeremy’s dad.”

I immediately opened them, glaring at her.

She didn’t falter. “I was at my wits end. You wouldn’t see me. You wouldn’t read my letters. It had been almost six years, and I couldn’t deal with the fact that there was still four more to go. One afternoon Giselle and I were at your mom’s house visiting. I went into your room to have a few minutes to be close to you. To feel you. I laid in your bed and it smelled like you. I used to hate your scent. I despised it and in that moment I wanted to drown myself in it. I laid there for I don’t know how long, savoring you. When I got up I went into your closet to take home one of your shirts. To bring something back with me, but then I remembered that you kept all your t-shirts in your drawer, so I went in there to find one. I pulled them all out to choose the best one and there before my very own eyes in a zip lock bag, was the shirt you gave me the day I was raped. I lifted the shirt up and my blood covered cotton shorts from that day, fell at my feet.” She shook her head trying to pull herself out of the bad memory.

“I kept them in case you decided to try to find him someday. I hoped that you would change your mind and that maybe keeping the clothes would help with finding the motherfucker who took you away from me.”

She nodded in understanding. “I took them straight to Jacob asking him if there was something that could be done with them, some sort of proof for the DA to show that Jeremy was a violent bastard. Any evidence that would take away some of your sentence. He told me no. Flat out told me there wasn’t a chance in Hell that it would hold up in court.”

I lowered my eyebrows still not following.

“I racked my brain for days. I had to do something. I woke up one morning, grabbed the clothes, packed a suitcase, and took the next flight out to California. I showed up at Jeremy’s parents’ house and threw the clothes on his dad’s desk,” she chuckled.

“He didn’t bat an eye, Dylan. I remembered you told me that he was accused of rape in college and his dad bought the people off. I told him that if he didn’t have you released from prison, I was going to press charges. I would go to anyone that would listen and air all his dirty laundry on national TV and any magazines that would give me a chance. That I wouldn’t stop until everyone knew the truth. He was up for re-election. The scandal would destroy his entire career, and he knew it.” She took a deep breath, walking back and forth telling me her story.

“I told Jacob what I had done, and you were released from prison eight weeks later. Your record had to be sealed. That was another condition for me to keep my mouth shut. You kept the clothes to save me, McGraw, but they ended up saving you.”

“I have been trying to tell you that since you were released from prison, but you’ve barely said two words to me that weren’t in reference to Giselle. I figured that eventually you would apply for a job somewhere or you would need your record pulled up for something. When the time came, you’d seek answers from Jacob and he would lead you to me.”

“Jesus Christ,” he rasped overwhelmed with everything I revealed to him. “So, what, Aubrey? What do you want now? A thank you? Is that what you’re looking for? Or do you want me on my knees again?” he viscously spewed. “This doesn’t change anything. You made the decision to hide my daughter from me. My kid! I got no say in the matter. Not once did you ask me what I wanted. I have missed sixteen years of her life, and for what? After everything I did for you, after ten years of trying to save you from your own demise, that’s how you repay me? You knew! You fucking knew that I would have raised her. That I would have been there for her with or without you. No questions asked. You had every chance to tell me the truth! Every fucking opportunity under the sun to let me know I had a child! Nothing! Not one word!” he roared, pacing the room and pulling at his hair like he wanted to tear it out.

“I used to wish it was dead,” I blurted out the truth. It had been haunting me since the day I found out I was pregnant.

He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me with an expression I had never seen before. One of pure hatred so thick I could almost choke on it.

“The day I found out I was pregnant, I wanted to kill it. I wanted to have an abortion. I wanted nothing to do with the mistake growing inside me, it was a constant reminder of my rape. I bawled my eyes out for two days straight trying to convince my mom and aunt to let me go through with it. They wouldn’t. They told me that I didn’t know if it was
his
.”

“You’re not helping your case, darlin’. Now, you’re telling me they knew the entire time, too? How was I not informed by at least your mom? I could have-.”

“Jesus, Dylan! What did you think was going on when you found me in my room? What did you think I was doing, smashing my fists into the mirror? What do you think I was going to do if you hadn’t barged in when you had?”

He winced. It was quick, but I saw it.

“Exactly. I couldn’t be near you. That day in the abandoned house you weren’t the only one left on your goddamn knees, McGraw! I was, too. I’ve been there the last sixteen years!”

His chest heaved.

“I went to live with my aunt for the entire pregnancy. I was going to give the baby up for adoption. I swear to you on Giselle’s life that I thought it was
his
. Not for one second did I think it could be yours. Not one!” I shook my head, hating the next thing I was going to admit out loud for the first time.

“I thought it was a monster growing inside me, and I can’t fucking tell you…” I whimpered, my voice breaking. “How many times I contemplated doing it myself. Falling down the stairs, taking a coat hanger…” I shut my eyes, the shame eating me alive. “I wanted it dead. I wanted it dead so fucking bad, I couldn’t breathe. I used to pray that I would miscarry or that it would just disappear. How fucked up is that? The entire time I was pregnant I thought about
him
. His hands on me, his body over mine, his voice in my ear. Every single day I went through the rape all over again. I was positive it was
his
child, and there was no telling me I was wrong. I wouldn’t listen. I hated the thing living inside me! There were days where I would go without eating, where I wouldn’t take my prenatal vitamins, where I would miss doctor appointments, in hopes that it would die,” I cried, uncontrollable tears fell from my face.