Unraveled (22 page)

“Clothes,”
he says, his face deathly pale now. “Put some clothes on, Blayre,” he says
tightly.

I'm confused
for a second at his request before it dawns on me that I'm still clad in only a
red lacy bra and panties. I don't want to leave him but Noah's eyes shut as his
jaw clenches. He's clearly not going to talk with me until I put something on.
I do as he says and change within fifteen seconds flat before I am back again.

His eyes
open when I touch his cheek worriedly and he searches my gaze. “What the hell
is going on, Blayre? Who was that guy?”

“It's a long
story,” I say softly.

Noah studies
me. “Cole. It all comes down to Cole, doesn't it?”

I nod and
realize I can hear sirens in the distance. “The ambulance is almost here. I
need to go let them in. Will you be okay?” I ask as I bite my lip and glance at
the now bloody towel.

“Go,” he
says simply.

I nod and
quickly race down the hall and down to the first floor. I can hear the sirens
from the police cars pulling up in the street as I rush through the living room
and yank open the front door. A police officer is making his way across the
lawn, his gun drawn and immediately pointed at me.

“The
intruder is dead. My friend is shot and he needs help. Please,” I say anxiously
as I see more cars approaching and an ambulance pulling up at the curb. The
night is now a mass blur of red and blue flashing lights. Things are hectic at
first as the street is blocked off and police officers swarm the house.

A few
minutes later I find myself in my room—standing out of the way as the
paramedics tend to Noah. I'm relieved to see that he is still conscious and
after telling them that he's deaf, the paramedics are careful to make sure that
Noah can read their lips when they ask him questions.

Tate rushes
through the crowd just as Noah's being put on a stretcher. His face is pale as
he stares after Noah before forcing his way into my room. He yanks me into his
arms and hugs me tightly. “I almost crashed my car when dispatch announced your
call.”

Tears sting
my eyes and I hug him tightly while his belt and gun holster dig into my gut.
Then I pull back and look at him anxiously. “Go check on Noah, please. I don't
want him to be alone.”

Tate frowns.
“I'll be back. I need to hear what went down tonight and why there is a dead
guy in the bathroom.”

I nod and as
soon as Tate disappears down the hall, I look at the two officers still in my
room. One is writing in a small notepad while the other is talking on his
radio. I walk over to the officer writing and he looks up at me. “I'll need
your statement. Do you know who the man is in your bathroom?” he asks.

“I do. But
first I'd like to confess to a crime,” I say as I try to stop my voice from
trembling. It is all going to come out now one way or another. I'd rather do it
myself on my own terms though rather than waiting for the inevitable.

The officer
looks at me with a bewildered expression. “Pardon?”

I look at
him steadily. “I was driving the car the night of the robbery that took Sean
Mathison's life. Blake Thorton and Cole Randall are the ones that robbed the
store. I was their driver.”

“What?” 

I can feel
the blood draining from my face as my shoulders tense. This was not how I
wanted Tate to find out. Slowly, I turn to look at my brother and guilt slides
across my features. “It was me, Tate. I was the driver.”

He shakes
his head, his expression incredulous. “What the hell are you
doing?
Are
you that desperate to destroy your life that you'd make shit up?”

“There was
DNA left at the scene. It's Cole's. A bullet grazed his shoulder.”

Tate stares
at me and I watch as it slowly begins to sink in. The media hadn't been given
that information and Tate hadn't shared it with me. I couldn't have known
unless I'd been there and he knows it. Any color that had been left in his face
now completely drains away as he stares at me with a stunned expression.

The officer
I'd confessed to looks from me to Tate uneasily. “You're related, so I need to
take it from here. You know I need to take her in for questioning.”

My brother
looks like someone's sucker punched him. “Right,” he says hoarsely before he
looks at me with shock still evident in his eyes. “Don't say anything. Not a
damn word until you have a lawyer at your side. I'll call Bryant and have him
meet you at the station.”

“Okay,” I
say softly.

The officer
squeezes Tate's shoulder in assurance. “I'll take care of her,” he says
lightly.

That night
was the end of my life as I knew it. I was taken down to the police department
where Bryant—my lawyer—went over everything with me before he sat by my side
while I was formally questioned and then arrested. Because of the
circumstances, I never got the chance to talk to my brother in private.

I felt numb
as I went through the booking process of having my prints recorded on file and
my picture taken. Due to the lateness of the evening, I had to spend the night
in jail until my arraignment hearing in the morning. It was bad being locked
up, but not as bad as I had originally imagined it would be. I shared a jail
cell with two other women and they ignored me. I spent the night curled up on
the top cot in the cell, praying Noah was okay and that Tate would somehow find
it in his heart to forgive me.

The
following morning I learned that a warrant had immediately gone out last night
for Cole's arrest and they'd brought him in and booked him. It took eight hours
of questioning before Cole finally admitted to his crimes, including Blake's
death. He would be behind bars for a long, long time. He'd be old and gray by
the time he finished serving whatever prison sentence he received. It was
ironic that Cole would no longer have control over his own life after all the
trouble he went through to control everyone around him. He'd abide by prison
rules. They'd tell him when he could eat, sleep, exercise...

Retributive
justice, if you ask me.

As for
me...Bryant requested bail at my arraignment and the judge ruled in our favor.
By two in the afternoon on Saturday, Tate was driving me home from the police
station. Neither of us had said a single word to each other and I feared the
worst.

I wouldn't
blame him if he hates me.

When we pull
up to the house, I realize I've never been happier in my life to see it. As I
gaze up at it, it dawns on me that for the first time ever, I have a home. A
real home.

Or I had.

I still have
a trial ahead of me and for all I know, Tate might want me out of his life
permanently.

After Tate
puts his truck in park and cuts the engine, he glances at me briefly before
climbing out. I follow him and we go inside through the front door. The house
is completely silent and I wonder how long Noah would be in the hospital.

“Sit down,”
Tate says quietly, motioning me towards the couch.

Without a
word, I do as he says and my brother sits down next to me. I look at him sadly.
“It's okay. I understand.”

He frowns.
“I haven't even said anything yet.”

“I know what
you're going to say. It's written all over your face.” I draw in a deep breath
and force myself to continue. “What I did is unforgivable, I get that. I'm sure
you hate me and I deserve it.”

Tate stares
at me long and hard. “You're that insecure that you think your role in the
robbery would destroy my love for you?”

“Well...didn't
it? Sean's dead because of me.”

“Sean's dead
because of Cole Randall. He's the one who pulled the trigger, not you. Yes, you
played a part in it but it wasn't premeditated. Yeah, you should have bailed
the second you realized Cole was up to something bad, but we all make mistakes,
Blayre.”

“You...but...”

“I've had
the whole night to think because God knows I didn't sleep for a second. I'm
disappointed that your decisions have led you here to this point. I'm angry
that you didn't come to me immediately, because if you had, the charges
wouldn't have been as serious as they are now. You had weeks to come forward
and you didn't. It looks bad, Blayre,” he says as he looks me dead in the eye.
“But I also get why you didn't say anything. Cole was dangerous and Bryant will
make that very clear at the trial.”

“I'm so
sorry,” I whisper as tears blur my vision.

“I know you
are and I
forgive
you.”

My eyes
search his. “After everything I've done?” 

“Yes. I
still love you and I will stand by your side through the coming months.
Whatever happens, we'll see it through together.”

“I'm scared,
Tate.”

“Me too,” he
says honestly. “I have complete confidence in Bryant, but there's still the
chance you could go to prison.” His eyes shine with unshed tears. “I want so
much for you. I want you to get better and live free and clear, with no more
pain and guilt. More than anything in the world, I want you to have a real
life
.”

“I want that
too,” I say as a soft sob escapes me.

Tate wraps his
arms around me and hugs me tightly. “Whatever happens, I'll be there.”

“Even if I
go to prison?” I ask, my voice muffled by his shoulder.

“It'll
become my home away from home.”

After a long
minute we pull back and I wipe my tears self-consciously. “Noah saved my life
last night.”

Tate draws
in a deep breath and runs a hand over his bald scalp. “If he hadn't left to go
after you...”

“I had no
idea he kept a gun in the house. Or was it yours?”

He suddenly
gives me a wide grin. “I keep an extra one on hand here at the house. Noah
wanted no part of learning how to shoot a firearm in the beginning when we
moved in, but I talked him into it. I owe him a big fat “I told you so.”

My eyes
roll. “I'm sure he'll appreciate it considering he took a bullet to the shoulder.
Speaking of Noah, is he still in the hospital? How is he doing?” I ask as I
sober up real fast.

“Go see for
yourself. He's in his room resting.”

I find
myself hesitating.

“Go. He
keeps asking for you, even in his sleep. Blayre?”

I wait.

“He loves you,
you know. I can see it now.”

“I know,” I
say softly before I warily rise to my feet and slowly make my way upstairs. I
find myself pausing outside his door, bracing for possible rejection. I've done
some horrible things and I don't expect everyone to forgive me as easily as
Tate has. When I open the door, I find Noah slightly propped up on pillows,
fast asleep. His chest is bare and a huge white bandage spans cross his right
shoulder and part of his chest. The blanket has dropped down to his hips and I
see he's clad in a pair of comfortable pajama bottoms.

I slowly
walk over to the bed and I hate how pale he looks. I also note the bottle of
pills on the nightstand along with a bottle of water. He's probably out cold
and the last thing I want to do is disturb him. I turn and head for the door
but his voice stops me.

“Blayre?”
Noah asks from behind me, his voice slightly slurred from sleep.

I turn and
meet his brown gaze. “Hi,” I say tentatively.

He blinks
hazily. “You really here?”

I walk back
over to the bed and stand near it so he can read my lips. “I was released on
bail.”

His eyes
seem to clear up as they focus intently on me. “Come here,” he says, his good
arm lifting and motioning for me to climb on the bed so I can cuddle up to his
side.

“Shouldn't you
still be in the hospital?”

“They
released me two hours ago. I need to hold you.”

“You do?” I
wasn't sure how he'd feel about me after learning everything.

His eyes
search mine and something twists in their depths. “If I wouldn't have walked
out on my job last night, you'd be dead. It was damn close, Blayre.”

My eyes fill
with tears as I weakly sit down near him and look at his bandaged shoulder. I
don't know how I'd ever be able to go on if I knew he wasn't living and
breathing. “You almost died because of me,” I say painfully.

Noah reaches
for my hand and squeezes it. “I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.”

I look at
him questioningly. I still can't believe he seems to care about me even after
everything has finally come out. There is nothing more to hide. He knows it
all.

“I love you.
And don't you dare start in on how you don't deserve it or my forgiveness. No
one is ever beyond forgiveness. And everyone has a right to be loved, all you
have to do is reach out and accept it.”

“I've messed
up so much.”

“But now
you're going to make it right. It might be a long and tough road ahead of you,
but you won't be alone. Now let me hold you,” he insists.