Something in the Way (Something in the Way #1)(92)

“It’s okay, Birdy. I’ve got this,” Manning said calmly, leaning in. “You did good.”

“No I didn’t.” My voice and hands shook. We were so close. I wanted to feel his stubble on my cheek, to have him whisper in my ear that this wasn’t happening. He couldn’t even touch me with his hands shackled. “This is my f—”

“I did this to myself,” he said. “It was the only way. You have to trust me.”

“But you’re innocent.”

“Be good, Birdy.” He looked at Tiffany. “Thank you for—”

“Defense,” the judge said. “That’s enough. Communicating with the inmate is grounds for arrest.”

“Come on, Manning,” Dexter said.

The man dressed like a security guard grabbed Manning’s arm. “Let’s go, inmate,” he said, leading him away.

Tiffany’s chin wobbled. “Can I come see you?”

“Your sister needs you,” he told Tiffany over his shoulder.

Her contorted expression eased, smoothing out. I looked from her to Manning just as he disappeared into the back.

Dexter stayed with us. “It was the best-case scenario,” he said. “The odds were stacked against him.”

“But he’s innocent,” I said. “I was—”

“I know,” Dexter cut me off sharply. He looked me in the eye. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over. If we do anything more, it can only hurt him.”

My chest tightened. I had to steady myself on the divider. Manning had told me to trust him. Dexter clearly knew about me already. The information I had could make things worse, I understood that—I’d only hoped the opposite was true.

Dexter handed Tiffany a business card and a clear plastic bag with hardly anything in it.

“What is this?” she asked.

“Manning said to give it to you. His apartment keys are in there.” Dexter shook his head. “I don’t think he has anyone else.”

I took the bag from her. There was a pack of cigarettes, keys, some loose papers, a ring, and . . . the bracelet I’d made him. I swallowed back another wave of tears as I took it out. It was worthless, just a few intertwined wax strings, but they hadn’t even let him keep that. This was all that’d been on him when they’d arrested him—which meant he’d also been carrying around the huge and chunky ring at the bottom of the bag. I wasn’t sure what it was or if it meant anything to him. The other morning as we’d walked into Reflection, he’d said he’d wanted to give me something. Maybe this was it. I put both the bracelet and the ring in my pocket before Tiffany could take them.

Dexter had to go. Tiffany and I, out of options, walked back outside. The California sun felt angry, blinding. By the time we reached the curb, I was limping from the blisters the shoes were giving me.

Tiffany noticed. “Wait here,” she said. “I’ll get the car.”

I took off the pumps. Away from Manning, Dexter, and Tiffany, my nose tingled as tears leaked from my eyes. Guilt weighed on my shoulders. I never would’ve jumped in the lake if I’d known how his sister had died. I never would’ve gotten in the truck if I’d known an innocent man could end up in jail. I’d made some huge mistakes, and I didn’t even have the luxury of reaping the punishment myself. The man I’d hurt, the man I loved, had to do it for me. If anyone deserved to be led away into that ominous back room, it was me.

Tiffany’s BMW pulled up to the curb. When I didn’t move, she rolled down the passenger’s side window. “Get in.”

Barefoot, I crossed the pavement and slid in next to her.

We sat in silence a few moments, her staring through the windshield, me out my window at nothing but the building’s beige stucco walls and chipped brown roof.

Tiffany turned off the car.

I looked over at her. “What’re you doing?” I asked.

She kept her gaze forward. “Did you have sex with him?”

My mouth went dry as the car shrunk around us. Sunlight harshened a film of dust on the dashboard. “What?”

She turned to me. My sister’s eyes were as familiar as anything in my life, but I didn’t remember them ever being the glacial shade of blue they were now. “I saw you get into his truck that night. So did you?”

“No.” My voice shook. It never occurred to me someone might’ve seen, least of all her. That’d been over three days ago, and she hadn’t said a word about it. “I swear, I didn’t. All we did was go for a drive.”

“Why should I believe you?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Tiffany. We drove around and came back. He didn’t burglarize any house. We didn’t . . .”

“Say it.”

“We didn’t have sex.”

She grabbed the baggie of Manning’s things from the console and threw it at my feet. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with his shit?”

I picked it up, the keys jangling. “I . . . I don’t know. He has no one else. I guess we—”

She snatched it from me. “There is no we. Are you going to go to a landlord and explain this? You can’t even drive.” Her voice broke. “He wouldn’t even talk to me in there. He only had a few seconds, but you took them. All he said to me was ‘your sister needs you.’”