The Row(19)

I glance over at him, trying to read his face in the moonlight. He stares straight ahead, but he doesn’t look annoyed or bothered at all. I relax a bit, lying back on the sand so I can rest my head, which is starting to swim again.

He gives me a wry smile. “I think you almost hit me with a liquor bottle when I was looking for you.”

I can’t help but laugh. “You have great timing. You’re there to help with my flat tire. And now you show up in time to catch my f-first time drinking.”

Jordan looks a little concerned as I try to prop myself up on my elbows, wobble, and lie back down. “First time, huh? Did you drink the whole thing?”

“No, officer. Just most of it.” I give him a fake salute and he shakes his head.

Drawing a deep breath, I pull myself up to a sitting position next to him.

“And I’m assuming you didn’t just pick today randomly to start drinking.” He sounds hesitant, like he knows he might be prying, but still needs some answers. “You sounded really upset when you called me. What’s going on, Riley? Are you okay?”

I look over at him, wondering how to answer his question. Wondering how quickly he’ll make an excuse to get out of here if I tell him the truth. A soft sob escapes my throat at the thought of being alone in the park again, and Jordan puts one of his arms around my shoulders for a quick, comforting squeeze before dropping it again.

“Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay.” His eyes mean it. And after all this time, I’m so sick of the lies. Daddy was the only one I never lied to, but now I find out he has lied to me at least once … and maybe more.

No matter the cost, I can’t take any more lying. Especially not to the only person who has been a friend to me lately.

“It’s m-my father.” I pull my knees into my chest, wrapping my arms around them.

“I see.” Jordan nods immediately. “Problems with the divorce situation?”

I blink at him before remembering that I had lied about that, too. “Oh … kind of, but I lied to you about that. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry for all of this. I just didn’t…” I’m rambling and my words slur so much that I’m not even sure what I’m trying to say.

Jordan puts a hand on my arm to stop me, with a small frown of confusion. “It doesn’t matter. Just tell me the truth now.”

“My parents aren’t divorced, but Daddy hasn’t lived with us since I was six. He—my f-father is in prison.”

“Oh…” Jordan gives me a sad look. “You don’t have to hide that, Riley. You aren’t the first girl I’ve met with a parent in jail.”

“No, he’s not just in jail.” I bury my head in my arms so I don’t have to see his face as I say the rest. “He’s on death row for m-murdering three women. He’s going to be executed soon—too soon.”

Seconds pass, a minute—and Jordan is completely silent. I groan.

“If you need to leave now, I don’t want to watch you do it, okay?” I whisper into my arms, but loud enough that I’m sure he hears me. My head and heart throb as I finish. “So just go.”

Another minute passes in silence and I finally raise my eyes. Jordan sits beside me, a deep frown on his face. His eyes are closed as he rubs his hand against his temple.

“I said you could go.” My voice is small and I hate it.

“I don’t want to go,” he responds immediately, before opening his eyes and looking straight at me. “What’s your last name, Riley?”

It’s a weird question, but knowing I already lied to him, maybe he wants to check my story. It looks like my family is full of liars. I can hardly blame him. “It’s Beckett.”

“Beckett, okay.” Jordan takes a slow, deep breath. Then he asks the last thing I expect. “How can I help?”

I shake my head in confusion. “Help?”

“Yes. I hate seeing you like this.” He places one hand on mine for a moment. “No matter what your father did, you aren’t responsible. How can I help you?”

I sit up straight and jerk back my hand. “Who says he did it?”

A slight shadow crosses Jordan’s face. “So he told you he’s innocent, then? You believe he is?”

My shoulders slump instantly, because the truth is I have no idea anymore. My head is starting to clear a bit, I feel nauseous, and I’m starting to wish I hadn’t thrown that bottle of rum. Then I’m softly crying and murmuring things that I know I shouldn’t be telling anyone, but I can’t hold the weight of them alone anymore. “He always said he was innocent. For eleven years he’s said that, but today he told me he’s been lying. He said he wants me and my mom to move on. He wants us to l-let him go.”

“Shh. It’s okay.” Jordan scoots closer and puts his arm around my shoulders, pulling me gently against him. After a few seconds, he asks, “Which do you think is the truth?”

I shake my head and it sets my vision swinging. “I really don’t know anymore. I hate that so much. How can I live not knowing who he is?”

He doesn’t respond; he just holds me and lets me cry against his shoulder. He doesn’t hate me because of my father, he doesn’t think I’m weak like my mother does. He just whispers that I’m going to be okay, and that’s exactly what I need right now.