The Row(29)

“Exactly. And then you go and place yourself at the crime scene and start tampering with evidence? You’re now in jail. He’s still going to be executed because with your tampering they can’t even consider the evidence here anymore. Not sure about you, but that’s certainly not the happy ending I’m looking for.” He squeezes my shoulder and shakes his head. “Riley, do me a favor and just try to make them look a little before volunteering to be the next easy mark they can pin a murder on, will you?”

I reach over and give him a tight hug, knowing he’s completely right. Coming here had been stupid. I’d let the need to do something override any common sense. “Thanks. I didn’t realize how bad it could have been.”

“I know you didn’t.” He leans away, and I see a bit of fear in his eyes now as he shakes his head. “This is no game. You can ask all the questions you want of me, of your parents, but now is the time you need to trust me the most. I’ve been fighting for your father as long as you have with very few weapons at my disposal. This morning, someone handed me a loaded gun and only twenty-one days to use it.”

“You think this will finally give us some of the proof we’ve been looking for?” I clench my hands against my sides.

He winks and pats my shoulder. “The way this looks right now, I’m gonna give them hell or die trying.”





13

ON THE DRIVE HOME I bite my nails, thinking how close I’d come to landing myself in a heap of trouble. Everything feels upside down today and it isn’t even noon yet. The sick feeling in my stomach is almost as bad as my hangover had been.

Hangover …

My world comes crashing down as I remember my own confession to Jordan. I close my eyes and groan as I make a quick right turn. At the next stoplight, I pull my phone out of my pocket and bring up Jordan’s info—which is now filed under a very different name. I send him a text just before the light turns green.

Meet me at the park. 20 minutes.

Two minutes tick by without a response. I wait, listening for my text notification as I drive and focusing on breathing slowly. Maybe he’d given up on me. Maybe he didn’t want to see me again after I hadn’t responded. Maybe—

Then my phone dings and I glance down at the screen.

Massive Jerk: I’ll be there.

The sound from the text echoes in my head long after it stops. It sounded more like a death knell.

*

I wait in the park for Jordan to arrive. The sky above is filled with ominous clouds. Rain in Texas is not something to trifle with. That’s fine. I want to keep this short anyway. The idea of seeing him again already fills me with a bittersweet pain. I’d been so wrong to think we have anything in common. Our lives couldn’t be more different. We couldn’t be more different.

People believe Chief Vega is someone to admire and look up to. He works hard to keep us all safe—or at least that’s what everyone thinks. When Jordan and Matthew support their father, they’re heroes. They’re martyrs for sacrificing time with him for the good of the community.

But when I support my father, I’m a monster. The same people call my father a murderer. He is the lowest of the low and we are either sick or foolish for believing him and standing by him when he tells us again and again that he’s innocent.

Devotion counts for little once the world has made up its mind about you.

I see a big dark motorcycle pull in and recognize Jordan’s wavy black hair from across the park when he tugs off his helmet. He pulls a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and puts them on his face, despite the lack of sunshine. When he gets to me, I silently watch him from my spot on the swing. I’m not at all sure where to start.

“I’m glad you texted me.” His face is hard to read with his eyes hiding behind the sunglasses, and he keeps his head straight ahead instead of looking down toward me. All I see when I search his face is the reflection of the dark sky above.

“We need to talk.” I force the words out before we can get sidetracked. “I know you said you haven’t told anyone, but this morning it became really important that you don’t.” I push off my tiptoes, swinging closer to him, and then reach up for his sunglasses. He freezes as I pull them down on his nose until I can see his warm brown eyes. “Please, Jordan. You can’t tell anyone what I said—ever.”

He doesn’t respond. I wait for a few seconds, deciding I need to hear him speak the words. To say out loud that he won’t tell anyone, but a new thought occurs to me and my breath catches in my throat. “You haven’t told your father since we talked last, have you?”

“No.” He pulls the glasses the rest of the way off his face and they dangle from his fingers.

“Good.” I somehow feel more empty and miss Jordan more than before he came. “I hope you’re telling the truth.”

Jordan’s voice floats to me as I head toward the grass, but his words hold a weight that flattens my heart like a rolling boulder. “We should talk about this morning, Riley.”

I stop walking. “Why?”

He crosses to me immediately. Worry, guilt, and sorrow play across his features. I don’t know which I trust to be real. “Why won’t you just talk to me? I’ve known about your dad’s confession almost as long as you have and I haven’t told a soul yet—even though we both know my dad would want to know. What would prove my loyalty to you more than that?”