Jaden (Jaded #3)(3)

“You look like you’ve been up for a couple of days now.”

A startled expression flashed over her, but she blinked again and shook it away. Her jaw hardened when she clipped out, “You want to psychoanalyze me? I’ve been up for thirty-six hours now because I’ve got a dead girl that shouldn’t be dead. And you know what really pisses me off? I’m pretty sure the girl who killed her did it out of spite and because her daddy is rich enough to get her off. This girl has some high-powered friends with lawyers that are already pounding our doors down. And I’m wondering which one of your rich boyfriends is paying their salary. So yeah, I’ve lost some sleep. Grace Barton was an innocent little girl who got caught up with the wrong, deadly group. She was playing a game with high stakes that she should’ve never been a part of, and I feel bad for her. I feel bad she ever considered you a friend.”

She shot out of her chair and leaned across the table. Her face was against mine. Her breath was hot on my skin as she snapped, “So cut the bullshit and tell us what happened.”

“I’ve got lawyers asking to see me?”

Her face twitched and her partner let loose curses under his breath.

“I want a lawyer,” I said it so calmly, as if I always sat in that chair, on that side of the table, with my life held in question. I knew my eyes were flat. They always went flat when I was on the attack, but my insides were churning.

Someone killed Grace, and they thought it was me.

Everything happened after that in a blur. They shot out of there with stiff shoulders and anger in their eyes. Three lawyers entered after that, and I thought Denton had sent them. They never questioned me, but they instructed me. I wasn’t supposed to say a word. I would be taken into holding, and I’d have to wait until bail was set. No matter the amount, I was reassured it would get paid.

I didn’t care.

Denton. Bryce. They both had money. So did I. My father made sure my inheritance was substantial before he disappeared years ago.

Then the lawyers told me that my mother was at the police station. She wanted to see me, but I shook my head. I didn’t want to deal with her. I hadn’t for the last few years, why start now? The two, now three, people that I did want to see were advised against coming. Their names needed to be clear from this media frenzy.

My head popped up when they said that, and a lawyer told me as if he were a robot and I were a rock, that paparazzi were already outside. Grace Barton’s death was linked back to Marcus’ and since Bryce was connected, along with Denton, it was going to spread all over the country. A movie star and soccer’s newest star, both in love with the same girl—I couldn’t stop the cringe when I heard that—was gold for social media.

Everyone would know my name.

That was when I stopped listening. I didn’t want anyone to know.

Corrigan’s shout from earlier ripped through me. I never looked at him. I didn’t dare. I would’ve bolted for him, and he would’ve fought for me. And then what would’ve happened? We would’ve both been in police custody. But then again, a small chuckle slipped out, it would’ve been like the old days. Except Corrigan was the one that always seemed to be calling us from the police station, and Bryce and I would come down to post his bail.

The humor left me then. It was me this time, but I wasn’t in for a high school prank.

As I was led through booking and had my prints and my mugshot taken and then was told to wait in an overcrowded cell, I wanted to wake up. I wanted all this to be a dream, a nightmare, but then I found a corner in the back and sat down against the cold wall. I shivered and refrained from hugging myself.

A few girls were already sizing me up.

I wasn’t weak. I wasn’t about to start acting like it now.

I lifted my chin and gazed back. Everything in me was numb now.

I was being charged with Grace’s murder. What worse could happen?

CHAPTER TWO

Lawyers posted my bail that afternoon, and instead of being led out the front, they took me out the back. We went down a flight of stairs and came out into the basement of a parking garage. A black limousine was parked in front, but two of the lawyers directed me to a car behind it. There were two other cars, all black, all nondescript.

We waited a moment, and I stood there while the lawyers bent their heads with a few of the police officers. They kept looking toward the wall and gestured with wide arm movements. It was then I realized I was hearing a buzz. I frowned as I tried to concentrate. That sound wasn’t normal. Something was off, and then I heard a surge of shouts and a few flashes made their way into the basement.

Media.

I glanced up, taken aback. That’s what this whole thing was about. They were creating a diversion for me. What they had said before had been true. But then one of the lawyers came toward me and gestured to one of the smaller cars. As I got in, he sat beside me, and we waited again.

I tried to see from my window. Two police motorcycles passed us. I assumed they took the front. Their lights flashed against the cement wall around us, and then I twisted around. There were two more behind us, along with a squad car. I could only imagine another squad car was in the front as well.

And then we inched forward. The police first, the limousine second, the third and fourth cars after them. We turned right when they inched to the left.

Paparazzi swarmed around them. I couldn’t believe it. There were television camera crews and reporters everywhere. The limousine couldn’t even move. A few men climbed on top of the limousine. Some tried to take pictures through the blackened sunroof.