Page 87 of Kian

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No school. No job. What would I have then?

These guys. That’s what.

And Kian, a voice said in my head.

But would I?

We’d been together. He saved me over and over again, but Snark’s words were in my head, too.

Did Kian’s team have anything to do with the note going public? It led to my discovery.

No.

I shut that down.

I couldn’t go there.

“The public hates her,” Erica said. The sputtering from the coffee pot died. “Let’s change their minds.”

My head started to fall down, my hands folded together in my lap, but I looked up. Her eyes were clear and bright, determined.

She gazed at me to Wanker and back again. “What do you think?” Her voice was almost upbeat.

Wanker frowned, taking his glasses off. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” She searched for the words. “We do a live interview. Yeah, it could work. Susan got in touch with the local news station when we did that interview and when she was shopping it around. They wanted to buy it. My email was attached on a bunch of those group messages. I know one of the camera guys. We’ve hung out at the Wine Cellar together. He’d help us, or he’d get us in touch with who could help us.”

“You mean, you’d do the live interview?” Wanker’s elbow was propped on the table, and he pointed his glasses from Erica to me. “You would interview Jo…rdan?”

Her head bobbed up and down. “Yeah.” As the idea grew, so did her excitement. Her eyes were brimming with it. “And we’d go live, so nothing could be edited out. This is a great idea, you guys.” She clapped her hands together and extended them to us. “Why aren’t you more excited? This could change everyone’s opinion of Jo—Jordan. She’s never spoken out before.”

“I wasn’t allowed to.” I’d been advised against it.

“But you’re not a kid anymore. You’re of legal age. We should do it. This could take care of everything, if your side is out there. No fires will be started, and no one can twist your words if they’re already out there.” She scooted back her chair. “I think it’s the only option, or Jordan’s going to have to live in fear again.” She stood to get some coffee.

I could already hear Snark in my head, telling me not to do it. And Kian’s team…they’d protect him first. I doubted they would want me to say anything. I didn’t know what Kian would say, and a side of me didn’t want to ask. I should. He deserved the chance to voice his opinion, but in that moment, I was tired.

All the years of hiding.

All the years of being scared.

All the years of holding my tongue.

Erica was right. I’d never been allowed to speak out before. I felt hushed, by both sides of the case, by the social worker, by the police, by everyone. I was tired of keeping quiet. I was tired of listening to everyone else, and right then, right there, my decision was made.

I looked at Erica. Bringing a poured cup of coffee to the table and halfway bending down to sit on the chair, she paused. She held still in the air, her hand a few inches from the table.

Before I said a word, she read my decision. A wide grin appeared on her face. “Yeah?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I said to both of them, “I want to do it.”

Erica dropped the coffee cup on the table, letting the liquid spill out, but she didn’t care. She thrust a fist in the air. “Yes!”

Wanker only frowned. He only slowly put his glasses back on, sliding them up his nose.

I felt good about this. I was doing the right thing…right?

Erica wanted to move as fast as possible. The media was already going full steam about me, and more and more reporters would be arriving throughout the day. The storm was going to triple, but she didn’t need to tell me that.

I already lived through that nightmare.

After she emailed the camera guy, he gave us a time and location to meet. Everything was being set up on his end. He would be bringing along a news reporter, but she swore to secrecy, and it was someone Erica trusted. If Erica was okay with the person’s presence, I was, too. I was giving her all my trust.

As we were getting ready to leave the apartment, I checked my phone for the fifth time in the last few hours.

No call or message from Kian.

I wasn’t sure if that was good or not, but I was still going to do this. I was done hiding. I was done doing what others wanted. Telling my side, this was what I wanted to do. It was what I had to do. It was my way of fighting for my life again, or at least trying.


Tags: Tijan Crime