“What are you saying, Luke? Why are you telling us this?” Annalisa blurts out, angrily wiping a stray tear from her eye.
He rubs the back of his neck with a little difficulty, looking solemn and regretful.
“I need you to know my side of the story, Anna. I wanted you to know how much I love you and how sorry I am for screwing up.”
Annalisa rears her head back as if Luke had delivered an invisible blow.
He takes a deep breath. “I don’t know if I did it, I don’t know how he ended up at Aiden’s house, or even how I woke up at home this morning. But I know how angry and drunk I was, and everything lines up. If I get arrested and thrown in jail for murdering Greg, I wanted you to know that I didn’t stop trying to see you. I’ll never stop wanting to be back in your life. But if I’m arrested, I don’t know if I’ll even be able to contact you, and I didn’t want you to think it was because I stopped caring.”
No one moves. No one breathes. We’re all just trying to process what Luke just admitted to.
He killed Aiden’s stepfather.
“Well, gang, I guess that mystery is solved. Back to the mystery machine?” Noah imitates Fred from Scooby-Doo as he loudly finishes off the rest of his ice cream.
“Noah,” Charlotte hisses beside him when everyone shoots him a look. “Now isn’t the time.”
“Just trying to break the tension.” He shrugs.
Aiden ignores Noah, his attention still focused on the man who basically just confessed to murdering his stepfather. “Where were you when you found him? How did he end up in front of my house? With my old cell phone?”
“I honestly don’t remember where I found him or how he got to your house. I’m pretty sure I didn’t find him at your house or even on your street. I don’t even think I killed him! But your cell phone …”
“You had his cell phone, didn’t you?” Mason realizes what Luke is saying, not trying to hide the accusatory tone in his voice.
“Well, yes, but—”
“What were you planning on doing with it? Keep it to frame Aiden like you did for Greg’s murder?” Chase narrows his eyes at him, and I squeeze Aiden’s hand, which is still on my thigh.
“What? No!” Luke defends himself a little too loudly, and the other people in the parlor glare at us in annoyance.
They probably think we’re just stupid, annoying teenagers getting into a heated discussion about something of little importance, like what the proper text abbreviations are, when we’re really discussing the intricate details of a homicide.
If only they knew.
Luke lowers his voice. “Look, I found it at the Tracks when the police crashed the party and everyone scattered.”
“You had my phone for almost three weeks, and it didn’t occur to you to give it back?” Aiden says.
Luke opens his mouth as if to protest, but Aiden beats him to it. “Don’t you dare say you didn’t know whose phone it was. Yes, it was locked, but my background picture is of the twins, and I know you know what they look like.”
“Yeah, okay, I knew it was yours. I never got around to returning it. I wanted to use it as an excuse to talk to you, to try to convince you to get Anna to talk to me. I must’ve dropped it when I got in the fight with Greg.”
Annalisa scoffs and crosses her arms. “That’s a stupid plan and it wouldn’t have worked anyway.”
Luke looks directly at her, then speaks only to his sister. “Lise, everything I do, it’s with the single purpose of getting you back in my life. But I don’t think I can fix this fuckup this time. I’ve been arrested before, my DNA and my prints are in the system. It’s only a matter of time until they link me to Greg; I’m probably the last person seen with him anyway. But I’ll never stop worrying about you, never forget about how much I screwed you over, no matter how long I’m in jail. You’re my sister and I love you, and no amount of hatred or resentment you hold toward me can change that.”
I’m not even his sister and still his words pull at my heart-strings. A few more tears escape from Annalisa’s eyes before she swipes at them violently, her eye makeup smudging slightly.
“This is stupid. We’re done here,” she states, trying to get up and leave but failing since she’s in the middle of the booth, surrounded by people on both sides.
She swipes some more tears. “Who’s the dumbass who designed a booth? Did they not think about how much harder they make it for people to storm off?!”
She stands up on the seat and places her combat boot–clad foot directly on the table despite our protests. She ignores us, stepping right up onto the table and walking on it, jumping off just to the left of Luke without looking at him, ignoring the looks of outrage and disgust being sent to us by the other patrons.
“Anna!” Julian calls after her as she storms out of the parlor and into the cold w
inter air.