“I drove here,” I say, leaving out the part that I have absolutely zero intention of leaving.
Mason looks at me as if he can read my mind. “I’ll catch a ride with Amelia.”
“Okay, then, you guys get home safe,” Vince says. “Try not to worry, everything will be all right.”
We say good-bye to everyone and when they’re out of earshot, I turn to Mason. “You know I’m not leaving anytime soon right?”
He rolls his eyes at me and plants his butt firmly in the chair in the waiting area. “Of course I know that. I messaged my dad and told him that I’m hitching a ride with you once this is all sorted out.”
Taking the seat beside him, I slouch back, tired. Despite our rocky start, Aiden’s been here for me every moment of the last few months. He’s helped me out whenever I needed it, even if I didn’t ask him, even when I pissed him off or antagonized him. Like when he got Ethan Moore to take down the video of me that he had posted on the internet, without asking any questions about why I panicked so much. Or when he put up with all my attitude and tutored
me in calculus, helping me pull up my failing grade. Or when our archenemies Kaitlyn and Ryan trashed my car and he brought me to Charlotte’s to sleep while he dealt with the tow truck, the mechanic, and all the repairs, refusing to accept any money. Or like when he won $4,000 racing Ryan at the Tracks and gave it to me to spend however I wanted. Or how he’s basically raising his twin brothers by himself. Aiden’s such a good person with such a genuinely kind soul. The thought of leaving him in jail is unbearable. He might have told us to go home and stop worrying, but I can’t leave knowing that he’s here. I’d be abandoning him in a way, especially after he just found out the real truth about me and wasn’t scared away.
He knows my name isn’t Amelia—he found the shoe box that holds reminders of my past lives; he found out that I am a lying piece of garbage. He opened up to me, something that’s extremely hard for him to do, and I betrayed him. I’ve been lying to him while he’s been completely honest and transparent with me. He was so incredibly hurt when he found out that my entire identity is a lie. The look on his face, that flash of realization that I had been lying, loops around my mind like a car on a racetrack—his complete disbelief and betrayal.
But he understood. He wasn’t mad and he kissed me. He said that he’s all in—so I’m not going anywhere until he’s released. Because I’m all in, too, no matter what happens.
“What do you think he’s thinking about?” I ask, trying to distract myself from my thoughts.
“Probably his brothers,” Mason answers.
“He loves Jason and Jackson more than anything.”
“Do you think Ryan found out about his dad?”
“I don’t know. But I’m completely certain that this is only going to make the hatred Ryan holds for Aiden so much stronger.”
“You don’t think—” Mason pauses, hesitating like he can’t even say the words out loud. “You don’t think Ryan had something to do with this?”
Mason and I catch each other’s eyes for a second, letting the suggestion sink in, before shaking our heads to dismiss that notion.
“No way,” I say. “Why would Ryan kill his own father at Aiden’s house to frame him? Even he’s not that psychotic.”
“You’re right. Ryan might be crazy, but he’s not murder my own dad just to frame my archnemesis crazy.”
Slinking down into my seat, I lean my head on Mason’s shoulder, his familiar cologne giving me some semblance of peace. I’m glad Mason decided to wait here with me. There’s got to be an explanation for what happened. And none of us will stop until we know who really killed Greg.
2
When Brian finally strides back into the waiting room with the officers and lawyer he’d left with, Mason and I sit up with hope. But our hopes are dashed as he disappears almost immediately into the back with barely a glance at us.
Forever passes until Brian comes back out, alone, and sits with me and Mason. We’ve been here for hours now—it’s just past midnight. I’m exhausted, still paranoid every time an officer looks at me as they walk by, my head is pounding from the phones ringing shrilly, and my ass is numb from this stupid chair. If it was up to me, I’d ban this chair from every retailer across America—they’re literally torture.
“What’s going on?” Mason asks. “Where’s Aiden?”
Brian grimaces. “It’s all more complicated than we thought.”
Mason and I share a look. More complicated?
“When Aiden was arrested, they contacted his legal guardian,” Brian continues, “which was Greg’s wife, Paula, who informed them that she hasn’t seen Aiden in who knows how long now, and wants nothing to do with him. She painted an awful picture of Aiden, saying he stole from her, did drugs, ran away from home with his brothers, and so on.”
Liar. Sure, she wants nothing to do with him, but she absolutely wants something to do with the government’s child support checks.
“That obviously led to the question of where Jason and Jackson are, which Aiden refused to answer.”
And risk them going into foster care? I didn’t blame him. Every minute that goes by means that we’re closer to the police calling social services, if they haven’t already.
“Not only did my friend Alan have to get Aiden off a murder charge, but also a kidnapping charge.”