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When I reached the porch and stood in front of Cal, he turned his face away refusing to meet my eyes.

“Calvin, look at me. Whatever it is, we’ll get through it.” I was just so glad that he was alive. I didn’t care if he’d committed larceny or beat someone senseless or set fire to his dad’s dealership. We all made mistakes and Cal could use this slip-up as a learning experience.

“Go home, Elli,” he said. Calvin’s voice was unrecognizable to me. In fact, the man I once knew was completely transformed before me. His voice, his demeanor, his posture had changed. It was as if the flame inside him had been snuffed out and only a shell remained. His voice was cold and distant, the normal warmth he reserved for me was no longer in it.

“No, I’m not leaving you. Don’t even ask that of me,” I said angrily.

He turned and showed me his cuffed hands. “You won’t have a choice, Ellie.”

I felt a hand on my shoulder and switched my focus only to look into my father’s haunted eyes. “Go home, Ellison. We can talk about this later.”

“Dad, I’m not leaving.” I stood my ground.

“Ellie this isn’t up for debate. I’m not asking.” My father was using his work voice on me, assertive and clear, but soberly calm, the way he spoke to hardened criminals—not his own, and only freaking daughter. He sounded tired and fed up.

I realized in that moment that whatever had happened in that house, was far worse than what I was imagining. I wanted to protest, to fight, to scream anything to stay there with Calvin, but I also knew that wasn’t going to happen. Like a child scolded, I glanced at Calvin one more time, my heart ached at seeing his head hanging, his resolve completely broken.

“Calvin,” I whispered, one final time. He didn’t look up at me. I didn’t know if it was shame or defeat, what powerful force could have broken the bond between us so easily.

“Your father’s right, El. Go home, you don’t need to be here.”

I didn’t want to leave, but I couldn’t fight them both. I wasn’t helpless, but I was traumatized by my past and knew deeply how a single moment could change the whole trajectory of a lifetime. I didn’t want change. What I wanted was to take three steps back in time and prevent this change of course from happening. But I was on the losing team and Dad and Cal were fighting against me.

My only choice was to fold and do as they told me. I wanted to know what had happened, but I understood the technicalities, that they were under no discretion to tell me, but fuck legalities, this was my love, this was my family.

I was just about to let them both have a piece of my mind when I saw it. A body in a body bag, zipped up and being wheeled out onto the porch on a gurney.

I watched my father shake his head in dismay. I observed Calvin’s tense jaw, the blood spatter on his chest and neck and even on his face. I didn’t need a toe tag or a peek inside the bag to identify the deceased.

Monty had gone too far one time too many.

Calvin killed his father.

There was no turning back.

And Cal’s dad wasn’t just any old abuser, he was the president of the toughest gang for miles and miles, with a shit ton of loyal lifetime members and recruits.

Calvin had killed his dad, and in doing so, secured his own death sentence.

Chapter 28

CALVIN

“What happened there, son?” Chief Kraft asked.

We were in the interrogation room, and I realized my ridiculous privilege of being able to give my story to someone who actually cared about me. Kraft wasn’t trying to pump a confession to put me in the slammer, he was trying to get to the bottom of the crime so he could do whatever was best for me.

I couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes, I couldn’t even imagine what he thought of me. He’d trusted me with his daughter, and moreover, trusted me not to be like them, and I’d spent years assuring the Krafts I was more than my father—that I wasn’t a lowlife, a dangerous criminal. Now, I sat before him, a murderer. And what was worse, I didn’t even regret what I’d done. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Monty deserved death for all the hurt that he’d caused.

But Kraft’s eyes were pained, and they reminded me of Ellison’s. I wouldn’t even allow myself to think of her because I couldn’t handle the pain.

“Calvin, I want to help you, but I need you to tell us what happened. The best that you can. You need to walk us through it step by step, from the minute you walked into the house this evening.”


Tags: Mila Crawford Crime