Page 60 of No Second Chances

“We weren’t proactive enough,” Jake adds. “Neither of us. I was the deputy on record, but Brian loved her. We’re not going to make the same mistake with you. We’re not going to fail you, too.”

My throat seizes up, and my hands start to tremble in my lap. They can’t know. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The lie hurts more than the pain Royal put me through, but I can’t do it. I can’t let them in.

“You lied to Penobscot County Sheriff’s Department. When you told them you were mugged. Your hospital records don’t match that statement, and they were taken as part of the investigation, which you signed off on.” Jake taps a manila folder on his desk, and I think I’m going to be sick.

“Lacerations on your wrist, like someone took a small knife to it, carving into scar tissue.” He opens the file, but Maya is the one who speaks. Like she’s memorized the file. “Lashes, like you’d been beat with a chain. Photographs, Kennedy. Ones that you didn’t want your father or brother to see. Ones that would destroy them. Blood-soaked clothes that had to be cut from your body. That’s not a mugging. That’s rage, pure and hot, and you’re lucky that you survived.”

“I was mugged,” I lie again, but there is no conviction in my voice. There is no commitment, nothing but pain at the truth being revealed.

“They don’t know, do they?” Brian asks gently. “Linc doesn’t know.” He scoffs quietly. “Of course he doesn’t. He’d have tried to kill the man.”

“I know I did,” Jake says quietly. “When Ray tried to murder Margot. When he trapped her in a burning building.” He leans forward, closing the folder. “We’ve all nearly lost someone we love or have almost died at the hand of someone who wanted us gone. Our lives… I think they come with a price that not many are willing to pay, nor are they able to. But, Kennedy, you can’t let this go. You can’t let him get away with it.”

“I know you,” Maya whispers while she reaches back over and takes my hand. “I know you’re not going to recant your statement about what happened that night. I know you’re not going to implicate him. Because if you do, that folder becomes public knowledge. But I want you to think about it,” she says forcefully. “I want you to think about saving the next woman who might become one of his victims. One who might not be lucky enough to survive like you did.”

I don’t know when I start crying in earnest or how long it goes on for. I don’t even care at this point. If Maya knows what is in the file, and Jake has seen the pictures, everyone will know.

Everyone.

“I’ve got to go.” I get up, but they have plenty of warning. Jake leans back and Maya doesn’t try and hold on to me as I let her go.

“Here,” she says. I pause and look down to see she is handing me the file. “Take it home. Remember what he did, from a clinical point of view. It’s something I wish I had done. Instead of living in the memory of the pain he put you through, look at it… And think of what you’d tell a loved one who was in your position.”

I take the folder with trembling fingers and open the door to go back to work.

“You’re on administrative leave for the next week,” Maya says to my back. I hadn’t flinched through anything else they said. Through any of the tears I shed. But that, being forced away from my work because of something like that, it breaks me. “Not as a punishment, Kennedy. Take the time. Decide what you’re going to do. But I hope you do the right thing.”

I walk out without looking back. It isn’t until I’m locked in my house, away from everyone, that I finally break down and open the file. I have both of my machetes next to me on my bed, ready to use if I need them.

Photo after photo spills out onto my bed as I shift the file around, and I mentally walk back into the nightmare that was that night, with eyes wide open for the first time.

Maya and Jake are right. The story I fed the police about a mugging doesn’t match. It’s no wonder that they kept all the evidence. DNA samples taken from the attack are documented in the file, and I know what they will find if they test it against Royal. I know what they will see if they look deep enough into his alibi.

My phone rings after I’ve been staring at the photos for hours, and I’ve almost dried my tears completely.

Linc.

“Hey.” My voice almost breaks on the single word.

“Where are you?” He doesn’t sound angry or frustrated like I think he may. Not Linc. He sounds worried, like he doesn’t want to admit it.

“I’m at my house.” I sniffle.

“Do you want me to come over?” He wants to ask more; I can feel. “If not, it’s okay. I just… I could really use your company tonight if you’re up for it.” He doesn’t mention the fact that we haven’t spent a night apart since we became a couple.

“Linc.” I pause, still holding one of the photos from that night in my hand.

I don’t know what to say. What to do. So I let the silence sit between us while I put my thoughts together.

If I don’t change my statement, Royal is going to get away with Mallory’s murder. I know enough about law enforcement to know that since they lived together, his DNA will be all over the place. I’d been her. I’d been the one he held under the water in the bathtub while he got off on my pain. I should have died.

And I’m the only one who can keep it from happening to anyone else.

“Actually.” I clear my throat and swallow down doubt that I can already feel rising in my chest. “I need to talk to you. Can you meet me at my parents’ house?”

“Sure.” He hesitates. “Is there anything you need?”

“No.” I stare down at the photo. “Oh. You might want to tell my father that he needs to be there too. Since you’re probably still at the office right now.”

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