Page 64 of Forgotten

“Me?”

I nodded. “He thought they could float the idea that you were mad at me. Maybe that I’d made a pass at Amber or something.”

“That rat bastard,” Luke said. “As if I’d kill my own brother and dump his body in the woods.”

“It’s what they would do,” Collin said. “Projection. If it’s a plausible story to them because it fits their actions, then it’s plausibletothem that everyone else would behave the same way.”

“Oland tried to kill me. He deserves to pay for that. If it weren’t for the fact that he only had his service pistol, I fully believe he would have put a bullet in my brain. Fuck him.”

“Fuck him,” Luke repeated. “Agreed.”

The door opened behind him, and Logan and Owen walked in. Logan looked mighty pissed off, and Owen was even more unusually quiet.

“Hey, Tamara just called,” Logan said. “She told me what happened.”

“Jesse said we’re still going after Oland. Fuck him.”

“Right on,” Logan said. “Owen and I are behind you whatever you decide, but… yeah. Oland can eat it. If you want us to go storm the police station right now and tear it down piece by piece, we’re down for it.”

“No,” I said, knowing that wasn’t just fluff. Logan and Owen were the biggest two of all of us and the strongest physically. If they wanted to take every brick apart by hand, they could do it. “I don’t want anyone else in trouble. We will get Oland. But first and most importantly, I need to make sure Charlotte is okay. I know how the Andersons get when they have one of us cornered in jail. If she has a hair out of place, then we can tear the place down.”

Logan nodded. “I’m on it. They won’t mess with me. They don’t want the entire fire department on their ass.”

“Go get her,” Luke said. “And make sure they know that their offer was found to be… lacking.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Charlotte

Weirdly, sitting in a jail cell wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened to me.

For the past couple of hours, I’d been in a small cell, mostly staring at brick walls, and yet, it was the most at peace I’d been in a long time. I feltgood, actually.

All my life, I’d done the right thing. I’d never caused any trouble in school, had good grades, never was out past my curfew, all that stuff. While Tamara tested boundaries, I never did. I went to work as soon as I was able to and created a savings account when I was sixteen. I did my taxes early and always returned the shopping cart to the corral.

The only time I’d ever done anything remotely against the grain was when it had to do with Jesse. Dating him secretly, sleeping with him as a one-time-thing in Oklahoma, kissing him twice while technically having a boyfriend. Now, I was sitting in a jail cell, something Tamara had never done, because I punched a girl in the face after she defended her brother for almost killing Jesse.

What was weird was that I didn’t feel despair or shame. I wasn’t upset with myself. I didn’t blame Jesse or lament that maybe life would have been better, that I would be a better person had I not encountered him. No, I washappy. I was morecontent with myself than I’d ever been. Because the bottom line was, Jesse hadn’t made me do anything. I’dchosento do those things. I’dchosento punch Trish in the face. Me.

And I’d do it again if I had the chance.

Who was I? Who was I becoming?

I wasn’t sure. But I did know that whoever it was, I wasn’t going to fight the transformation. I was looking forward to it.

In the hours I’d spent in that jail cell, I’d made a few decisions about how I was going to live my life. The solitude and time to think provided me with an opportunity. There was a version of me that had gone into this jail, and there was going to be a version of me that was going to come out of it. There was no going back.

The main door opened, and I looked up through the cell bars to see light pouring in.

“Are you decent?”

It wasn’t one of the Andersons, but it was a voice I recognized. All I could see was the arm, holding the main door open, waiting for my response.

“Yes,” I said.

Suddenly, the owner of that arm came into view. Logan Galloway walked in, flanked by one of the rookie deputies, who was fumbling with his keys. Logan found me, clenched his jaw and nodded, and then guided the deputy over.

“Here we go,” Logan said. “I’m here to get you out, Charlotte.”

---