Page 120 of Covenant

I hadn’t even questioned what the consequences might be until everything went to shit. Looking back, I should have known that it was more than a friendship, that the reason I was so heartbroken was because I loved him. Even then.

“It was a setup,” I whisper. “The whole thing.” I remember the flashing lights, the way the cuffs felt around my wrists. How afraid I was. For me but mostly for him.

“Fuck,” Jackson curses. “You don’t think Matthias arranged it, do you?”

“I didn’t at first. I was convinced it was all a misunderstanding.” I choke as my throat constricts at the memory. “Honestly, I was relieved. Fuckinggratefulthat it was me in cuffs, and not Matthias.”

Jackson squeezes my shoulder as I fall silent, swiping at my eyes. Fuckers are leaking without my permission again. “What happened?”

“I was put in a cell,” I say flatly. “Told that the amount of heroin they’d caught me with would see me doing ten to twenty in a maximum security prison. I’d told them that it was a mistake, that I hadn’t known what was inside. That if they went through with this my dreams of being a lawyer would be crushed. And you know what they did?”

Jackson shakes his head.

“They laughed,” I say bitterly. “One even said I was nothing more than naive trailer trash. But the consensus was that I could kiss my fancy college education goodbye, and that I’d only ever see the inside of a courtroom from the defendant’s table.”

“That’s low,” Jackson says. “I take it you didn’t tell them about Matthias.”

“’Course not. If I was going down, I wasn’t taking him with me. Better my life ruined than his. That’s what I’d thought, anyway.”

“What did you do?”

“I called him. You get one phone call, that’s who I chose.”

He stares at me. “What? Why didn’t you call a lawyer?”

I snort. “How the fuck would I have paid them? We were barely on the poverty line on the best of days.”

“But…why Matthias?”

“Because he was my go-to person. I thought…” My voice trails off. “I thought he’d be able to fix it. To explain that it was all a mistake. A misunderstanding. Or, at the very least, he’d have some ideas to help me out.”

“And did he?”

I laugh bitterly, seeking out the stars once more. “No. He never answered.”

“What? Why?” Jackson runs a hand through his hair. “Okay, well, there must have been a good outcome because you’re here with your law degree, and not in jail.”

I shrug. “Honestly? I don’t know what happened. I put it down to pure fucking luck at first. The police left me in jail overnight and the next day, told me the charges had been dropped. Apparently, the dealer came forward and claimed full responsibility.”

Jackson’s face holds a level of doubt that suggests he might make a fine lawyer one day. “That does seem weirdly lucky.”

“And suspicious, right?”

Jackson nods. “Yeah. That too. Why would the guy hand himself in when you were going to take the fall?”

“It’s never made sense to me,” I admit. “At the time, I was just so fucking relieved to be out of there. I wouldn’t do well in prison, so I didn’t really question it. It’s only since I’ve gotten older that…yeah. It’s strange. I don’t get it.”

“What happened then with Matthias?” Jackson asks. “I get that what happened was shitty, but I doubt he meant for any of that to happen. Was it really worth throwing away your friendship?”

My chest constricts tightly and I rub at it absently. “No. It wasn’t. Not for me, anyway. But after that, Matthias blocked my number. I waited for him in our spot for days. Weeks. He never showed.”

The dawning horror on Jackson’s face is a reflection of how I’d felt at the time. How I still feel, if I’m being honest. The slow descent into grief—denial, anger, and finally acceptance. “He ghosted me. And even then I was stupid enough to hold on to hope. All the way up until the day I went to Yale to find that he wasn’t there. He’d switched to another university.”

“Fuck. And you didn’t hear from him again?” Jackson asks, his eyes intent on mine.

“No,” I say softly. “I saw him at a few social events years later, but we never spoke. If he saw me, he’d turn and walk the other way. We didn’t speak again until the day the Buckinghams bought out Lawson and Smith and he was announced as the new partner.”

“I remember that,” Jackson murmurs. “That was meant to be your job, right?”

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