Page 199 of Burning Daylight
Now tears do well. For Tyler. For Roman. For all that could have been, being smashed to pieces in front of my eyes.
My breathing grows rapid, and my vision narrows until the corners darken, andit hurtsto take in air.
“No, it couldn’t have been him. He wouldn’t—he wouldn’t do this.”
But I remember the blood on his shirt. The apology in his eyes. The goodbye in his touch.
He wouldn’t.
Beverly sits me down on my bed, and I blink.
Funny. I hadn’t even realized we had moved from the closet.
“It wasn’t him,” I repeat like a mantra. “Are we even sure Ty is gone? What if… What if…”
“Shh.” Beverly grabs me and pulls me to her chest, and I break apart in her arms, finally crying for Tyler, for Roman, for this mess that seems to be getting worse instead of better.
“He wouldn’t do this,” I say again. “He—he loves me, Bevie.”
She pats my arm and pulls back, staring me dead in the eye. “All men lie, Juliette. All men cheat. They’re all wicked.”
“Not him.” I shake my head vigorously.
I may not know much, but I know my heart. And I know his. Maybe he’s a Montgomery, but he wouldn’t hurt me this way.
But he knew, my mind whispers.
When he came to me last night, a sense of urgency in his touch, maybe he knew that Tyler was gone. And he didn’t tell me.
“I have to talk to him.” I shoot to a stand, and Beverly rears back.
She scoffs. “You willnottalk to the man who killed your cousin.”
“You don’t know he did that,” I say through gritted teeth, anger infusing every piece of me. “And it isn’t as though Tyler would have been welcoming him with open arms. If there was a fight, I’m sure Roman wasn’t the instigator. He wouldn’t.”
But Tyler would.
My heart pitches in my chest, diving into my stomach and bleeding out at my feet. I feel like I’m betraying Tyler for even thinking the words, but in the same breath, I’m betraying Roman if Idon’t.
“Juliette.”
“I need to speak to him, to… Is he in jail? Have they arrested him?”
She shakes her head and breaks her gaze from me, like she can’t stand to look at me anymore. “They can’t find him, Juliette. We have to get you out of here, do you understand? Your mother, she… Well, she’s angry. Devastated. I won’t stand by while they decide what to do to you just to get to him.”
“I don’t understand anything about this. Why do I need to leave?”
She leans forward and grips my arm tighter. Sounds from downstairs filter through the hall and into my room, and hergaze goes to my closed door, and when she focuses on me again, she seems frantic.
“Do you trust me, Juliette? I need you to trust me.”
“Of course I do.”
She takes a flask out of her back pocket, and my eyes widen when she hands it to me. “Drink up. It will help with the nerves.”
I open it and sniff it, grimacing. “Ugh, what is it?”
“Stop asking questions and do it.”
