Page 82 of Accidentally Mine
I’m sorry, Claudia.
I’m sorry, Brent.
I hadn’t meant to.But I had destroyed everything.
And I’d destroyed him.Again.
26
Roselynn
Even after Anthony and his father dropped their guns and were herded into the back of police cars by the cops, and the coroner came to deal with Steve, it took me a while to accept that what had been my reality for so many years was now, finally, over.
I sat on the steps of the trailer, watching as the police took the Markins away.I overheard Brent’s police friend, Kyle, telling Brent that they wouldn’t be getting out anytime soon.Even his connections would have trouble getting to Anthony now, considering the rap sheet that had been compiled against him.And there was talk that without Malcolm around, the entire outfit would likely collapse.Their family run mafia would be no more.
And yet, Anthony’s sick stare stayed on me as the police car pulled away.It haunted me long after he left.
I shivered as I realized that it was only that, just a stare.He couldn’t hurt me anymore.
I was free.
Wrapping the scratchy wool blanket an officer had given me around my body, I watched as the paramedics led Claudia out of the trailer and onto a stretcher, feeling guilty even though they’d said she probably just had a small concussion and was going in for safety’s sake.Brent squeezed her hand as she was wheeled into the ambulance, then sat next to me on the stairs, his strong arm wrapping around me.He kissed my temple.“You going to be okay?”
I knew he was worried.I’d barely said a word.But now it was time.Time to tell him everything.“I’m so sorry, Brent,” I murmured.“I never meant for you or Claudia to get embroiled in this.I promise, I’ll tell you everything.”
He hooked a finger under my chin, lifting my face up to him, and kissed me.“I already know.”
I raised an eyebrow.“You do?Everything?”
“Yeah.That you were running from Anthony the night of the accident.That you came back to settle your dad’s affairs and stayed longer than you should have to take care of your aunt, even though you knew you’d be wanted by the police and sought by the Markin family.And that was why you couldn’t stay.”
I sniffled, still unable to believe everything that had happened.“I found out that my father’s business partner had my dad murdered because he was working for the Markins.He lured me back.And Anthony wanted to keep me, like a prisoner.He…” I covered my face with my hands as thoughts of what could’ve happened intruded.“But it’s no excuse for what I did.I endangered innocent lives.Your life.Claudia’s.”
Brent stood up and reached for my hand.“It’s okay now.”
Tears flooded my eyes as he helped me stand and lifted my hands to his mouth, kissing my fingers so gently.My heart fluttered with something it hadn’t felt in years.Hope.
As he was kissing me, a group of kids arrived on the sidewalk riding bikes and started waving and cheering at us.
“We have an audience,” I said, motioning my chin toward them.
He looked up and smiled.
“Hey!”a little boy said.“That your girl?”
He nodded.“Yep.This is my girl.”
His girl.I liked that.Belonging to someone who I knew would never hurt me.Just the words buoyed my spirits.I suddenly felt stronger.I waved at the kids as he wrapped his arms around me.
I turned to him and said, “I know I’ll have to pay for what I did, leaving the scene of the accident.And I’m ready to face whatever consequences I need to.”
It was the feeling of being loved, of belonging, that calmed me even as Kyle came forward and read me my rights, cuffed me, and put me in the back of his squad car.Even in that uncomfortable position, I looked out the window at Brent.He never took his eyes off me, even as the car pulled away.
Ispent two nights in jail and was arraigned Monday morning.Brent bailed me out that afternoon, but because I was determined to be a flight risk, I was fitted with an ankle monitor to make sure that I didn’t cross city lines.It was humbling, walking out of the courthouse with that thing attached to my ankle.I was wearing a skirt and it felt like everyone could see my sins and were thinking the worst of me.I felt like a criminal, and I supposed I was one.
But I’d live with it.The only opinion that mattered to me was that of the man next to me.
We were quiet as he walked with me down the stairs.When I got into his little sportscar—much to my surprise, since I thought Ernest would be driving—he said, “How far can you go with that thing?”
