Page 12 of Watch Me Burn

Ethan shut his eyes, sliding forward to the tip of the couch. Sighing, he said, “Could you brew me a coffee? Or some tea? I need to clear my head for this. I’ve been up for thirty-six hours trying to find you.”

I scoffed at his audacity. “What, I’m supposed to serve you, too? Hey, why don’t I also fix you some dinner really quick while I’m at it! Let’s just forget that you literally just had me pressed against the wall like some rapist!” I threw up my arms in bewilderment.

“Fuck, Anna. Come on. I know I seem like an asshole right now. But trust me, once you hear what I have to say, you might feel shitty for what you’ve done to me. I haven’t gotten to really spit this all out to anyone, because nobody wants to hear the bad guy’s take on the crime, but maybe you all just fucked up big time back then and ruined my life. Ever wondered about that?” Ethan sulked. “I think a freaking cup of coffee is the least you can do after sending me innocently to prison for fifteen years.”

I snarked while leaving the couch to rev up my Keurig machine. Every single day of my life I wondered about the day he was dragged away, driving myself crazy with hate, guilt, then hate again. So yeah . . . if he really was innocent, a coffee would be the least I could do.

While that was getting done, Ethan began blurting out what he had in mind.

“I wasn’t the one who killed your dad,” he said.

“That’s it? That’s your proof of innocence?” I felt an intense urge to seize the machine and unleash its scalding water onto his face. How dare he show up like this, terrifying me, only to manipulate my emotions as the daughter of the victim, armed with nothing more than . . . this?

The coffee slowly drizzled into a mug. I cupped the hot brew in my hands, carefully bringing it to my living room’s glass table.

Setting it before Ethan, I said, “You better have more than that.” Narrowing my eyes at him, I added, “Because if you don’t, I will send your ass right back to prison for the murder of my father. Right where you belong.”

Chapter 5

Ethan

My throat parched at each breath I took. Maybe coffee wasn’t the best choice, but it was something to get the gears of my mind turning. There was clearly more to the murder of Anna’s father than any of us believed, and we wouldn’t reach the truth by simply twiddling our thumbs around at a table.

“So?” Anna said while tapping her foot impatiently. She wasn’t the typical beauty men would run after, but to me, she was just as beautiful as the last time I met her . . . over a decade ago. Brown waves framed her face, swooping down to cupid-bowed lips that were sensually puckered. Fuck, that wasn’t the focus now, but the cleavage my eyes kept drifting to wasn’t, either.

“So, it all started when I visited your house that day. Your brother asked me over to play video games,” I started. I made sure to keep my gaze on her blue eyes the whole time, assuring her I wasn’t spewing bullshit and that I really spoke this from the depths of my heart.

“When I got there and entered the house, he wasn’t in the living room. I later found out he went to the mall with your mom. Probably why he didn’t text me back a time to come over.”

“So you came over anyway?” Anna interrogated me. Her accusatory tone cut me like a knife.

“Of course I did. I came over unannounced all the time. You guys were like the family I didn’t have. Besides, when I realized your brother and mom weren’t home . . .” My voice broke off. Even all these years later, I still could feel that treacherous tingle in my stomach just thinking about it.

“When you realized what, Ethan?” Anna pressed, impatient and irritated.

“When I realized you and I might be alone for a few hours, I couldn’t help but feel excited.”

Finally, Anna was quiet. Her eyes scanned my face, then briefly dropped to my lips—and I knew why. Back then, we weren’t quite boyfriend and girlfriend yet. My friendship to her brother made things a little complicated and we were just kids. But I had no doubt in my heart that I loved her. I always had. And on a few rare occasions, we had exchanged innocent kisses, beautiful moments that had set my body and heart on fire as if someone had lit me up with a match.

“Oh . . .” Anna said, her cheeks turning bright red. “I see. That’s why you stuck around when my brother wasn’t home. You stayed for . . . me.”

A knot pitted my stomach. Gathering my emotions, I continued, “I heard some voices coming from the backyard. As I got closer to your porch, I heard your dad fighting with somebody in the backyard. It sounded pretty intense, so I waited in the kitchen for a bit. I didn’t want to interrupt anything.”

Her eyes were glued to my lips. “What did he fight about? And with who?”

I shook my head. “If only I fucking knew, my life would have been very different. I couldn’t really make it out. The TV was running in the kitchen. All I heard was your dad suddenly yelling, ‘What you gonna do about it, huh.’ Then all of a sudden, it was silent. I went to check up on him—maybe to help, or maybe I was just a nosy little teenage shit, you know.”

Anna swallowed loudly. “And what happened next?”

Raising my shoulders, I exhaled in defeat. “Your dad was already dead by the time I reached him. He was laying at the stairs, motionless, blood all over his head. I dove to his side, of course, praying he was still alive and I could call somebody to save him. But before I could cry for help, someone did come—and it was you, finding me next to your dad’s dead body.”

A grim silence shadowed the room, Anna and I not knowing where to tread from there.

“I remember that part,” Anna croaked. “I was standing there in shock for god knows how long, and you just kept yelling, ‘Oh god!’ My mom came home and called the cops and they arrested you as my mom kept screaming, ‘He killed him!’”

“Yeah, I remember that, too,” I admitted. “Those were some scary times, and I’m still haunted by the aftermath today. Seeing the whole world turn against me, thinking the man I regarded as my own father would never see justice, and realizing that I’d never get a fair trial, is nauseating. So is the part where you accuse me of murder.”

Anna shook her head. “We can’t just pretend it’s that easy. I literally saw you as the last person there. Your hand was covered in my father’s blood. How am I supposed to believe that within seconds, a murderer killed my dad and fled the scene without you even catching a glimpse?”

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