Page 23 of Reckless
As Jaz left to do as she was told, the man corralled me away from her, out of the vestibule and into what looked like a lavish living room. This house was bigger than mine; Oliver had more money than we did. I had no idea why he couldn’t have just taken my dad’s case.
“Who the hell are you?” I asked him once we were alone. Despite everything in me that told me not to pay attention to Jaz, when I heard footsteps and voices disappearing up the stairs, I glanced in that direction.
As, I noticed, so did the man.
He certainly paid a lot of attention to Jaz, didn’t he?
Once the footsteps and voices quieted, the man returned his stare to me. “You can call me Jacob. Don’t worry, I know all about you, Archer, so no need to explain there.” The way he spoke, as if he hated me, as if Jaz had him wrapped around her finger, irritated me to no end.
And, as if those feelings weren’t enough, I did feel a little jealous that he seemed so protective of her. Like he cared about her.
Maybe a bit too much.
“You only know what Jaz told you,” I said, feeling the need to pace the room. I didn’t; I remained still, caught in Jacob’s glare. For a man I’d just met, he really didn’t like me.
Jacob did not hold back, and his words were barbed in venom, “I know what I saw, kid, and what I saw was you bringing her to a party and Jaz stumbling out later, drugged to the point where she could hardly walk.”
Drugged.
This man somehow knew about the night I was least proud of, the night I do wish I could take back. He knew, and he hated me for it. His hatred was pointless, though, as I had nothing to do with it—but that meant someone else did. Did Brittany really drug Jaz? Ryan had made comments about Brittany telling him it was okay to take her and have a little fun in the locker room, and Jaz had tried to tell me about it, but I’d been too bullheaded.
Something strange occurred to me right then, something that I probably should’ve realized before. If Jaz was drugged…could I have been drugged, too? After all, I woke up the next morning not quite remembering the night before, even though I didn’t drink much at all. Brittany had sworn up and down to me we’d been careful, but now I wondered if it was all a ploy.
Did Brittany feel me slipping away from her and try to use me that night, try to get herself pregnant? It was possible it was all a lie. I knew I wasn’t the only liar in Midpark; we all were, to some extent.
Did it matter, though? Brittany was dead now. Whatever her sins were in the past were just that.
“So you know what?” Jacob scoffed, practically sneering at me, “Forgive me if I don’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth.”
I knew there was a lot I could’ve said in that moment to try to defend myself, but all I said was, “Point taken.” Jacob was clearly on Jaz’s side, and nothing I could say would sway him. Maybe this whole thing, me trying to meet with Oliver and explain my case, was pointless after all.
Maybe there was just something about Jaz that made everyone lose their minds.
“You seem awfully enamored with her,” I muttered, “for a chauffeur.”
Jacob looked like he wanted to kill me. “I’m not a fucking chauffeur, kid. I used to be a fucking cop, until two little shits—not unlike yourself—decided to fuck me over. I’m done letting little brats like you do whatever you want with no regards to the consequences.”
A cop? I took a step back, staring at him differently. The way he carried himself, I could see it. And then I remembered why his face was so familiar to me—this guy had been one of the cops that handled Celeste Chamber’s case three years ago, which means Oliver and him had a history, since Oliver was Celeste’s stepfather.
Of course, it looked like no one else was in the house right now other than Jaz and her mom, but it wasn’t why I was here. I didn’t care what happened years ago. This was about what was happening now.
Time passed slowly, an eternity going by before Oliver Fitzpatrick arrived. The man wore a dark grey suit, his greying black hair slicked to the side. He brought a briefcase with him, though he set it down on a chair the moment he saw me.
He was all smiles when he offered his hand to me. “Archer Vega. I don’t believe you and I have officially met yet.” Amicable to a point, professional until the end.
I didn’t shake his hand. He might want to play nice, but I didn’t. That wasn’t what this was about. This was…at this point, I wasn’t sure what it was about. Clearing my name? Forcing Oliver to realize that Jaz was the bad guy here? The more I thought about it, the more insane it sounded.
He’d never believe me over her. Never.
“We haven’t,” I said.
“I’ve been told you want to speak with me,” Oliver said, giving a short nod to Jacob, “would you like to head upstairs to my office?”
“No, here is fine.”
“Very well,” Oliver spoke, moving to sit on the chair he’d set his briefcase on. He moved it to the floor before leaning back and interlocking his fingers together. “Take a seat and let’s chat. I do have a few questions for you, since you’re here—and I’m choosing to assume you have some for me as well. Let’s get everything out in the open, shall we?”
Jacob took his leave, but since I didn’t hear his footsteps on the stairs, I knew he just moved to another part of the house and not upstairs. I’d bet any amount of money—money which I didn’t really have to bet—that he was going to try to eavesdrop in on this entire conversation.
