Page 53 of Saving Barrette

I wink at him. “I guess you have nothing to worry about then, do you?”

If you look at his face, he knows he does. He fucking knows it and I hope it eats him alive to know. Regardless, I have my answer. I step back, my control slipping. I have to distance myself from him. If I don’t, I’ll kill him. I know it.

I throw his hat at him. I don’t need it. “You’d better put your criminal justice knowledge to use.” I turn around and walk away, but then I stop before I walk down the steps. I glance over my shoulder at him. “I never told you where I found your hat.”

His chest rises and falls, and his eyes widen, but I can see his struggle not to go after me. He knows too, if he has any chance—which he doesn’t—he can’t lay a hand on me.

And then I leave. I can barely keep the car on the road as I drive back to my dad’s house. My hands are shaking so badly I nearly drive the car in the ditch twice. I can’t breathe. I can barely catch a breath. I roll down the windows thinking I need fresh air, but that only makes it worse.

Nausea hits me about the time I pull into my dad’s driveway. I stop the car, open the door and vomit in the grass. Standing up, I run both my hands over my face. I want to call Barrette, but I also don’t want to ruin the rest of her day with Joey. I pray Remy doesn’t and she hears this from me, and not her.

A door opens and closes. I look up to see Carlin outside who notices my appearance. “Oh my God, are you okay?”

I shake my head just as my knees hit the ground.

I PACE MYdad’s house. He’s on the phone with his friend. He’s a police officer and is giving us advice. I want a plan before I say anything to Barrette.

He tells us she needs to file a police report. She’s still within the statute of limitations.

I don’t want to ruin Thanksgiving for her. I don’t. But if I don’t get to her first, this could destroy her completely. Despite my better judgment, I call Remy first. With a shaky grip on reality, I press her contact in my phone.

“Don’t tell her,” I bark when she gasps my name, and then realize Remy probably didn’t have anything to do with it. I shouldn’t be so mean to her.

“I would never,” she cries, sobbing into the phone. “Oh God, Asa. I can’t believe this. I don’t think it was just him. It couldn’t have been.”

My heart races. Anxiety hits my stomach. Do you notice the way my shoulders square up? “There had to be.” My dad motions for me, the last few hours wearing on his face. I nod. “I’m heading up to see her now. Where’s Roman?”

“He’s with our dad and Leonard, his attorney.”

I picture Roman sitting there in their den, his leg bouncing, his nerves shot. And then I have these gruesome images of him and Barrette and what my mind imagines what happened that night. Only now, all these violent situations that have played out have a face. “Whatever you do, don’t tell anyone about this,” I growl, unable to keep the venom from my voice.

“I won’t,” she adds without question. “I swear, Asa. Anything you need, just let me know.”

I hesitate to add a thank you, but I do because she didn’t do this. Her vile brother did.

I hang up and tuck my phone in my pocket. Turning to my dad, I reach for my keys, my eyes on the already set table and the dinner I can’t stomach to eat. I feel awful for Carlin. Her words are nothing but tender and assuring but her face, it screams, I wanted you to enjoy today.

I reach for a roll on the table and then some turkey. “It looks good.”

Her hand touches my shoulder and then to my back. “You’re too sweet, honey.”

Dad clears his throat. “Are you going to drive up there tonight?”

I nod, emotion bubbling, and I think I can handle this, but I have no idea if I’m full of shit. So much has been building up to this over the last year and a half. I knew at some point Barrette and I would both be at our breaking point and it seemed that we were there, and if the wind blew just right, we’d be over the edge, unable to find our way back. Would this be it?

“I can’t tell her this over the phone,” I admit, tears flooding my eyes. I just… I can’t believe it. I can’t even begin to wrap my mind around the fact that all along he’s been around her, and alone with her in her room. I start shaking again and set down the roll and turkey in my hand.

Carlin begins to rub my back.

Dad reaches for his keys. “You’re not going alone. I’ll drive you. You have a game Saturday.”

I nod. Damn it. I’d forgotten about that in the haze of everything unraveling around me. How could I tell her the worst news of her life, and then leave her again? And then I think of Cadence. I know they aren’t that great of friends anymore, but how is she going to handle it? Roman and her dated, if you can call it that. How would she feel to know her boyfriend raped her best friend? How would she feel not knowing?

Thousands of scenarios play out in my head, but I can’t make any one stick to decide what, or even how to do this. I flash back to when my mom was sick and the doctor told her, “There’s nothing more we can do. It’s just… too advanced.”

They told me, “It’s time to take her home and let her be at peace.”

The fighter in me wouldn’t accept it. I researched and pleaded with doctors. I begged them to try a different approach and natural therapies. They had to find a cure as far as I was concerned. In the end, nothing worked, and my mom finally said, “Baby, everything happened the way it was supposed to.” I had no idea what she meant until the day she died and she whispered to me, “You were my cure.”