Page 95 of Trusting Skulls

My mouth falls open as we pull in for my interview with the police. First Rachel and now this …

Ash is standing tall by the door of the police station, and the rest of the club is parked across the street.

“What in the hell is he doing here? I told that kid to stay away from you. We’re going to have to get a restraining order against him,” my dad growls.

The absurdity of his words makes me bark out a harsh laugh. “You’re kidding, right? You do know he saved my life.”

“Lexie, that’s not the type of boy you want to get involved with,” my mother snips.

“Oh, I suppose it would be better to be involved with someone like dad’s boss. He is such an upstanding citizen, isn’t he?”

I get out of the car, struggling with my crutches and slam the door. When Ash starts to approach me, I stop and hold my hand up. “I can’t. Not right now.”

He immediately backs away, dipping his head in acceptance. “I just wanted you to know I’m here.”

I continue but pause beside him. My eyes remain forward. I’m not ready to face him quite yet, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings. “Thank you,” I whisper.

The interview itself is nothing more than a form of torture. I don’t hold anything back. I just tell the truth. That’s exactly what Ash told me to do. “The truth will set you free” he had said while we were perched on that mountainside.

My parents were with me for a while, but an officer eventually made them step outside. They began to argue with me over my description of my home life. That I spent days, weeks, and months alone. That Graham started to come by to “swim.”

On the way out, I don’t look at anyone. I feel like trash. I’m utterly disgusted with myself.

The drive home is quiet. The rest of the evening is quiet. When my parents call me for supper … you guessed right … it’s quiet.

They’re already pulling away. Whether it’s because of what I revealed today, or because they’re simply slipping back into old habits, it doesn’t matter. Things can never go back to the way it was when I was a little girl. When they were two young college kids trying to make ends meet.

“Do you guys want to talk about what I said today?” I ask them.

Neither of them look up from the laptop they’re sharing. They’re looking at homes for sale in Reno.

“I’ll take the non-answer as an answer.” I push away from the table. Still nothing. But my dad eventually notices that I’m hobbling away.

“Goodnight, Lexie.”

My mom mumbles a reluctant goodnight, mirroring his.

I pause and look back at them, but they’ve already looked away. “Goodnight,” I whisper.

The next morning, I sleep in well past breakfast. The only way I know it’s noon is because of the man who mows our lawn. He mows every Friday at exactly the same time.

Rachel knocks on my door. “Lexie?”

“Yeah.” I roll to a sitting position, somewhat embarrassed that she found me in bed so late.

“Hey, I thought we agreed we were going to get you outside today,” she says, already going through my closet.

I scoot to the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep very good last night.”

It’s a complete lie. I took double of my prescription and slept like a baby. Her gaze roams over me and then my nightstand.

“Get dressed. I’ll meet you outside. I’m going to go talk to your parents for a minute.”

I pull the trash can liner out of the can and stash my bottle of pills in the bottom, hiding them. I’m not taking any chances of losing the only thing that’s keeping me alive right now.

She’s already sitting by the pool when I get outside.

“I don’t know what we’re doing out here. This is stupid. I can’t do anything with this thing on.” I pick up a crutch and use it to point at my bad leg.

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