Page 36 of Reckoning

“Enough.” Hastings says before Roman can speak. “We need to have a conversation and Roman needs to be here.”

I narrow my eyes, putting the coffee down, just in case. “Why?”

“Roman is a part of this, you both are.”

“A part of what?” Roman asks.

“Whatever is going on with Sofia.”

“I didn’t do anything.” I state.

Hastings holds his hands up. “I know. You misinterpreted what I was saying. What I meant was, I believe you, I believe someone is playing games, but what I don’t understand is why.”

I stare at him. My mind repeating that line over and over. He believes me. He doesn’t think I’m an addict. I look across at Roman and he meets my gaze with no show of emotion.

“They want me to look like an addict.” I state. “They want the world to believe it. That my trauma is so much I decided it was easier to just give up.” My last words come out like venom, I aim them right at my brother and he winces enough to tell me they hit home.

“I’m sorry.” He says, like that makes up for it.

I don’t reply. I don’t say a word. I never once second guessed him, never once doubted him. I gave everything I had, I sacrificed everything for him and this is how he responds?

“I’m putting some people onto it. It’s hush hush obviously.” Hastings says.

“You think you can figure it out?” Roman asks.

Hastings looks from my brother then to me. “Is there anything you want to tell me, anything you’re keeping to yourself that might explain this.”

“Like what?” I ask.

He shrugs. “You burnt his house down, a lot of secrets went up in smoke.”

“You think I’m hiding something? That I’m, what, protecting them?” I snarl.

“Not protecting them.” He says in that same calm, reasonable manner. “But a lot of the evidence was destroyed. Tell me you don’t have something squirrelled away that you’re planning on using for revenge.”

“I don’t.” I huff. God, if I actually had something does he really think I wouldn’t have used it already? Do I really look like I’m that patient?

He sighs with frustration.

“You think they’re after something in particular?” Roman guesses.

“What else could it be?” Hastings says. “We haven’t prosecuted any of them, your sister can’t even give us any names beyond her late-husband, right now, they’re all sitting pretty so why would they rock the boat?”

“They want Verona to think I’m a mess.” I state. “They want to discredit me, to undermine me.”

“That’s what I believe.” Hastings replies.

I let out a huff. It’s not a bad plan. In fact, it’s a pretty smart one, after all, how believable can I be when Verona thinks I spend my life either drunk, or high, or both?

“So what do we do?” I ask. There’s still the matter of a wrecked Ferrari and my apparent DUI.

“Leave it with me. If they’re out there…”

“I meant about me.” I cut across him. “I meant the car, the supposed drink driving.”

He scowls. “That is where things get tricky.”

“In what way?” Roman asks before I can.

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