Page 67 of Don't Regret Me
Booker’s hand slid into hers, and she let him ground her as she listened to the officer explain more about the investigation. Liz would need to take part in it, she said. Everyone that was in the house was a suspect.
Suspect.
They thought one of them might have set the fire.
When the woman finished, she wished Liz well and backed out of the room, leaving her with her two closest friends.
“Did she just tell us they suspect one of us burned down that house?” Booker was the first to voice what they were all thinking.
Liz met Jasmine’s eyes, sensing the same suspicion in her. They knew it wasn’t any of them, but someone set that fire.
“You don’t think she’d…”
“I don’t know.”
“But that’s beyond…”
“Beyond what? Trying to drug a man and make him crash a car?”
“No one will believe us.”
“Has that ever stopped us?”
Booker’s eyes bounced between them. “What are you two talking about?”
A sigh rattled from Liz’s sore lungs. And she told him. Everything. From the day she suspected the lies about Nick, the story Sherrie wove so expertly, to their investigation. The frustrations of leads going nowhere. The break when they met Franklin. And now, the tabloids smearing Liz’s name and Sherrie knowing they knew the truth.
His face hardened as he listened, and he paced the length of the small room. “You’re telling me someone might have intentionally tried to kill you?”
Liz shrugged, not wanting to believe anyone capable of such a thing. But it hadn’t only been her in that house. “She almost killed my kids.”
And that was unforgivable, irredeemable.
Booker dropped into a hard metal chair and buried his face in his hands. “I need a minute. This is… a lot.”
“Tell me about it.” Jasmine took the remaining chair. “Once we have real evidence, I’m posting it. I don’t have to wait for editors who will try to bury it if her people pay them enough. We’ll get this out there. We will end it.”
Jasmine’s phone rang, and she pulled it free. “I’ll be right back. It’s my brother. I asked him to keep tabs on Franklin while we were gone.” She walked out, shutting the door behind her.
And then, it was just Liz and Booker. They’d had such an up and down friendship over the last year, rarely spending time alone together, but he was still here.
“This trip was supposed to get us back on track.” She leaned her head against a pillow and stared at the ceiling. “That’s why I invited you. I miss you, miss my friend, and I was hoping we could go backward, but we can’t. I know that now. I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”
He was quiet for a long moment before leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Do you know why I said yes?”
She shook her head. It had been a surprise to her, but she’d wanted him so badly back in her life that she hadn’t dared question it.
“Because I wanted to believe everything.” He blew out a breath. “Liz, I have spent so long being angry with you. For lying to me.”
“I didn’t?—”
“I know. For going into a coma as the woman I loved and waking up in love with someone else. You’re the strongest person I have ever known, but I didn’t run back into the fire.”
“Book—”
“Please let me finish.” He rubbed a spot on his forehead over and over. “The look on Nick’s face when he realized you were still in there…” He paused. “He didn’t care about himself. It was like, even if you couldn’t get out, he wanted to be in that fire because you were in there. The man didn’t hesitate, Liz.” He got to his feet and started pacing again. Booker, the bigwig doctor who could never sit still. He didn’t change.
“I hesitated.” He stopped, his back to her. “I didn’t go back in.”
