In the Blood (Entangled Teen) Page 14

  “Yeah. You were right. I have to face it.”

  It feels good saying it.

  “I’m glad,” she replies, taking hold of my hand.

  “I’ve just seen Foster. I think he’s got something to do with the Tom situation. He’s as good as admitted it. I’m gonna see him after science and get it out of him.” My whole body tenses just thinking about it.

  I pull out the stool next to her and sit down, willing myself to relax.

  “Is that a good idea, after what happened yesterday?” Summer asks.

  “Well, it’s either him or I speak to the kid himself.”

  Why didn’t I think of that before? The police said to keep away from him, but that was before this happened.

  “You’re not allowed.”

  “The circumstances are different now. And I’ve got to see him before Foster tries to stop me, or warns the kid.”

  I wouldn’t put it past Foster to take Tom away or make it impossible for me to speak to him. Anything to protect himself.

  “I’ll do it instead of you. After class.”

  I have no choice but to agree.

  The rest of the lesson drags, and finally we get out of there and race to where the sixth grade lockers are. Luck’s on our side because we see Tom standing on his own.

  “Tom,” I call.

  He turns, and the color drains from his face when he sees me.

  “It’s okay,” Summer says, walking toward him. “I want to talk to you. Jed will stay where he is, won’t you?” She looks at me and nods.

  “Yeah. Speak to Summer,” I call.

  My fists clench and unclench by my sides. All I want to do is give the kid a good shake and find out what the fuck was going on in his head to make him incriminate me. But, of course, I can’t. Instead, I have to watch them talk, and it’s driving me crazy. The tension builds in my body. I’m desperate to know what they’re saying, but their voices are so quiet I can’t. At one time, Tom wipes his eyes with his sleeve. So Summer must be making some impact.

  Finally, after what seems like ages but is probably only five minutes, Summer beckons me to come over.

  “Tom’s told me what happened,” she says when I get to them.

  “That you made everything up?”

  Tom lowers his head and looks at the floor. “Yes,” he says so quietly I can hardly hear him.

  “Why?” I growl.

  Summer rests her hand on my arm. “He’s sorry, Jed. It wasn’t his fault. Foster blackmailed him into doing it. He’s really sorry. He didn’t expect the police to get involved, and then he was too scared to tell the truth.”

  “And that’s supposed to make it all okay, is it?”

  Tom raises his eyes and looks at me. He’s shaking, poor kid. My heart softens. He’s gonna hate himself enough after doing this. There’s no point in me adding to it.

  “Okay,” I say gently. “We all need to see the principal.”

  Chapter Forty-three

  “Do you think Foster will be expelled?” Summer asks as we’re driving home.

  It turns out, he saw Tom accidentally break a finger off the stone statue that was donated to the school years ago by some rich dude and threatened to report him. Foster told Tom he’d be suspended and never get into a good college with such a bad record and that he’d be letting everyone down. He said that, if Tom went to the principal and said I’d touched him, then he would forget about what he saw.

  At the time, Tom believed he had no choice. I can certainly relate to that feeling. Foster’s such an asswipe and can be really intimidating. No wonder Tom agreed to do it.

  Anyway, it’s over. Tom’s admitted what happened, and Foster’s in deep shit.

  Karma.

  “He deserves to be. If it had worked out the way he’d planned, I’d be heading for juvie.”

  “Poor Tom. I hope he won’t get into too much trouble.”

  “Well, I won’t be pressing charges, because the kid’s not really to blame, so it’s just up to the school and his parents. The way the principal was talking, I don’t think they’ll be too hard on him. I just hope he learns his lesson about lying. Especially about something like this.”

  “What about Foster?” Summer asks. “You could press charges against him.”

  “I guess. But then I might have to do the same for Tom. I’ll leave it to the school to decide. I’m sure they’ve got a stack of stuff against him. This could be the nail in his coffin. Besides, one law suit is all I can handle right now,” I added, thinking of my dad. I glance to the side, and my heartbeat quickens as our eyes make contact. “You up for a run?” I ask, pulling into our drive.

  “Give me an hour; Mom wants help moving some furniture before the decorator arrives in the morning.”

  “Sure. Come over when you’re ready.”

  I watch Summer cross our yard and go into her house, then I walk through the garage and toward the kitchen. Reaching the door, I come to a halt as the most incredible smell hits me. I’d swear it was baking. But Mom hasn’t baked since before Dad’s arrest.

  I push open the door and hurry into the kitchen.

  My jaw drops, and my eyes widen.

  By the bench is Mom…with Amy standing on a chair next to her.

  “Hello,” is all I can manage to say.

  “Jed, Jed,” Amy says excitedly. “We’ve made chocolate muffins.”

  I shake my head to try and clear it. “I can see that,” I reply, laughing. “The evidence is smeared all over your face.”

  Mom looks at me, her cheeks flushed. “Amy, why don’t you go to the bathroom and wash your face while I clear away. When you come back, I’ll let you have one. They should have cooled down enough by then.”

  We both stand in silence while Amy scampers out of the kitchen.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  “The school phoned me. Why didn’t you tell me what had happened?”

  “I didn’t want to upset you. You’ve had enough to deal with.”

  “But I’m your…” She pauses and looks sheepish. “Mom,” she says quietly.

  Part of me wants to hug her and tell her it’s all okay, but she’s been detached from us for so long that it’s hard. My head understands why she zoned out on us. But my heart? I’m just not sure.

  “Don’t worry; it’s all over now.” I know that sounds trite, but it’s all I have at the moment.

  “I’m sorry,” Mom says. “I’ve been such a bad mom to you and Amy. I should’ve done something about it after Dawson disappeared and you not coming home all night. Then finding out earlier that you’d been accused of doing that awful stuff, plus there was the worry about the house and what we were all going to do. Well, it made me finally realize how much I’ve been letting you both down. I was only thinking of what this whole arrest and investigation and trial was doing to me. I guess I convinced myself that you were both young enough that it wouldn’t affect you. But I was his wife.” Her voice broke on the word. “How could I not have known, or even suspected, what kind of man your father was?”

  I watch her, understanding a bit of what she must have felt like when dad was arrested. “None of us knew, Mom. No one did”

  She runs her hands over her eyes. “When I heard you’d been accused of… Well, I realized that I couldn’t just think of myself anymore. That I wasn’t the only victim here.” Facing me, she adds, “I’m so sorry, Jed.”

  Unsure of what to say, I shrug. “What about the house?” I ask, frowning.

  “I’m thinking of selling it.”

  Selling the house? Why would she want to do that? She’s got rid of all Dad’s stuff—you wouldn’t even know he existed if you didn’t know about him. And I know the neighbors have been difficult, but what makes her think it’s gonna be any different somewhere else? Because it’s not like they won’t find out about us. Not unless we have brand new identities, and that’s not gonna happen.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not at the moment.”

  “We
need the money,” she says, shaking her head.

  Which makes no sense at all. We’ve never had money problems.

  “No, we don’t.”

  “There’s every chance your father will be sued by the victims’ families. Everything we have is in joint names, so I think that means they could take everything. It’s not that I don’t want them to have some money, but we also have to live. If we sell the house, he can have his share plus all the money left to him by his family. I can buy something smaller and get a job.”

  I let out a long sigh. I hadn’t even thought about that. She’s right, though. I wonder how long she’s been thinking about it. It was just one more thing for her to be distracted by. No wonder she was so distant from us for so long. Not that I’m excusing her. But it does make it a little more understandable.

  “If that’s the best solution. And we’ll manage, Mom. I’ll get a job to help out.”

  A hurt expression crosses her face, and it pulls at my insides. “I don’t deserve you. You faced it like an adult, but I couldn’t. I just tried to blot everything out. When I think of what he did to those poor…,” she stifles a sob, “to those poor young boys.”

  “I know. There are no words.”

  “People are convinced I must have had some idea. But I didn’t. He totally conned me. I’ve spent the last nine months going over and over our life together, looking for even the tiniest of clues. And maybe there were some, like the way he sometimes shut himself away in his office and got real mad if he was disturbed. Or that the charities he helped at usually involved children.”

  She shakes her head and looks so sad, it tears at my insides. What I’d give to turn back the clock and make everything right.

  “He fooled all of us. And I’ve spent a long time worrying that I’m gonna end up like him.”

  “What?” She stares at me, open mouthed. “How could you imagine that?”

  “Because we’re so alike in so many ways. Like Dad and Granddad. And Granddad abused Dad when he was a boy.” The color drains from Mom’s face. “But you know that, because he told me when we went to visit him”

  “I don’t remember him saying that. I wasn’t listening.” She shakes her head. “I’m so sorry. Oh my God,” she says lifting her hand to her mouth. “Your dad didn’t touch you, did he? If he did, I’ll kill him, I…”

  “No, Mom. No. He never touched me. He told me he wanted to, but he managed to fight it. But there could be something in our psychological make-up which is similar. Two generations have been abusers, so it’s not out of the question that I’ll end up one, too. Not that I’ve had any feelings like that,” I quickly add.

  “You can’t think that,” she says, horror etched across her face. “You’re nothing like your father, or his father. Nothing at all.”

  “You used to say all the time we were like peas in a pod. What’s changed?”

  “When I said that, I was thinking more of how you all look and also that you were all so tidy it drove me to distraction. You’re nothing like either of them in other ways. In the ways that count. For a start, you’re not selfish like both of them. Yes, I know your dad would make grand gestures and do charity work. But it’s the mundane, every day things where you’re so different, like offering to make me a drink, or helping put away the shopping. Little things, but they matter. So, I repeat, you’re nothing like him.”

  “I hope you’re right. I’m trying not to let it get to me, but it’s not easy. Summer thinks it’s all down to choice. That I have control over what happens, and I do believe her. But, sometimes, I still worry about it.” My voice sort of fades away.

  “Summer’s right—you do have a choice. Those worries might never go, but you have to try and accept it and get on with your life.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  “I’m sorry. Who am I to talk after the way it’s affected me? You know, it’s like there’s a huge part of him and his life I didn’t know anything about. And what I did know was a complete and utter lie. To the outside world, he was the perfect husband. The perfect father. The perfect liar. Our life was a total fabrication.”

  I want to reach out and erase all her memories of my dad. So she can get on with her life and not be forever thinking about him. But I know that’s not possible. Summer’s taught me that you can’t ignore things. You have to deal with them. And that applies to Mom as well as me.

  “Yeah, people did think he was perfect, didn’t they? Other kids used to say what a cool guy he was. Shit, Mom, how could he have done it to us?”

  When I think about how much he conned us, it makes me feel like a total fool. He duped everyone. Or did he? Maybe he was two different people. Husband and father, and despicable pedophile, and he never allowed the two personalities to overlap.

  “We’ll never know,” she says, sighing.

  Not unless we visit him again. Maybe I should ask the police if they want me to go back and get the evidence they need. Perhaps I’ll ask Mom. Not now, though. Later.

  She leans forward and covers my hand with hers. “I love you so much, Jed. You’re my special boy. You always have been and always will be. I promise to never let you down again.” Her eyes glisten with tears.

  “Summer thinks I should go for therapy,” I blurt out.

  I don’t know what made me mention it to her. It’s not like she’s gonna think it’s a good idea. Actually, that’s probably why I told her.

  “Maybe we should go as a family. It might help,” Mom replies, nodding.

  “Are you serious? I thought you hated therapists.”

  I never thought I’d see the day when Mom advocated going to a therapist. She must be the most anti-therapy person in the whole world. She always felt that problems should be sorted out at home. With the family. Which is exactly what didn’t happen to us. So, thinking about it, maybe it isn’t such a surprise.

  “That was before all this happened.” She colors slightly. I guess she’s embarrassed.

  “What about Amy?”

  I don’t know why I asked about Amy, because I don’t think it’s a good idea to take her to therapy. We’ve managed to shelter her so far, and if she went, then she’d have to know everything that’s happened. We should wait until she’s older.

  “No. She’s too young. It will be just the two of us. I’ll look into it and find someone we can go to.”

  Well, if Mom wants to go, then I will go, too. I guess it can’t do any harm. Although it’s not going to change what people think about me. Then again, what’s the point in worrying about what other people think? I have more important things to do with my life.

  Most importantly, I need to plan for the future. Because, for the first time in ages, I couldn’t be more sure that I do want a future. I’m gonna take it one step at a time. I’ll prove to everyone that my father doesn’t define who I am. I’m not his doppelganger. I’m my own person. And, yes, we are similar in lots of ways, but not in the ways that count. And I’ll show Summer that I am in control of my life and that I’m worth sticking with.

  Chapter Forty-four

  Pulling open the closet, I notice the can of beer at the bottom. I lean over and pick it up, turning it in my hand. How easy would it be to pull back the ring and open it? It’s tempting. Anything to help me face today. To stop me from freaking out. One won’t hurt.

  I step back and drop down onto my bed, all the time my eyes fixed on the can. I position my finger over the ring-pull and am just about to pull on it when I remember the promise I made to myself about drinking. Social drinking, fine. Drinking to try and numb my feelings, not fine. So, instead, I take some deep breaths. Today’s gonna be hard, but that’s okay. I’m ready for it. Ready to face Dad again. And I don’t need a drink to deal with it. I don’t need a drink to deal with anything anymore.

  The police will be here in a few minutes to take us. Mom’s coming with. Not to speak to Dad. She’ll never do that, and I don’t blame her. She’s just coming for support, and Amy’s staying with Summer.
<
br />   “Jed,” I hear Mom calling. “Detective Spalding’s here.”

  “Down in a minute.”

  I take one last look in the mirror, no longer seeing Dad in my reflection but me as a person in my own right, then I leave my room and head downstairs.

  I sit in the back of the police car with Mom, and as we drive down the street, she takes hold of my hand.

  “Are you sure about this?” she asks softly. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”

  When I think back to the last time, when I nearly changed my mind a dozen times, this feels so different. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not looking forward to it. Fuck no. But it’s not screwing with my head so much. It could just be that, because I’ve been to the prison before, that’s not gonna be such a shock. Or maybe it’s that I’m in a very different head space now. Living in the present and not letting myself get sucked into second-guessing what the future has in store. Whatever, I won’t be backing out. And I won’t be leaving until Dad’s told me everything.

  “I’m sure. I can’t take back what he’s done, but I can help other families with missing children. Give them closure. I have to do this for them.”

  “I’m so proud of you,” she says, squeezing my hand.

  We sit in silence for the rest of the journey, and as we pull into the parking lot, I draw in some calming breaths. I tell myself that, whatever he says, however he looks, this time, I’m not going to lose it.

  I follow Detective Spalding to the same room I saw Dad in the last time, leaving Mom in the waiting area. She wanted to come and wait outside the room, but I said no. She doesn’t need to hear everything. It would upset her too much.

  “Same as before, Jed,” Spalding says. “We need as much information as you can get. And if it’s too much, just holler. I’ll be right here.” He smiles and nods encouragingly.

  “Okay. Let’s get it over with,” I say trying to sound confident.

  My heart is thumping crazily in my chest, and beads of sweat form on my forehead, which I quickly wipe away with the back of my hand. I don’t want Dad to see me looking anything other than calm and in control. I remember what Summer said the last time about how, when she goes to the dentist, she acts like it’s not her, just an objective observer. And that’s what I’m going to do.