Unbroken Page 17

  “What do you mean?”

  Jon still focused on the horizon. The clouds shifting by so rapidly cast his face into shadow and light, but Kiera thought he looked more frightened than anything else. His shoulders were so hunched he seemed to be cowering.

  “You—” he said, but then he stopped himself and looked at her with an intensity that Kiera found unsettling.

  “What?” she said. “Talk to me. We’re old friends. You can tell me anything.”

  “You didn’t get out of the hospital until today—this morning, right?”

  Not sure where he was going with this, Kiera nodded. Jon didn’t speak for a long time, but she could tell something was weighing on his mind.

  “Tell me. What is it?”

  He took a deep, shuddering breath and, pursing his lips, shook his head like he was desperate to say what was on his mind but also unwilling or unable to.

  “Last night . . . I got back from the funeral home really late, and I . . .”

  He snickered softly and shook his head, but Kiera didn’t see a bit of humor in the way he was acting. The truth was, she was a little afraid of him. Maybe she had been wrong about how strong he was. Maybe Liz’s death had hit him a lot harder than she realized. When he looked at her again, a gleam lit up his eyes, a crazy light that actually unnerved her. Her first thought was that his mind might have snapped because of his wife’s murder.

  “No . . . It’s nothing,” he finally said with a quick, firm shake of his head. “I just . . . I saw a car outside my house last night, and I . . . I could have sworn it was you.”

  “What?” Kiera was stunned and didn’t know what to say. She shook her head slowly from side to side, and all she could think of was the face—her face!—in the hearse window and in the swirling wood grain of the coffin.

  “No . . . It couldn’t have been me,” she said, struggling to maintain control of her voice. “I was in the hospital.”

  “I know . . . It’s just been so . . . so—” He sighed and covered his face with his hands. “I mean—shit! You’ve had your own mountain of shit to deal with.” He lowered his hands and, for a moment, seemed to regain control. Putting one hand on her shoulder, he gave her a reassuring squeeze. “I can’t believe how incredibly strong you are.”

  “What are you talking about?” Kiera said. She knew he wasn’t leveling with her now. Something was bothering him. She gritted her teeth, even though it sent a bolt of pain through her head sharp enough to make her eyes sting, and told herself not to cry. It was just the rapid changes of sunlight and shadow that were affecting her vision.

  “I . . . I just don’t see how anyone can deal with something like this,” Jon said.

  She searched his face for some sign that—at least with her—he felt secure enough to let his guard down. But he looked at her with a cold, impassive stare, as if he somehow was above it all. After an uncomfortably long silence, he took another breath, held it, and let it out.

  “You want to know the truth?” he finally said, taking his hand from her shoulder and grabbing the porch railing. He squeezed it so tightly his knuckles went white. “Just between you and me . . . ? As old friends . . . ?”

  Kiera bit down on her lower lip to keep from saying anything she might regret. Was this really what she wanted? Because back in a corner of her mind, a tiny voice was screaming at her that Jon was about to tell her something she definitely did not want to hear. A cold gnawing twisted in her stomach, but she nodded slowly and said, “Jon, you know you can tell me anything.”

  He shot her a tight smile, then sniffed with laughter and shook his head while staring deeply into her eyes. His face shifted in and out of sunlight and shadow as the clouds passed by overhead, and Kiera had the unnerving sensation that she was seeing two versions of Jon. There was the one face everyone saw in the sunshine—happy and confident, strong and secure. And then there was the other face—the dark side he kept to himself and fought to hide from everyone—even her.

  “Liz and I weren’t going to make it,” he finally said, his voice low and strained.

  Kiera pulled away from him. She didn’t like hearing him put it so bluntly, but he continued talking before she could say anything.

  “You’ve known it all along. You’ve sensed it. And as mean as this sounds—I know you guys were friends—but this—” He tossed his head back and clenched his hands into fists as though he couldn’t find the words to express himself. “What happened, happened for a reason, and I—”

  He cut himself off abruptly and shivered. It didn’t matter if his face was in sunlight or shadow, it looked pale and drawn, the skin almost translucent as it appeared to collapse in on itself.

  Kiera’s body was tingling with tension because she suddenly knew exactly what he was going to say next, and there was no way she wanted to hear it. Not now. Not here. The thought was already so clear in her mind he might already have said it out loud, and she was just remembering it. No matter how much she didn’t want him to say it, at least not now, right after his wife’s funeral, it was as unavoidable as a train wreck.

  Jon’s hand went to her shoulder again, but this time his touch was a gentle caress. She wanted to pull away from him, but the rapid alterations of sunlight and shadow on the field made her feel dizzy. She didn’t dare close her eyes, not when there was the danger of seeing that face—her face!—staring back at her from inside the hearse.

  “We can’t . . .” she muttered. “I don’t want you . . . or either of us to say something we might regret.”

  Jon shifted closer to her, his blue eyes glistening like wet marbles. His lower lip was trembling, and the corners of his mouth twitched.

  “I mean it,” she said, but his arms slid down her back and hugged her. Before she could stop him, he pulled her close until her face pressed against his chest. She inhaled, smelling his aftershave and body sweat. She listened to his heart, thumping in his chest—or maybe it was her own, skipping fast with fear.

  Is it fear? she asked herself as she slowly put her arms around his waist and pulled him to her. Her legs buckled, and she sagged in his arms, letting him support her. After a dizzying moment, when she eased away from him, they looked deeply into each other’s eyes. Neither one of them said a word because they both knew that words were unnecessary. Then, in unison, they let go of each other. Kiera felt her strength return and was grateful she didn’t fall down.

  “I want to see you . . . after all this is all over—” With a flick of his head, he indicated the house filled with people.

  Confused by the conflicting emotions raging inside her, Kiera didn’t know whether she should laugh or cry or run screaming from the house and vow never to see Jon again. She was trembling as she took a breath—the first, it seemed, in the last five minutes or more.

  “Not now,” she said, surprised by the strength of her voice.

  Feeling as if everyone in the house knew what was going on and was staring at them, Kiera backed away from Jon and nervously smoothed her clothes. Still feeling painfully self-conscious, she ran her fingers lightly over the bandage on her head.

  “Are you okay with this?” Jon asked, his eyebrows rising with what looked like genuine concern.

  “With what?” Kiera asked, so confused and frightened by what had just happened she had no idea how to respond. After a moment, she looked at Jon and nodded.

  “I’m just really exhausted,” she said. “I’d better go home.”

  “Can I call you later?”

  Kiera caught the desperation in his voice and smiled to think how much he sounded like a teenager tortured by infatuation. And she wanted to believe that’s all it was. Neither of them was thinking this through. This was how they had behaved in high school, when they were sweethearts. She couldn’t let any foolish infatuation or whatever this was proceed. But even as she told herself this, she nodded and said, “Yes . . . We’ll talk.”

  With that, she walked back into the house, feeling unsteady and disoriented. She found Nate still cha
tting with his poker buddies, but when they made eye contact, she couldn’t help but feel a rush of guilt.

  Did he see us? . . . Does he know what just happened out there?

  She felt as though her guilt must be written all over her face. And even if Nate hadn’t seen them, even if he didn’t suspect a thing, someone must have noticed what was going on. It had to be obvious. And it wouldn’t be long before more gossip was flying. She told herself if Nate or anyone else ever mentioned it, she would play it off like she was just consoling Jon, who was, after all, one of her oldest and closest friends.

  But she didn’t like the way she was feeling. Deep inside, a voice was telling her that life was all about choices—the ones you make and the ones you don’t make—and every now and then, something big happens—like the death of a spouse or divorce—and you can make a choice, take a new direction. Maybe when you make that choice, you change on so basic a level you become someone else. And maybe—eventually—you turn into the person you were supposed to be all along if it hadn’t been for something that happened long ago that took you off your path.

  “You sure you’re feeling okay?” Nate asked as they started for the door.

  Kiera was so drained her body was shaking, but she hid it as best she could and said, “Sure. It’s just been a tough day. I want to get home. I haven’t even seen Trista since I got out of the hospital.”

  Nate didn’t say anything, and he was so silent throughout the drive home that Kiera was sure he had seen what had happened out on the deck between her and Jon. He must at least suspect something was wrong.

  As confused as she was, she was convinced what had happened wasn’t wrong.

  It might be the most “right” thing that ever happened to her.

  CHAPTER 8

  River’s Edge

  1

  “You’re sure that’s all it was?” Nate asked.

  He had both hands on the steering wheel and didn’t take his eyes off the road to look at her. The muscles in his jaw worked back and forth as he ground his teeth the way he did whenever he was really agitated.

  Kiera’s chest ached with sadness because she knew there was no way she could tell him about what had happened with Jon. It was hard enough sorting out her own feelings, but the truth was, what Jon had said, the feelings and thoughts he had stirred up had hit her hard. And the truth was, it wasn’t really unexpected. She was frightened and confused because at least some part of her felt the same way about him.

  But how much?

  Why would she even consider jeopardizing her marriage by following through with this?

  “Jesus, Nate. Think about it for just one second, will you?” Her confusion fueled her anger, and she couldn’t hold back. “He just lost his wife. And she didn’t just die. She was killed. Murdered! And so far, the police don’t have a damned clue who did it. He’s freaking out, and I think you should cut him some slack!”

  Nate shook his head and said softly, “Hell, he probably did it.”

  The casualness with which he said it only fired Kiera’s anger all the more.

  “Don’t you say that! Don’t you even think it!” she shouted so loud Nate glanced at her with genuine worry in his eyes.

  “I didn’t mean it.” He reached out and placed his hand on top of hers. “It’s just . . . You know, on cop shows, whenever someone’s wife dies, the husband’s always the prime suspect.”

  “Jon would never kill anyone!” Kiera said, but as soon as the words were out of her mouth, a prickling rush of panic went through her. She turned and looked out the side window at the passing scenery because she knew—all too well—that Jon not only could kill someone. He had killed someone.

  The blood drained from her face, and a chill radiated a dull ache all through her body as the memory came rushing back.

  It was an accident, she told herself even though, after all these years, she only half believed it. He didn’t mean to kill Billy . . . not on purpose.

  Even as she thought it, another voice in the back of her mind—a voice that had been there ever since that night said, You know he meant to kill him . . . You were there.

  Uttering a soft moan, she leaned her bandaged forehead against the passenger’s window and stared into the distance as the memory came rushing back.

  2

  Ever since junior high, Kiera had been attracted to Jon, but they didn’t start dating until the beginning of their senior year. The first few times Jon asked her out, she hadn’t taken him seriously. It was too much to hope for. Besides, she and Billy Carroll had been going steady for over a year, and she didn’t want to hurt Billy’s feelings.

  Still, she was flattered someone as cute and smart and popular as Jon would even notice her. After a few weeks of Jon calling her and them sneaking off together “to talk,” as hard as it had been, she had broken up with Billy. One Saturday night in late October, they had driven out River Road to a deserted picnic area beside the Hancock River where they could be alone.

  Somehow, Billy found out where they were going, and he followed them. That night, Kiera and Jon were the only couple out there. They had parked and, for over an hour, had been talking and making out when Billy suddenly appeared. He must have walked more than four miles from town, and he was furious when he saw what was going on. He started banging on the car’s windows, accusing Jon of stealing his girlfriend. Billy dared Jon to get out of the car and fight “like a man.”

  As surprised and angry as he was, Jon maintained his cool. Kiera thought it was because he was confident she wanted to be with him, not Billy. No matter how much Billy ranted and pounded on the car and challenged Jon to get out of the car and face him, Jon locked the doors and sat there, stubbornly refusing to move. As frightened as she was, Kiera was glad Jon didn’t act like a macho shit head and get out of the car to fight. She couldn’t stand idiotic behavior like that. Besides, Billy was much stronger than Jon. She wished he would just accept that their relationship was over. No amount of shouting and posturing would make her love him again.

  She told Billy to go away, to give up and leave them alone. She told him she didn’t love him anymore, but that only fueled Billy’s anger all the more. Finally, after yanking on the car door to no effect, he went down the slope to the river and returned in a few seconds with a huge rock. Kiera knew he was crazy enough to throw the rock through their windshield, but before she could say or do anything, Jon started up the car and floored it.

  “Leave us the fuck alone!” he shouted as the car’s engine roared, spewing exhaust. In the harsh glare of the headlight, Kiera watched as Billy walked toward the car, the rock raised high above his head. Crouching low, he prepared to throw it at the car.

  Just then, Jon slammed the car into gear and took his foot off the brake. The tires spun in the dirt, kicking up a cloud of dust as dense as fog in the red taillights. Instead of moving backward as Kiera had expected, the car suddenly jolted forward. A loud impact rocked the car, and Kiera saw Billy go flying backward. The rock he’d been holding above his head dropped.

  After that, everything seemed to happen in excruciatingly slow motion.

  Billy fell backward as the rock slipped from his grip and peeled a swatch of skin off his face. For an instant that seemed somehow to last forever, pink flesh and exposed bone glistened wetly in the harsh glow of the headlights. Blood started to flow, and Billy’s eyes bulged from their sockets with a look of numbed amazement. His arms reached behind him and flapped uselessly as he struggled to keep his balance, and then he dropped out of sight below the front of the car. He disappeared so quickly it was almost like he had never been there.

  Stunned for a moment, Kiera wanted to believe none of this had just happened. It had all been an illusion, a trick of the eye or something, but a part of her numbed brain was screaming at her that this was all too real.

  Jon jammed the gearshift into neutral and jerked the emergency brake up so fast the car heaved to the side and stopped with a lurching jolt that threw Kiera forward. Her h
ead slammed against the dashboard so hard a spray of stars exploded across her vision. She never knew if she lost consciousness or not, but ever since that night, whenever she thought about what happened, it felt as though she had lost an indeterminate span of time.

  Something else happened that unnerved her even more.

  The instant her head hit the dashboard, she felt as though—somehow—her consciousness was separated from her body. The memory was hazy and confusing, and over the years whenever she thought about it, she was convinced she must have imagined it or else modified it until it became something it couldn’t have been; but she had the odd feeling of being in two places at once. As she slumped over in the car seat, her head spinning and throbbing with pain, she felt as though she also was outside the car, standing beneath the trees and watching everything that was happening.

  She viewed this memory with a cold, almost clinical detachment because it was like watching a movie of something that had happened to someone else a long time ago. The sense of unreality was dizzying, even when she tried to convince herself that none of it could ever have happened.

  Certainly not to me, she thought, but the details of what happened next, of what she and Jon had done were too real to pretend it had never happened.

  Jon’s face was as pale as a mask of white porcelain. His eyes were wide and staring as he looked at her. He seemed not to notice the blood that was gushing down her face.

  “What did I do?” he asked in a thin, frightened voice.

  Kiera looked at him and nodded. Jon killed the engine and snapped off the headlights, plunging their surroundings into impenetrable darkness. Kiera remembered hearing someone sobbing, unaware it was her. The only other sound was the rapid clicking of the car’s engine as it cooled. The metallic taste of blood seeped into the corners of her mouth. Her skin was sticky and cool when she wiped her face, and her hand came away slick with blood.

  “We have to see if he’s—” she said, but then stopped herself.