Kyle shoots her a look of disgust. “You made me arrest an innocent woman. She spent two nights in jail, Paula, for doing nothing, for a crimeyoucommitted. Can’t you see how fucked up that is?”
“Let’s talk about this later,” Paula shoots him abe quietlook.
“This is the last time I talk to you, Paula,” Kyle says sadly. “You’re poison.”
“What?” Paula snaps.
“You threw me under the bus,” he says, not looking at her. “And for what? Some high school obsession your friend has with your brother?”
Lo releases a long sigh. Her tone is gentle when she says, “Kyle, you can leave.”
“Thanks, Sheriff.”
Without a backward glance at the woman, who has been his girlfriend since they were both fifteen years old, he walks away, slamming the door behind him.
“Now, Paula and Melody.” Lo turns her attention to them.
“Lo, she was never one of us,“ Melody chimes. Her parents know Lo and her husband well. They’re part of the same friend circle. I think they play monthly poker games together.
“Really?” Lo leans back in her chair, as if getting comfortable.
“And she did steal from her ex, didn’t she?” Melody adds triumphantly.
Lo pulls out her phone and swiped her finger around. Then she holds it up for Melody and Paula to see. “That’s what her ex did to her.”
Melody makes a face while Paula looks devastated. I’m not sure if it’s because of what she’s seeing on Lo’s screen or because Kyle just dumped her.
Lo slides her phone to me.
It takes courage for me to pick it up. I look at the pictures, there are four of them.
In the first, Faith’s face is turned slightly to the side, a deep bruise is blooming across her cheekbone like a cruel artist’s stroke. In the second, her wrist is swollen, angry red where the skin split. The third shows the curve of her ribs, purple and shadowed. And in the last one, her eyes are swollen shut, her jaw is swollen.
My stomach turns. That asshole beat the crap out of her.
Oh, Faith.
I rise on shaky legs, bile is rising inside me.
I rush out, managing to get to the bathroom just in time to throw up my breakfast.
The photos of Faith brutalized float in my head, making me nauseous. Every time I think I’m fine, I begin to dry heave.
Fuck! What have I done? I should’ve taken care of Faith. I should’ve remembered who she is. She thinks the devil with a cat in Moscow is fun. She can quote Cicero.
It takes me a good fifteen minutes to get back to the conference room.
“You okay?” Lo asks.
I shake my head. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay.
“Paula,” I wait until my sister looks at me. “I’m done with you.”
“Cain, I’m your?—”
“Done,” I cut her off. “Melody, you and I arenevergoing to happen. Your father is going to hear about what you did.”
Melody rolls her eyes.
