Steel Rush (In the Shadows#5) (40 page)

“Oh, and Sebastian got your father’s proposal rescheduled to this week. He wanted to make sure that the Carver name didn’t taint the project. Don’t worry, I’ve already called your dad to let him know to get ready for it.”

“Thank you, Talia. And please thank Sebastian for me too.”

“I will. Now, if he would only be so accommodating with his wife. Can you believe he’s ignoring my suggestion that I join BLACK security? You would think after I proved that my presence at the fight was necessary, he would agree, but he’s being so stubborn.”

“I saw you come out from under the fight arena with him. Did you actually help him defuse that bomb?”

“No, but
my
nail clippers did.”

I snicker. “Clever. Well, I’m sure it’s because Sebastian wants to keep you safe. He already doesn’t like when you have to do undercover stuff for the Tribune.”

“I know, but at least he can control the cases I work if I’m working for our own company. Ugh…the infuriating man.”

“He’ll come around,” I say chuckling. “He just needs to think it’s his idea.”

“Hmmm, now there’s a thought. Anyway, why don’t you tell Calder the good news about Phillip. I think he’s at his parents’ house—Oh that’s Sebastian calling. Got to run.” She hangs up before I can ask her to have Sebastian tell his cousin.

It’s not like I’m avoiding Calder. It’s just that ever since that night at the fight we’ve both been inundated with the prosecutor’s demands pertaining to the cases. And during the trial proceedings our lawyers recommended that we not speak to each other. They didn’t want our testimony polluted in any way. Ironically, because he didn’t have to testify, Ben had no conflict issues. He asked me to go for coffee and I met him at a local cafe. While sipping lattes, I gave him his ring back. When he asked to meet again, I begged off. I want his friendship, but I know he wants more.

As for Calder, I’ve been terrified at the idea of facing him after that bomb Jake dropped about us. I agonized over what Calder must be thinking, how he might be twisting what Jake said. I wanted to tell him the truth, but it would take longer than a quick whispered answer in the lobby outside the courtroom.

The day the testimony phase of the trial was over last week, I received a bouquet of roses from Calder. The note inside made me cry with relief.

All the firsts that matter happened between us. Give me time to get myself in order.

Calder

Before I call Calder with the news about Phillip, I decide to clear all the Celeste stuff from my life. I scroll to the email I sent myself with the Deceiver text conversation between Celeste and Phillip. I’d kept it “just in case” until the trial was over. Once I delete that, I see another email I’d sent myself. It was of the picture from Celeste’s last diary entry. I’d sent it to myself intending to read it later, but the chaos that ensued afterward quickly absorbed my attention.

Settling into my seat, I skim over her moody poetic entry until I get to the last paragraph. One line jumps out at me, because even though it stays consistent in tone and mood, it addresses the reader. And Celeste never did that.

My life was colored by design. It was always your favorite.

Colored by design could be referring to all the colors she mentioned throughout her entries: black, green, red, blue. But if I remember right, the colors were always tied to somber moods or used to describe a person’s attributes. So who is she talking to…it was
whose
favorite?

I shake my head and start to close the image when it hits me where I’d seen the phrase
Colored by design
before. It was the book I constantly studied in our high school library. The same book Celeste teased me for using an outdated resource. Why would she mention that old book? I can’t help but think this note was meant for me.

There’s only one way to find out.

I’
ve delayed long enough. It’s time to move on, but I can’t leave this dangling. I should never have let sentiment sway me in the first place.

Only fools trust others to make smart decisions.

I start to get out of my car when Cass Rockwell pulls up.

I quickly shut my car door and flip the visor down so she doesn’t see me.

Tension ratchets as I reach over and pop open the glove compartment, my gaze following her into the high school.

Too late.

All I can do now is wait.

S
haking my head, I can’t believe I’m standing in our high school library, looking for a book that has probably been sent to the incinerator years ago.

When my gaze lands on the familiar spine of the oversized book, I take it down, my body tense with anticipation.

I spend the next half hour flipping through every single page, unsure what I’m looking for. When I turn to the last page with no clue as to why Celeste pointed me to this book, I start to close it as I stand, but something slips out of the yellow return card pouch in the back, landing on the carpet.

My pulse thrumming, I put the book away and pick up the thin USB stick.

By the time I return to my car in the parking lot, my hands are shaking. I rub them on my jeans, then open my laptop and slide the memory stick into the slot.

I grunt my annoyance that a passcode is required, but when I see it’s four digits, I immediately type in my name and my heart rate picks up when the drive opens, and a doc pops up with my name on it.

I click it.

Dear Cass,

If you’re reading this letter, then I’m already dead. I debated whether or not to write this at all, but I wanted you to know the truth. I feel I owed you that much.

Phillip took everything from me. Everything.

He colored my life and changed who I became.

If you’ve gotten this far, I can only assume you’ve also read between the lines in my diary, so you know what he did. I was only fourteen! I won’t go into details, but life didn’t get better. It got much, much worse.

For years I suffered in silence.

Until I saw you show up at that Blake party, pretending to be me.

My heart races when I read that part.
Wait…what? She saw me?
I never saw her there and she never mentioned it. I continue reading on, my fingers folding tight around my computer screen.

What better way to find out what people really think of you then to go to a masked party anonymously? I despised the Celeste people thought they knew. What did they say about her when she wasn’t around? Would they even notice her absence? Or care?

You were an unexpected surprise, but so very convincing as Celeste…you gave me hope.

It took me years to make sure every detail would go as planned.

You were pivotal, if I ever wanted to own
myself
again.

But it would only work if you helped.

Phillip owed me the life he stole, so I made him pay by killing his meal ticket.

Celeste had to die.

She had become a thorn in my side. A body to shed.

I wanted to make sure that Phillip never did to another what he did to me. And now he’s paying for my life with his own.

This baby wasn’t part of my plan—yet another of Phillip’s brute force tactics to ensure
his
child inherited the Carver estate—but I’m going to raise my child with love so that she never knows what it feels like to be alone in a crowded room, or to be unable to speak the truth because the words’ edges are too sharp on her tongue. She will laugh and play and be…happy. Something I never was.

I’m a ghost.

Celeste no longer exists.

But this new person thanks you for giving her a life.

I did my best to protect you from a fate I was already living. I hope you realize that now that you’ve walked in my shoes.

Your friend,

P.S. I’m aware that you can give this letter to the police and undo the justice I worked so hard to gain, but this is the risk I’m taking.

I stare at the letter, gutted that Celeste felt so alone that she chose such a twisted path to happiness, but also guilt-ridden by the realization that
I
helped put a man in prison for a murder he didn’t commit. Shutting my laptop, I start my car and pull out of the school’s parking lot, my mind in a daze.