The Things We Couldn't Forget

Chapter 36.

As soon as we get back inside of the house, Kelsea and I excuse ourselves upstairs, claiming to be exhausted.

The detectives head back into the kitchen to join Dallas where he still sits on the same counter, talking quietly with the two of them.

We try not to be suspicious as we head quickly up the stairs and close and lock the door behind us, meeting each other in the corner of the bedroom.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Kelsea whispers. "What the actual fuck?"

My head is pounding with fear and frustration and confusion.

"I don't know." I whisper back, huddling close to her.

"The truck." She says, eyes bugging. "That cop was driving the truck."

Officer Gillians.

Frank.

The boy who spent countless weekends here in this house with us. Pretending to be our friend.

The one who has had it out for me since the second I came back.

My ears are ringing in my skull.

"Aries said someone planted that necklace on him." I bite at my lip to keep my teeth from clattering.

"Dude." She says again. "What if...no, it's too crazy, right? Like, no."

But I'm thinking the exact same thing.

"Kels, the police have access to everything." I whisper to her. "He was there with them, they really could have put it in his pocket."

"And all this evidence they have of him at the scene?" Kelsea replies. "You don't think...You don't think they're so dead set on convicting Aries because..."

"Because they're protecting one of their own." I finish for her, absolutely shaking at the thought. "Kels, Gillians has access and the ability to have messed with the evidence."

"Oh my god." She says. "What if he's the one messing with everything because he's the one who is doing it?"

"He can't be." I try to say, but what proof do I have? All of the evidence points directly at Aries, but I know he wasn't the one driving that truck. There is proof of it. Crystal clear, right there in all of the videos.

Gillians has the truck.

He's still driving it around.

He's not even remotely worried about getting caught, because who is the world going to believe? The officer or the man with piles of evidence connecting him to the murders.

"What do we...what do we do?" Kelsea's voice shakes with fear. She already knew she was wrapped up in this sick game with me, and now the players just got that much more terrifying.

A tear slides out of the corner of my eye. "I can't tell them." I say suddenly remembering the information I was so ready to hand over. "I'd lead them straight to him."

"Do you think Davenport knows?" She asks and I shutter again.

"He was right there with him." I shake my head. "He has to know. He has to."

"What about Mayfield?" She lowers her voice, eyes constantly sliding to the door.

I squeeze my head between my hands. "I don't know." I say. "I don't know who to trust now. I don't know who may or may not know about Gillians and his truck. The whole fucking police station has to know, or at least...I don't know. God, I don't know."

Kelsea pulls me in and we hold each other, both internally freaking out while trying to comfort the other.

"We need to talk to Dallas." She says and I pull back.