“Your parents’ death was a tragedy,” she interrupts, her voice gentle but firm. “But it doesn’t mean every violent act comes from the same place.”
“Violence is violence.” My teeth grind.
“Is it?” She raises an eyebrow. “What about self-defense? What about protecting someone else?”
I stop pacing. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that before you condemn the man, you might want to hear why he did what he did.” She picks up my abandoned tea and presses it into my hands. “People aren’t just one thing, Nora. Not all bad. Not all good.”
“He lied to me.”
“He omitted. There’s a difference.” She sighs. “Though I’ll grant you, it’s a fine one.”
“I trusted him,” I whisper, the pain of it fresh again. “I let him in.”
“Yes, you did.” She touches my cheek. “And that took courage, after everything. Don’t throw it away without making sure it’s what you really want.”
I sink into a chair, cradling the warm mug. “I don’t know what I want.”
“Then give yourself time to figure it out.”
A knock at the door makes us both turn. My heart lurches, thinking it might be Jericho, but Cheryl’s voice calls out a moment later.
“Anyone home?” She appears in the doorway, still in uniform, hat tucked under her arm. Her smile fades when she sees my face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I say automatically.
Grandma gives me a pointed look. “Your sister’s been crying. Seems her boyfriend neglected to mention he’s an ex-con.”
“Grandma!” I protest.
Cheryl’s eyes widen. “Jericho? He’s been in prison?”
“Four years for aggravated assault,” I confirm, watching her expression shift from surprise to professional assessment.
“I knew I should have run a background check,” she mutters, more to herself than to us. “I should have done that after seeing how odd he looked when I mentioned assault to him on the first night I met him. Something wasn’t right about him, I knew it.”
Her furrowed brows and pinched lips are a clear indication that she was not onto it.
“You didn’t know?” I ask, surprised that she really didn’t check him.
She shakes her head. “I didn’t want to do that to you. Remember our deal? I chose the wrong time to keep it,” she adds with a heavy sigh.
The deal we made when we were in high school. Living in a small town and going to the same school means people are bound to poke their noses into each other’s love lives. When I was in ninth grade and Cheryl was graduating, she punchedDick in the nose when shethoughthe did me wrong. He didn’t, at least not that time, but the damage was done, and I was devastated when he refused to talk to me for a week. That’s when we promised each other not to get involved in each other’s relationships.
Cheryl sits across from me, her face serious. “I’m sorry, Nora. I wanted to run a check on him. I did. But I also wanted to be a good sister—” She trails off. “We both decided not to get involved in each other’s love life.” She blows air forcefully. “I shouldn’t have listened to the stupid pact we made years ago. I thought he was good. I didn’t sense anything bad from him. Nothing at all. He’s always given me protective vibes. Always.” Her voice breaks at the end. “I guess I’m not so good at my job after all.”
I watch her rapidly aging face. This news has taken away all of her confidence as a cop.
“You were right though, he’s very protective.” And possessive. Yet I’ve never felt fear with him before.
“I’ll look into this for you.” She nods, more to herself than to me. “And find out exactly what happened.”
“No,” I say quickly, surprising myself. “I don’t want you involved.”
“I’m already involved. You’re my sister,” her features sharpen, “and it was my job to look out for you. No more pacts.”
“Please, Cheryl.” I rub my temples, feeling a headache starting to build. “I need to figure this out myself.”
