“Jules.”
Deep frown lines creased her forehead. She crossed her arms over her chest. Her blue eyes studied mine for a few beats before she huffed. “I’m angry with you, Patrick.”
Warm, humid air rushed into the apartment as she stood over the threshold. I felt small under her gaze. The scrutiny was unbearable but necessary.
“Do—do you want to talk about it?”
She nodded and stepped inside. A grateful exhale escaped my lungs. She was going to give me a chance. I didn’t deserve that gift. My eyes closed for the briefest of seconds as I prayed to not screw it up again.
Gooseflesh spread over her arms, and she shivered at the temperature change. Water spots across her chest and belly had bled together to create one very wet, uncomfortable looking dress. “You’re soaked.”
She hugged herself. “I thought I could beat the rain. A two minute walk feels long when it starts pouring.”
“I was going to offer you a towel. Want a hoodie and sweats, too?”
She frowned, paused. Shivered again. “Yeah—yeah, I guess so.”
Jules headed to the bathroom a moment later with my fluffiest towel, Under Armor sweats, and hoodie. A blanket waited for her on the couch. I fretted over how close to sit to her, and opted for one cushion down from where I had placed the blanket. My elbows came to my knees. I caught myself wringing my hands.
She emerged the cutest I’d ever seen. Her hair was in a messy knot on her head. The pants were a little long and her pink toenails barely stuck out from the pant leg. The hoodie swallowed her, like it had the first time. Except I didn’t realize how adorable she looked then. I swallowed hard, wishing with all my heart I could pull her close to me. But I had a lot of explaining to do.
Don’t screw this up, Moore.
She sat on the couch and crossed her arms over her chest again. A protective position. A tiny bit of makeup was smudged around her eyelids like she’d been crying. She raised her eyebrow. Her tone was flat. She was trying to play it cool, but she was breathing too fast, swallowing frequently. Trying her best to keep her emotions at bay. “I know we agreed to stay casual and not put pressure on each other, but I need to know the truth about who you are. If you want to keep being friends, you better start talking right now.”
Fray tsked. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is my cue.” He hurried off the couch and toward his room before I stopped him.
“No, Fray, stay. You need to hear this, too.”
“Ok.” He returned, looking pleased as a nosy old lady. Don’t think I’d seen him look so eager before.
“Jack was right. I do have a felony record. Was released from prison a little over two months ago.” Jules adjusted the blanket around her. She was still trembling, but I doubted it was from the cold. “My road to prison is complicated. You guys want the long version of the story or the short one?”
“Long.” Fray and Jules answered in unison.
I’d dreaded telling this story, but the practice run with Mama and Daddy made it seem a little less daunting. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
THIRTY-ONE
Fifteen years earlier
My foot was over the edge of the hammock, keeping up the momentum. The light receded from the patch of open sky over the water. I took a deep breath of the humid air, listening to the summer sounds.
It was a normal night in our place. Except Gracie still hadn’t arrived. I checked my watch. 9:15 p.m. She was always there by 8:57. I wondered what had held her up. By 9:30, I got out of the hammock and fished my Razor out of my backpack. Gracie had a lot of strict rules in place for us. One of them was I was to never, ever text her. She had my number and could text me, but I wasn’t allowed to text her.
It was something about her parents being strict.
At 9:50, I was worried. In all our years on the riverbank, she’d never been late. I debated following a deer trail back to her house to make sure she hadn’t fallen or gotten hurt along the way. I knew that was paranoia, Gracie would’ve quietly whistled for help, and I would’ve heard. But I decided to check the path anyway.
Our other rule was “no flashlights” until we passed the cover of trees. So I felt my way up the path in the dark. Her trail was less familiar than my own, so I stumbled a few times. The quarter-mile trail stopped against the edge of her property. The Scott family had a sizeable piece of land and a good sized fenced-in yard.
Another Gracie-imposed rule was I wasn’t allowed on their property. I assumed her parents were really mean, so Gracie came to my house all the time. I stood there for a long while. Staring into the darkness. Thought maybe I’d see her dark form sneaking down. There was nothing.
I debated whether to break the rule.
After a few minutes, I decided to walk up to the high fence and see if she was in the backyard. I pushed my face between the slats and closed one eye to get a better view. Eight years of friendship and it was my first look at Gracie’s home. Except I couldn’t see anything. The only light streamed from the all-glass double doors overlooking the back porch and from the single window of the secondary building on the property. When I found no signs of life through the doors, I followed the fence closer to the second building, hoping I could get a better look.
When I adjusted my face against the boards, the building door opened.
