I’ll never forget the look on her face when I went to her apartment to tell her he had died. The pain in her voice was palpable. Just as it is every single fucking time I have to walk into someone’s home to tell them their life will never be the same again because a person they love was killed.
I promised Betty her son’s death wouldn’t be in vain.
Now, I’m a fucking liar and she has to live the rest of her days knowing that her kid’s childhood friend shoved a knife through his heart because of an unpaid loan of a few hundred dollars.
“That’s on us.” I stand and button my suit jacket. “Her pain is on us.”
“No.” Darrell rises to his feet. “It’s on Justin Beacon.”
I rest my palms on the top of his desk as I lean forward. “It was our job to put that bastard away, Darrell.”
He raises both hands in the air. “I did my best.”
“It’s not good enough.” I cock a brow in challenge.
His arms cross over his chest. “Get on this side, Sebastian. Go to law school, sit in this chair and do your best. I guarantee you won’t do a better job than I am.”
“Fuck you.” I straighten my stance. “I’d do better. We both know I would.”
“Prove it.” He smiles. “You’d make a great lawyer. You should have stuck with your first instinct.”
I laugh as I turn to leave. “Beers next Tuesday night at Easton Pub, Darrell. You’re buying.”
“Sure,” he calls as I open the door to his office. “I’m not joking about law school. Go. It’s what you’re meant to do.”
Darrell is one of only a handful of people who knows that I was accepted into law school years ago.
I didn’t pursue it. Instead I followed in my father’s footsteps by joining the force. Turning my life upside down to become a lawyer isn’t going to happen. I left that dream in my past.
CHAPTER TEN
Tilly
“I thought you were asleep, Matilda.”
I glance over to where Sebastian is standing in the hallway. He’s only wearing a pair of black pajama pants.
I heard him come in less than an hour ago. It was just past midnight. I was in my room watching a video on my laptop that Frannie sent me of her latest obsession.
Apparently, my twin was serious when she told me last week that she was going to start sewing matching dresses for her daughters. They are a year-and-a-half apart, but Fran has such fond memories of the two of us being dressed alike when we were kids, that she wants to “recreate that magic” with her girls.
I couldn’t help but laugh when she called it magic.
I hated being forced to dress just like my twin until we graduated from middle school. Most of our close friends could tell us apart since Frannie chipped one of her bottom teeth when she fell off her bike when we were seven-years-old.
Everyone else in our school called me Frannie first before I corrected them. It made sense to them given the fact that she was more popular than I was.
“I could say the same.” I tighten the sash of my short blue silk robe. “I’m just grabbing a glass of juice.”
“Pour one for me too.” He motions to the cupboard that holds the glasses. “I dropped some money on the counter for food before I left for work. I want to pay for half of every expense.”
I nod. I was surprised when I woke up early this morning and found two hundred dollars on the counter next to a handwritten note from him. He wrote down his cell number alongside an explanation that I should use the number if I ever need to text or call him. He also wrote that he ate a bowl of my favorite cereal and wanted to pay for half of our combined food costs for the month.
“I’ve never spent more than a hundred dollars a month on groceries.” I reach into the cupboard and grab a small glass. “I put most of your money in the top drawer of the foyer table. Fifty a month is good.”
He approaches and reaches for the glass of orange juice after I fill it. “One hundred a month for food? It all makes sense now.”
I lean my hip against the counter, tugging the top of my robe together with one hand. It was the only thing I put on after I had a bath. “What makes sense?”
