It was not a good look, but my friend and I were unhurt and had a ton of laughs about it. It was alsoyearsago.
After that, Drake began corralling my wild side. He claimed it was for my benefit, to prevent the town from talking about my crazy antics.
He had big plans in Sparkwood, and if I was to be with him, I needed to behave properly. Passing out drunk on city benches was not part of that plan. It was time to grow up.
So, I obliged his request and dimmed my light.
But I still have zero idea what this has to do with his current situation. “What the hell does a New Year’s Eve party fifteen years ago have to do with anything?”
“It haseverythingto do with my case. You were drunk the night of the gala, and you told agents I left a little after eight.”
Granted, some of the details of the night are fuzzy, like the color of the hostess’s dress or what brand champagne was poured, but I remember Drake leaving the gala early. I recall that I was less than thrilled about it, too.
I narrow my eyes at him. “You did leave early. Said you had to get back to the station. I remember checking my phone when you walked out.”
“Then you remember incorrectly, and it’s no surprise with all the alcohol you consumed.”
“What the fuck are you doing?” I hiss, not bothering to hide the venom in my voice.
He wags a finger at me, much like a parent might scold a naughty child. “Ah, ah, you’re going to calm down. We’re adults here.”
Then he taps his fingers against the table in three quick beats.
Once. Twice. Three times.
His unspoken command to remember my place.
Careful, Kiki.
Enough, Kiki.
Get yourself back in line, Kiki.
The sound slices straight through me. For years, that innocuous rhythm was his way of reining me in. I believed it was normal. But being with Eddie has given me true freedom, along with the knowledge that I’m not too much.
To Eddie, I’m perfect, just as I am.
And yet, my spine stiffens out of habit as I fall silent.
“You see,Officer Delaney and Officer Brennan were also at the gala that night,” Drake continues.
I jab a finger in his direction. “I know! Officer Brennan took me home after you left.”
Drake rubs his chin, his eyes steely. “That’s not how Officer Brennan remembers it. Or Officer Delaney. In fact, they both went on record, stating that Brennan didn’t take you home. I did.”
What the hell is happening? I grip my head, desperate to keep the facts straight in my mind, lest Drake drag me into whatever twisted version of reality he’s selling.
“But… but that’s not how it happened, Drake.”
He laughs, but there’s no mirth in it. It’s a sinister sound, washing over me like shards of ice. “Let’s be honest. Lots of people remember you drinking pretty heavily at the gala. You were loud and boisterous and obviouslydrunk. I get the details were murky for you, and you were going on little sleep when they interrogated you. But it’s time to come clean, Kiki. Time to tell the truth.”
“What does that mean?”
“Admit you were drunk, and that you have a habit of blacking out when you drink heavily.”
I’m not an idiot. Drake wants me to walk back my story, align with the one created by his cop buddies, and throw doubt all over the prosecution’s case.
Insanity at its finest, although I’m certain it happens all the time.
