That knocked the wind right out of my lungs. That wasn’t at all what I expected to hear. Not even close.
“What?”
One
A slut born out of masculine persuasion. That’s what I thought about while I sat in the dark; a jail-cell the size of my bathroom. The noise just down the hall stirred my roommate, a young girl covered in tattoos. She moaned in her sleep and rolled to her side, sleeping off a drunken night. Indecent exposure and disorderly conduct; I wanted that charge.
My lungs filled with an unfamiliar odor as I contemplated the mess I had gotten myself into. I shouldn’t have gotten close to him, the man whose so-called success, confidence, and sex appeal turned me inside out. But I did, I got close, I lost control and I stumbled—straight into the pits of hell. I was on my way to prison, and my mind thought about how I’d fallen in love with my husband, wondering what to do, where to go, and who to turn to. I didn’t really have anyone. Not anyone that I would have trusted.
My body finally collapsed to the springy mattress, dead with exhaustion, sometime early in the morning. Plastic crunched below me and my eyes closed as I held back tears once again. I heard so many different legal ramifications about things I didn’t understand that day, it was crazy. All of it had my mind in worse shape than it already was. The two-hour interrogation left my throat sore from all the yelling and crying. I pled my case with tears streaming down my face, with loud screams, and faint whimpers. The case that I had no idea how to get out of. I was being accused of impersonating my twin, possible murder without a body, and fraud over the hospital bills. I couldn’t even wrap that one around my head. Who in their right mind would go through what I had to screw an insurance company? Absurd.
Sleep never came. Maybe for a few minutes here and there, but that’s about it. I even tried a chant I didn’t remember my mother teaching me, but somehow, knew that she did. I am at peace. I am at peace. I am at peace.
The smell of must saturated my nostrils as I relaxed with the soothing voice in my head. Unfortunately, my mind was far from a meditative state. It wandered to how many people had slept on the same bed, probably thousands. Saliva pooled in my mouth and my stomach felt nauseous, the stench was too strong to ignore. The unfortunate smell hit me again a few hours later, maybe three, but not much more.
I woke to a bright light and unfamiliar sounds, commotion of a brand new day.
“Delgardo, Let’s go.”
The unpleasant odor instantly vanished when I sat up, shocked and confused.
“Go where?” I questioned with a frown, swallowing the apprehension with the dry lump.
The cocky female cop grimaced and looked at me like I had just asked for her gun. “Does it really matter? Get out of here. I want to go home.”
No problem. I followed the female officer out, wearing a frown, wondering what I had woken up to, or who.
What the… I watched him look over his shoulder, cautiously while he scribbled a signature across the bottom of a paper.
“Lane?”
Lane thanked the clerk behind the counter and looked at me with his stress filled eyes and a fake smile.
“How are you?”
“Don’t you mean who are you?”
“I know who you are. Sign your name so we can get the hell out of here.” The genuine smile that he sent my way did little to calm my nerves.
“What name?” That’s a question you don’t ever think about asking. I had no idea what to write.
“Just scribble it. Don’t even worry about that right now,” Lane ordered while pointing to the X, and then three more. The same grouchy police officer gave me my orders and told me not to skip town. I only half listened. My finger glided across words I didn’t understand. I had to be evaluated by a psychiatric physician, and I had to sign for the release of my medical records. Those were the only words I read from all three pages. I could have been signing my life away and I wouldn’t have known it.
“Greggory Richfield is going to meet us in my office before court. He’s the best you’re going to find this side of Florida.”
I dropped the pen and frowned. “I’m going to court?”
His hand landed on the small of my back and he directed me out, ushering me toward the door. “No, not you. He’s got court.”
I pretended to trip, feeling uneasy about his hand on my back. He dropped it nonchalantly, missing my conniving stumble to get his hands off of me. As crazy as it sounded in my head, I was afraid of Paxton seeing him. He would flip.
“Where’s your office? You’re a doctor, right?”
Lane opened the door to Candace’s car and I got the same weird vibe about being in her car. The look on Lane’s face told me I already knew that. “You’re asking about my job right now?”
I blew out a puff of air, thinking about how silly it was and faked a smile. “My mind’s in an odd place.”
“I’m sure it is. We’re going to figure this out. Don’t worry.”
I watched Lane close the door and walk in front of his car. Candace’s car. Weariness blanketed his face, it showed in the way he walked, his demeanor stiff, yet cautious.
“Why are you doing this? Why are you involving yourself in this mess? I don’t think Candace would approve. She thinks we’re having an affair. Are we, Lane? I mean, did we?”
My eyes drifted to my lap with the heavy sigh, waiting to hear what I already knew.
“It wasn’t like that, Gabby.”
“So we never slept together? I’m so confused right now.”
“I know, I know. Let’s take one step at a time. Jesus Christ, Gabby. This is like a Lifetime movie.”
I laughed, I guess trying to make light of things. “You hate Lifetime.”
“No, I hate that stupid DIY crap you watch.”
Lane never even caught it, what I had just said, but I did. Jesus, why couldn’t I just remember? “How do I know that, Lane? Oh, my God. Why do I know you hate Lifetime?”
Lane never answered with words, only a deep exhale. I didn’t ever bother with trying to get an explanation. I had deeper holes to fill, taking precedence over why I knew Lane hated Lifetime.
I focused on the Walkers instead. “I need to get a hold of someone. They raised my sister.”
“The Walkers? From Michigan?”
“Yes,” I said in a guarded tone, wondering how he knew that. My mysterious life kept getting better and better in a sarcastic sort of way. Karma hated me. “How do you know about that? About them?”
“You told me, Gabby. I know everything about you.”
“Why?”
Silence filled the air except for a deep breath that I heard Lane take in from his nose. “I feel obligated.”
“I don’t even know what that means, Lane.”
“I know. I can’t imagine what this is like for you. To have your entire memory erased like that.”
“But you believe me? Oh my, God. What if it’s true? What if I am this horrible person that killed Izzy or Gabby? What if I murdered my sister?”
“Stop it. You didn’t kill Izzy. You’re not Izzy. I mean you are because you traded her places, but that was out of love. That’s the kind of person you are, Gabby. I don’t know a more benevolent person than you. You didn’t kill anyone. Not on purpose.”
My eyebrows were quickly becoming a permanent fixation, twisted and turned inward toward my nose. “I told you about that, but not my husband?”
“Paxton Pierce is a—I’m sure he never asked you.”
Another nervous puff of air escaped my lips and I sputtered a laugh. “I’m sure he didn’t either. I just don’t understand why.”
“It’s probably for the better. Let’s just worry about clearing your name before you end up in prison.”
I could tell he was half joking, but I still worried. “Could that happen?”
Lane was horrible at hiding his feelings. I could tell he was worried, I just didn’t know if it was for me or him, or why he would get involved in the first place.
“No, Gabby. That can’t happen. It’s not going to happen. This will all be over and you’ll be back to your old life before you know it. Trust me. I know what I’m talking about, but I want you to talk to Greg for your own sake. Just in case I’m wrong.”