Bad Judgment (36 page)

All the pieces start falling into place.

Chad.

Ryker’s mother.

The police report I read last week said it was a red car. Was it the same red car under a cover in the garage at the Grants’ house? It has to be.

“What . . . ? Your mother . . .” My voice shakes when I start to speak. “Your mom is the one who hit Chad?”

I’m not sure if I expect him to dodge the question, but what I don’t expect is stony silence. “I have to talk to my dad.”

“You have to get the family story line straight before you can say anything?”

Ryker glares at Merica. “Give us a minute?”

She looks to the open door of the Law Review office behind us. “You’ve got two, and then I’m coming in. Make her cry and I’ll kill you.”

Ryker pulls me into the empty office and shuts the door.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” My voice is still shaking and betrayal cuts deep within me. “I laid myself
bare
in front of you, and you never said a goddamn thing to let me know that you were hiding something too. Why?” I realize that my questions might be unfair, given the secrets I kept, but . . . “I thought we were done with hiding. I thought everything from here on out was supposed to be
real
. No lies. No secrets. Just
real
.”

Ryker’s face is an unreadable mask. “I didn’t have a choice.”

The words hit me like a blow. “Do you have any idea how shitty I felt every time I had the opportunity to come clean and I didn’t? Do you know how badly I beat myself up over it? And the only thing you have to say right now is
I didn’t have a choice
?”

“What else do you want me to say? That I would’ve been thrilled to tell you that my mother is a functional alcoholic who drove drunk and hit one of our classmates, and my dad wasn’t about to let her go to jail, so he called on me to help clean up her mess?”

“That’s why you didn’t come? The morning I moved?”

He nods. “I couldn’t tell you. Even if I wanted to tell you, my dad wouldn’t have let me.”

Preserving the family name was more important. It’s not a concept I understand, but apparently it made sense to him.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” I whisper the question because I need to know. I thought we were free and clear of all the bullshit, and that I was the only one living with guilt. And now, after I’ve shown him every part of me, right down to the ugly, awful memories, I find out that there’s more going on than I realized.

He shakes his head. “You didn’t need to carry this burden. You’ve had enough shit in your life. Why should this be your problem? It wasn’t relevant to us.”

“It wasn’t relevant?” I try to keep my voice down, but it raises an octave anyway. “I’ve known Chad for more than half my life! You don’t think that if your mom had turned herself in as the cause of the accident that maybe a judge wouldn’t have been more lenient? One word from your dad, or a single offer to help him out with the character and fitness committee, and maybe he wouldn’t have dropped out of school? But instead your family decides to keep its secrets and let someone else suffer for your mom’s actions. Who does that?” Now that the words are spilling out, I can’t stop the rest. “What else are you hiding, Ryker? What else don’t you think I can handle knowing?”

He drops his gaze to the floor. “That I knew—”

Before he has a chance to say more, the door of the Law Review office flies open and Merica strides inside. “The dean is looking for you both. More shit hit the fan.”

My stomach twists into even bigger knots.
What now?

“We’re not done with this conversation,” Ryker says, his face pained, and stabs of guilt slice through me.

I don’t even know what to think or feel anymore.

What a fucking disaster
.

Justine

I feel like I’m walking a gauntlet, headed toward a guillotine. How many more blows can keep coming?

The dean stares us both down from across his desk.

“Ms. Porter and Mr. Grant, we’ve received a report from a student claiming that you’ve violated the student code of conduct.”

“What?” My shock is evident in my tone.

The dean crosses his arms over his chest. “Who is paying your tuition, Ms. Porter?”

I open my mouth to reply but Ryker beats me to it.

“How is that relevant? And what part of the student code of conduct are we accused of violating?”

The dean shifts his gaze from me to Ryker. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out. We’ve received a report that you are paying Ms. Porter’s tuition in exchange for sexual favors.”

No freaking way.
One name flashes through my mind.
Kristy Horner
. That bitch.

“You’ve gotta be joking. That’s ridiculous.”

Ryker leans forward and meets the dean’s stare. “I think we all know who made that accusation, and it’s completely bullshit. My father paid Justine’s tuition in exchange for her to help me study.” He pauses as though gathering himself. His next words hit me like shotgun blasts. “I read the independent contractor agreement they entered into shortly after it was signed, and for the record, my father couldn’t have picked a better tutor.”

“I read the independent contractor agreement they entered into shortly after it was signed . . .”

He knew. He fucking knew.
My brain reels with the information. All those times he pushed me to tell him how I paid for school . . . he already knew.

“Justine can confirm that she felt it would be more fair if they transitioned to a private loan agreement. My father can provide you with copies of both documents.”

Ryker finally looks at me, and I can’t imagine my face is anything but the picture of shock.
He knew
. And he let me believe that he didn’t.

The dean’s look of surprise probably rivals mine. “We’d need to see the agreements to confirm, but if what you’re saying is the truth, then we have no problem here and the accusation would be wildly incorrect.”

“Wildly incorrect? More like malicious and unfounded.” Ryker leans forward in his seat. “Is there a provision of the student code of conduct that punishes students for falsely accusing others? Or perhaps in the employee code of conduct that prohibits the sharing of confidential information learned on the job? For instance, if someone’s mother were to work in the registrar’s office and they shared confidential information with a student.”

The dean sits back and crosses his arms. “If you were to level either of those accusations, they would be investigated seriously because both would indeed be violations of our policies.”

“You want my official complaint now to begin your investigation?”

He shakes his head. “I think you’ve got more than enough to deal with today, Mr. Grant. Tomorrow is soon enough.” Looking to me, he adds, “I apologize for dragging you into this, Ms. Porter.”

I can’t form words yet. My brain is still trying to comprehend that
Ryker knew
. Nodding at the dean, I rush for the door. I yank it open and find Merica standing outside.

“Get me out of here. Please. I need . . . I need to go.”

Ryker comes barreling out of the dean’s office, but Merica throws a protective arm around my shoulder.

“Justine, wait—”

The dean’s voice interrupts from behind him. “Mr. Grant, there’s one more issue we need to discuss. Alone.”

I know Ryker wants to tell the dean to fuck off, but he can’t. It’s the miracle I need to escape.

Merica pulls me toward the elevator. “Let’s go.”

Ryker’s blue gaze drills into me. “You can go, but know that I’m coming for you. I’ll always come for you.”

Justine

A best friend is called
best
for a reason. Because when your entire life implodes and everything you thought you could count on turns to shit and falls apart, a best friend is there with wine, even if it’s not quite noon, to help glue it back together.

Ryker knew.

There’s not enough wine in the world to make me comprehend. I babbled the whole thing to Merica on the way home and she just listened, muttering the occasional
holy shit
.

I carried so much guilt for not coming clean, and all that time, he
knew
.

I’m in the shower, my wine on the shelf just outside but still within reach. The spray beats down at me as I replay the events of the morning over and over in my head.

“Jus! You’re going to want to see this! I’m recording it for you. Hurry your ass up!”

I have no idea what Merica is yelling about, but I don’t think she’d interrupt me at this point for anything that wasn’t crazy important.

“What’s going on?” I yell through the bathroom door.

“Press conference. Justice Grant. You need to see this.”

I shut off the water and grab a towel to wrap around me before rushing into the living room.

“What?”

Merica rewinds whatever she recorded on TV and presses Pause before tossing me the remote. “I’m supposed to go to work, but you need to watch this. And then you need to figure out what the hell you’re going to do about Ryker. Because . . . damn, girl, I don’t have any advice for that one.” She looks at me again with sympathy. “I can call in sick if you want me to. I feel like shit leaving you here.”

I shake my head. “No, go. It’s okay. I’ll be okay. I just need some time alone to think.” I wrap my best friend in a hug. “Thank you for everything.”

“Anytime, babe. You know I’ve got your back. Always.”

“Love you.”

“Love you more.”

I sit on the couch in stunned silence, retrieved wineglass clutched in hand, as I watch the press conference for the third time. Tears are streaming down my cheeks because I don’t know how else to react.

The former Justice Grant is a strong, proud man, but he looks so humbled as he delivers his resignation from the state supreme court.

“As justices, we are held to the highest standard, and I have not lived up to that standard. Beneath these robes, I am only a man, and that man would do anything to protect his family. The choices I made are my own, and so must the consequences be. As of eight o’clock this morning, I have resigned my position on the court. My wife has also officially resigned her position at Grant Bentham Beckett. We understand the cycle of addiction and have all become victim to it. Today, we break the cycle. We end the lies, the shame, and the hiding. There is nothing we can do to take back our actions, but we will accept all responsibility for them.”

His words hit me hard.
We end the lies, the shame, and the hiding
. Justice Grant isn’t the only one who has been a victim of the cycle. Ryker has been brought up in this world where you hide the truth to protect others. You keep the shame secret. You tell no one for fear of upsetting the balance.

Maybe that’s all he knows . . . how to hide the truth? Wasn’t I doing the same thing?

God
, what a fucked-up situation this is. Too many secrets to count.

How could I expect him to turn his mother in to the cops when I couldn’t bring myself to turn mine in the night she broke into my apartment? And I hadn’t seen my mother in years.

So really, how much can I fault him for protecting her? What son wouldn’t?