If You Wrong Us (16 page)

“I want you,” she says. “Badly.”

Her words shoot right to my groin. And as much as I want to run, my body has other ideas.

26

B
ECCA

A
s Johnny and I grew closer, we began to change. Johnny’s insecurities morphed into confidence, and the heaviness he always carried around seemed to lighten. I felt lighter too. And I started to embrace the excitement he offered. Though Johnny’s version of excitement wasn’t dark or dangerous like Travis’s brand of fun.

One day, Johnny even talked me into going to a party.

“So, Waters, what kind of craziness do you have planned for the weekend?” he asked during one of our tutoring sessions at the coffee shop a few block from my house.

“Study group on Saturday,” I told him, not looking up from my book. He was supposed to be reviewing his math lesson so I could quiz him at the end of our session, but it was difficult to keep him on task.

“Oh, impressive,” he said, taking a swig of his Coke. “You actually have plans. With people?”

“Mmmhmm, it’s going to be outrageous,” I said, trying to mimic the voice my sister always used when talking to boys. For once I didn’t attempt to hide my smile.

He looked at the title of my book and read it aloud—“
Gödel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid
”—with a raised brow. “And the rest of the time you’re going to be reading this, aren’t you?”

“
GEB
happens to be a beloved book of my people,” I told him, sipping my tea.

“I have a better idea,” he said, closing my book and pulling it out of reach. “Come with me to a party.”

“A party?”
He wanted to take
me
to a party?

“Yes,” he answered, drawing out the word.

Silence.

“A party,” he continued. “People, drinks, food, fun? Ring a bell?”

“Not particularly,” I said, trying to make a grab for the
GEB
before he slapped my hand.

“There may even be some dancing. I heard a band is setting up in the garage.”

“I don’t see how that’s a selling point for you, Johnny.” I grimaced. “I don’t dance.”

“I bet you can and you just don’t know it.” He stood up from the booth and began to move. “Plus, I’m a great teacher. Look at my hips, for Christ’s sake. You won’t go wrong with me.”

“I didn’t say I
can’t
dance.” I watched his moves with increased interest. “I said I
don’t
dance.”

“Why?” He pulled me out of the booth then and spun me around. “I’m sure you dance just fine.”

“No, I’m an incredible dancer. As you say—look at
my
hips.”

He wasn’t shy when he did.

“I have a better idea,” I told him, stopping him as he was about to dip me.

“Let’s hear it.” He returned to his seat and I followed.

“I’ll go to the … what are they calling it? Rendezvous in the Relics.”

“Whoa, wait a minute. You know about those? I’m impressed.”

“You’re forgetting who my sister is—was,” I said, regretting the words as they left my mouth.

“I never forget that, Becca,” Johnny said. “Never.” Then he squeezed my hand to lighten the mood. “So, go on. If you go to the Rendezvous … ”

“Then you will read
GEB
,” I said, sure this would deter him.

“Done,” he said as soon as the words left my mouth. “Spending a weekend reading in exchange for a date with you? And your dancing hips? It’s a no-brainer.”

So there we were a few days later at the Rendezvous in the Relics, deep in the Detroit ruins. Brit would’ve lost her mind if she saw me. I’d heard there was a party every weekend, but they regularly changed location so the police—or, to be more precise, the criminals—didn’t catch on. The police had bigger fish to fry. And with more 80,000 abandoned buildings to consider, the choices were endless.

That got me thinking about something else entirely.

But when Johnny and I arrived, I was completely out of my comfort zone. I gnawed at my nails, biting them down to the quick. The people, the noise, the activity—it was sensory overload.

Johnny took my hand and introduced me to a few people and actually let me talk. He was completely relaxed, not like when Brit brought me places. She was always on edge and had a habit of answering for me.

We split a beer and talked most of the night.

Everything with Johnny was easy.

He pulled me onto the makeshift dance floor and he wasn’t kidding about his hips. Then we got separated in the crowd.

It was just for a minute or two, but that’s all it took.

A low voice hissed in my ear.

Travis.

“I see you, Bec,” he said. “I always see you.”

27

J
OHNNY

B
ecca, I want you to tell me something,” I say as we lie in her bed. It’s the only time she seems to be in the moment with me and lets down her guard.

“Okay,” she mumbles, rolling onto her side, and it’s so sexy I almost don’t want to ask. I want to go for round two instead.

“When did you first decide to take Ethan?” I ask, toying with a lock of her hair to distract her. “Did you plan it the entire time?”

“I had everything planned out the entire time,” she says without wavering.

It’s not the answer I was hoping for.

I let her words roll around in my head for a while until it all begins to make sense. The way we met. How perfect it was. The timing. The mood. The circumstances. I question if
I
was part of the plan from the very beginning.

“Me too?” I ask, wanting to get to the truth. “Was I part of your plan?”

“Of course,” she says, and I let her hair slide from my fingers.

“What do you mean, of course?” I try to keep the hurt from my voice.

“Well, that’s how it started. I thought we’d make a good team. But this?” she says, pointing to the two of us in bed. “This is something I couldn’t have ever predicted.”

I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. But the fact that she thinks it’s no big deal that she befriended me for this plan? That she tricked me? She doesn’t get it. She honestly doesn’t get it, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to explain it to her.

“Did you pick me because I’m an easy target?” I continue to push, sitting up now. “Easy to control?” I ask.

Because I’m stupid?

“No, I picked you because he hurt both of us,” Becca says. “I knew you were in as much pain as I was. The only thing good that’s come of this.” She runs her hand down my arm. “Us. I’m not ashamed of reaching out to you. It was the best thing I ever did. The smartest move I’ve ever made.”

Again, she’s so confident, so sure. It’s hard not to believe her.

“You don’t get it, Johnny.” She puts a hand to my chest, and it’s both comforting and irritating. “You have all the power now. You know all my secrets. I’m here, in this crazy situation, for you.”

And then she kisses me.

Becca is making us sandwiches downstairs in the kitchen when her parents get home. Mr. and Mrs. Waters are
The Walking Dead.
Each evening, they shuffle in. They grunt and groan, occasionally throwing in a one-syllable word.

I think Cass has it wrong. I think Becca’s parents want to send her away because they can’t be bothered to take care of themselves, let alone their messed-up daughter. I think she’s become a painful, living reminder of all they’ve lost.

Mrs. Waters wears an ugly brown cardigan. She has it gathered in the middle, secured with one button. Except it’s in the wrong hole. She works at a bank, and Mr. Waters works at the courthouse. He’s just as unkempt as the missus, with coffee stains that trickle down the length of his shirt.

I welcome them home. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Waters.”

“Johnny,” Mr. Waters grunts as he throws the keys in a dish on the table.

Mrs. Waters brushes past me to pat Becca on the head. Her hand strokes, bats, and misses, like a blind woman trying to locate her seeing eye dog.

Pat.

Pat.

Her pinkie finger pokes Becca in the eye.

Becca doesn’t acknowledge her parents.

“Come on, Johnny,” she says. “Eat up. We need to get going.”

We move out to the front stoop and stuff our mouths with PB and Js. I eat two to Becca’s one. We need our strength; there’s another long night ahead.

The Elements of a Crime:
The Burden of Proof and
Presumption of Innocence

The burden of proof and the presumption of innocence are truly the foundation of criminal law. It is the most basic rule: the accused is presumed innocent until proven guilty. Music to the ears of criminals around the world. Can I get an
Amen
?

Just as important: the burden of proof lies with the prosecution. And one of the key elements in criminal liability is that the crime must be proven beyond reasonable doubt.

For lesser crimes (like robbery, for example), the elements of action and intention might be enough to win a case. But for the more serious crimes (like homicide),
all
elements of criminal liability must be proven.

In these crimes, one legal requirement is the rule of
corpus delicti
, which actually means “body of the crime.” It means that to convict someone of murder, there must be a body.

This is where I should’ve been more careful.

28

B
ECCA

A
t the party, Johnny introduced me to his sister, Cassie—an alternative girl who Brit would’ve called an unfortunate waste of good genes. Brit hated odd-colored hair, and ink, and piercings. Yes, she favored pretty and pastels. My poor simple sister thought she was Country Club material. Truth was, we were all trash, and only a few of us were going to get out. My sister wouldn’t be one of them, and I could predict Johnny’s sister wouldn’t make it either.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t valuable. She was. And I worked her from that very first moment. She took me in immediately. It was strange—the weaker I appeared, the stronger, and more protective, her feelings grew. She treated me like a fragile bird that could break at any moment. She assumed I was innocent; assumed I was good for her brother.

“You’ve helped bring him back to life,” she told me once. She was so loyal to him. Just as he was to her. It hurt to be around them, because it reminded me what I never had with my sister.

I endured it because I needed Cass. She was useful and she’d help keep Johnny in line. I wasn’t foolish enough to believe I could control him on my own. Not with what was coming.

29

J
OHNNY

L
et’s go.” Becca makes her way to the car. I’m two steps behind her.

“Got the gun?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I say, holding up my backpack, which I dug out of the trash at last bell. In addition to the gun, my bag is full of new supplies—including the bullets. I walked over to the gas station during lunch to meet the other Johnny and get the ammo, and also picked up some more food and water. Going to the station is something I do often—I always need something to eat and a power drink during baseball and in the workout season—so nothing looked suspicious. I’ve been taught well.

Becca slides into the driver’s seat, but I catch the door before she closes it.

“Let me put this in the trunk,” I say before reaching past her to pop the lever.

I hear her loud exhale as I head to the back of the car. The very next moment, she’s at my side. It’s unnerving.

Once I lift the hood to the trunk—and get a look at what’s inside—I know why.

My brain goes haywire as I try to think of the word.

The word that matches what I see lying in the back of the trunk.

I try to grab on to it, but I can’t.

It’s too slippery.

30

B
ECCA

A
fter the Rendezvous in the Relics, I heard from Travis more regularly. But he was smart. He always made sure to cover his tracks. Still, I knew it was him—the calls, the notes, the way he watched me. He was angry and he was fixating again.

Just like he did with Brit.

“Why does she hate me so much?” he used to ask me, over and over again. “Why can she just leave us alone?”