Still Jaded
Page 62
"Why wouldn't I? Corrigan's my best friend," Bryce said roughly.
"I know. I—just… Luca's here with you?"
"He wanted to be here for Stephen. Those two keep in contact."
"That's good. It's like you and Corrigan, but—"
"No girl."
No girl to mess everything up.
He might as well have said the words because I heard them nonetheless. Flinching, I turned away and hugged myself.
"Sheldon," Bryce started to say something but stopped.
When I looked back, he wasn't looking at me. His gaze was riveted on something down the hallway. Guadalupe was striding our way, determined, and looking pissed off. Her hair was plastered in place, flowing down to her waist. She was dressed in black athletic clothes, skimpy enough to draw attention but not slutty enough to gain disapproval.
"I may be a bitch, but she takes the cake," I noted underneath my breath.
"Sheldon." Bryce glared at me, but something changed in his expression. He looked like he wanted to apologize for something. It didn't matter. She was by his side in the next instant and latched onto his arm. She looked at me, but spoke to him, "Honey, I was so worried. Is your friend okay?"
I sighed, "I can't handle this right now. I shouldn't have too either."
Bryce looked away.
"Go away, Guadalupe. Just go away. He doesn't want you here, and he doesn't need you here." I felt Bryce stiffen in surprise next to me but continued, "We've got a huge mess on our hands, and you're not helping. I need my best friend right now. It's not your place to be here."
She bristled up in anger. "Excuse me? Bryce is with me—"
"Not here, he's not. He's with me and Corrigan. Shoo."
She huffed in disbelief.
Rolling my eyes, I waved her away. When I saw a group at the end of the hallway, I recognized the hotel clerk. Assuming the rest was her entourage, I shouted, "Hey! She's right here."
Guadalupe started muttering underneath her breath.
"Oh no," Bryce sighed.
I didn't comprehend any of it before they were in front of us. The hotel clerk glared at me, but I focused on a thin girl holding a briefcase. She had black glossy hair and pointed features, but I saw how she looked at us. There was a claim in her eyes when she looked at Guadalupe, then she cast disapproval at Bryce and hatred towards me. There was a whole host of other expressions on her face, but I ignored them and asked, "Are you her assistant?"
Shock flared before she clamped down on it and nodded. She seemed wary now.
"Good. Take her away. She's going to make things worse. Corrigan would not want her here, and that's all I care about. Bryce, you can go too if it's that big of a deal. I don't want this to turn into a media frenzy. That's not going to help him. He'd want you here and you focused. She's not going to help that either." I reached out to push Guadalupe towards her assistant, but the assistant was there in a second. She blocked my hand and slapped it away.
Shocked, my eyes snapped to hers, and I couldn't look away. The girl looked crazy, so I asked, "Do you know anything about brakes? I think the police might want to talk to you."
"Stop it, Sheldon. She's not your stalker. Maria, take Guadalupe and everyone else." Bryce stepped between us.
"You'll call later?" Maria snapped as she continued to glare at me.
I narrowed my eyes and stared her down. The little girl had attitude. I had to give her that.
"Leave," Bryce clipped out. He gestured to a guy in the back, who nodded and grabbed Guadalupe. He ushered the entourage down the hallway. I heard more mutterings, complaints, and whining, but in a moment they were gone.
I sighed in relief at the complete silence.
"Sheldon." Sheila was striding towards me with some other detectives behind her. "How is he?"
"He'll be okay." I shrugged. "That's what the doc said."
"Good." She nodded, back to business. "There's been a new development with your case. Someone came forward and confessed to your home's vandalism. I think you'll want to hear this."
"What?"
"Come on." She took off.
I was shaken; confused by everything that had happened. Without thinking, I reached for Bryce's hand. He held onto it with a tight hold.
Then we followed behind as Sheila showed us through a door. When we went into a back room, I saw that they had set up a temporary office. It looked like a staff break room that was attached to another smaller room.
Sheila informed me, "She approached us here. We wanted to get the confession on tape so we set up base in this back room. When the interrogation is done, we'll relocate to the police station. Until then," she gestured to a video camera. My eyes widened when I saw Grace at a table with Officer Milon across from her. Sheila gave me a set of headphones, and I plugged in to hear Grace saying, "…didn't want to be included with this. The house thing wasn't planned, but like I said before—I feel terrible. I would never want anyone to hurt Sheldon. I don't want anything more to happen."
He leaned forward. "Can you state again what you've already said?"
She looked surprised and confused, but leaned into a small microphone and spoke slowly, "Like I said, I'm the one who pushed Sheldon into the glass table. I was supposed to push her into the pool, but everything got mixed up. I pushed her the wrong way."
"Why did you do that?"
She took a deep breath, hesitating, but answered, "It was a hazing thing. The girls from Zeta Gamma Phi approached me earlier in the night. They said I had to do this, but nothing was going to happen to Sheldon. They wanted me to push her into the pool. It was supposed to be a stupid prank, nothing else."
"And what did they say when you shoved her into the table?"
She spoke in a monotone voice, like she'd already said it a million times. "They told me that I couldn't say anything. Sheldon would press charges against us. Then they said that I had no proof that they told me to do it. They'd lie and say I did it on my own, that I was jealous of Sheldon and wanted to hurt her."
"And did you?"
"No. I cared about Sheldon. She'd been a good friend to me."
"Why didn't you come forward when it first happened?"
"I know. I—just… Luca's here with you?"
"He wanted to be here for Stephen. Those two keep in contact."
"That's good. It's like you and Corrigan, but—"
"No girl."
No girl to mess everything up.
He might as well have said the words because I heard them nonetheless. Flinching, I turned away and hugged myself.
"Sheldon," Bryce started to say something but stopped.
When I looked back, he wasn't looking at me. His gaze was riveted on something down the hallway. Guadalupe was striding our way, determined, and looking pissed off. Her hair was plastered in place, flowing down to her waist. She was dressed in black athletic clothes, skimpy enough to draw attention but not slutty enough to gain disapproval.
"I may be a bitch, but she takes the cake," I noted underneath my breath.
"Sheldon." Bryce glared at me, but something changed in his expression. He looked like he wanted to apologize for something. It didn't matter. She was by his side in the next instant and latched onto his arm. She looked at me, but spoke to him, "Honey, I was so worried. Is your friend okay?"
I sighed, "I can't handle this right now. I shouldn't have too either."
Bryce looked away.
"Go away, Guadalupe. Just go away. He doesn't want you here, and he doesn't need you here." I felt Bryce stiffen in surprise next to me but continued, "We've got a huge mess on our hands, and you're not helping. I need my best friend right now. It's not your place to be here."
She bristled up in anger. "Excuse me? Bryce is with me—"
"Not here, he's not. He's with me and Corrigan. Shoo."
She huffed in disbelief.
Rolling my eyes, I waved her away. When I saw a group at the end of the hallway, I recognized the hotel clerk. Assuming the rest was her entourage, I shouted, "Hey! She's right here."
Guadalupe started muttering underneath her breath.
"Oh no," Bryce sighed.
I didn't comprehend any of it before they were in front of us. The hotel clerk glared at me, but I focused on a thin girl holding a briefcase. She had black glossy hair and pointed features, but I saw how she looked at us. There was a claim in her eyes when she looked at Guadalupe, then she cast disapproval at Bryce and hatred towards me. There was a whole host of other expressions on her face, but I ignored them and asked, "Are you her assistant?"
Shock flared before she clamped down on it and nodded. She seemed wary now.
"Good. Take her away. She's going to make things worse. Corrigan would not want her here, and that's all I care about. Bryce, you can go too if it's that big of a deal. I don't want this to turn into a media frenzy. That's not going to help him. He'd want you here and you focused. She's not going to help that either." I reached out to push Guadalupe towards her assistant, but the assistant was there in a second. She blocked my hand and slapped it away.
Shocked, my eyes snapped to hers, and I couldn't look away. The girl looked crazy, so I asked, "Do you know anything about brakes? I think the police might want to talk to you."
"Stop it, Sheldon. She's not your stalker. Maria, take Guadalupe and everyone else." Bryce stepped between us.
"You'll call later?" Maria snapped as she continued to glare at me.
I narrowed my eyes and stared her down. The little girl had attitude. I had to give her that.
"Leave," Bryce clipped out. He gestured to a guy in the back, who nodded and grabbed Guadalupe. He ushered the entourage down the hallway. I heard more mutterings, complaints, and whining, but in a moment they were gone.
I sighed in relief at the complete silence.
"Sheldon." Sheila was striding towards me with some other detectives behind her. "How is he?"
"He'll be okay." I shrugged. "That's what the doc said."
"Good." She nodded, back to business. "There's been a new development with your case. Someone came forward and confessed to your home's vandalism. I think you'll want to hear this."
"What?"
"Come on." She took off.
I was shaken; confused by everything that had happened. Without thinking, I reached for Bryce's hand. He held onto it with a tight hold.
Then we followed behind as Sheila showed us through a door. When we went into a back room, I saw that they had set up a temporary office. It looked like a staff break room that was attached to another smaller room.
Sheila informed me, "She approached us here. We wanted to get the confession on tape so we set up base in this back room. When the interrogation is done, we'll relocate to the police station. Until then," she gestured to a video camera. My eyes widened when I saw Grace at a table with Officer Milon across from her. Sheila gave me a set of headphones, and I plugged in to hear Grace saying, "…didn't want to be included with this. The house thing wasn't planned, but like I said before—I feel terrible. I would never want anyone to hurt Sheldon. I don't want anything more to happen."
He leaned forward. "Can you state again what you've already said?"
She looked surprised and confused, but leaned into a small microphone and spoke slowly, "Like I said, I'm the one who pushed Sheldon into the glass table. I was supposed to push her into the pool, but everything got mixed up. I pushed her the wrong way."
"Why did you do that?"
She took a deep breath, hesitating, but answered, "It was a hazing thing. The girls from Zeta Gamma Phi approached me earlier in the night. They said I had to do this, but nothing was going to happen to Sheldon. They wanted me to push her into the pool. It was supposed to be a stupid prank, nothing else."
"And what did they say when you shoved her into the table?"
She spoke in a monotone voice, like she'd already said it a million times. "They told me that I couldn't say anything. Sheldon would press charges against us. Then they said that I had no proof that they told me to do it. They'd lie and say I did it on my own, that I was jealous of Sheldon and wanted to hurt her."
"And did you?"
"No. I cared about Sheldon. She'd been a good friend to me."
"Why didn't you come forward when it first happened?"
