Convicted Read online

  "Really," she said in speculation, thinking about it. "You never bought me flowers before."

  "I didn't work in a greenhouse before," he reminded her.

  "Oh, yeah," Lisa said with a laugh, thinking about where he'd worked while taking the gardening classes. "You used to bring me light bulbs from the Sylvania plant."

  "You light up my life," he told her, repeating the corny joke he'd said way back then.

  The sick feeling in Lisa's stomach had begun to subside, but only a little. "I have to go meet Terry. He's probably worried."

  "I'll give you a ride home," Deacon told her. "C'mon."

  She protested, but he insisted. "I'm not letting you walk home in the dark. Even if you hadn't been attacked already, I wouldn't. Now be quiet and put on the helmet."

  She hadn't been on the back of a motorcycle since the night at The Circle K. Now, riding behind Deacon as the powerful machine vibrated her entire body, Lisa couldn't help think about the promises of the kisses they'd shared. Starting over, she thought as Deacon leaned into a curve. She could handle that.

  Only the single porch light glowed when they got to her house. Allegra must really have stayed at their parents. Lisa couldn't pretend she wasn't relieved. The last thing she needed tonight was a confrontation with her sister.

  "Good night and thanks for the ride," she said, suddenly shy.

  Deacon grinned under helmet. "Any time, lady."

  "See you on Monday," she told him, hoping he'd disagree.

  "I'll call you tomorrow," he said. "We'll talk."

  She watched him ride away and couldn't stop the silly, stupid grin from stretching her mouth. It was like being twelve years old again. She didn't mind. It had been a long time since she'd felt this giddy and lighthearted. Lisa fit her key into the lock and entered the dark kitchen, still grinning.

  "Have a good time?" The question wriggled out of the blackness.

  Lisa screamed and stepped back even as she fumbled with the light switch. Instantly, harsh light flooded the kitchen. She blinked against it, but could still see the figure sitting at her kitchen table.

  "Terry! You scared me!"

  It was an understatement. He'd terrified her. Lisa's hands shook and her knees felt so weak she had to sit in the chair across from his.

  "You were late," Terry said flatly. "I called your parents' house and they said you'd left. I got worried. I came here to wait for you."

  He still wore his uniform. The dark blue color set off his rich blue eyes. Terry was a handsome man. Why didn't she love him?

  "I was walking," Lisa said. "And I decided to take a different way home. And...I ran past Deacon's house."

  "Huh." The short burst of sound wasn't quite a word, not quite an answer.

  Lisa continued, knowing there was no sense in putting off the inevitable. "He was outside. We started talking."

  "Yes?" Terry waited as though he knew she had something more to tell him.

  She couldn't do it. She couldn't tell Terry she'd let Deacon kiss her. He would be angry, but more than that, he'd be incredibly hurt. She didn't want to hurt Terry who'd been nothing but sweet to her in their time together.

  Lisa suddenly felt like the biggest jerk on the planet. She hung her head, knowing she looked guilty. "Time got away from us. I lost my watch."

  "You lost your watch." Terry repeated the words as though trying to mine a different truth from them. As though the excuse was too lame to even consider as truth.

  "And I lost track of time," Lisa said. "I just forgot, Terry."

  "You forgot our date?" Terry asked, a twist of humor on his mouth. "It must've been some conversation."

  Tell him. But she couldn't. Not like this. She had to break things off with him, yes, but not that way.

  "I'm sorry," was all she could say.

  Terry tapped the table top with his fingers. Lisa sighed, twisting her hands in her lap. She couldn't meet his eyes.

  "And he drove you home on his--" Terry paused in distaste. "--His motorcycle."

  "He didn't want me to walk alone."

  "You could've called me. I'd have picked you up."

  "I didn't think about it." It was the truth.

  "No, you didn't think about me, did you?" Terry yelled.

  Lisa jumped at the shout. "Terry, I'm sorry--"

  "You should be!" He shoved back from the table with a gesture so sudden it tipped his chair over. The chair crashed to the floor, skidding across the vinyl flooring and coming to a stop just under the sink. Terry didn't seem to notice the damage which was more frightening than his anger. "You should be, Lisa!"

  "What else do you want me to say?"

  He whirled to face her, her expression a twisted mask of anger. "I want you to say you won't see him any more."

  "I can't say that," she answered quietly. "We work together."

  "You can change that, if you want," Terry said.

  "I can't do that, and you know it." Lisa's headache, which had ebbed during the time she'd been with Deacon, was coming back.

  "You can if you want to." Terry leaned against the counter, his nightstick thumping the cabinets underneath. "But I guess the question is, Lisa, do you want to?"

  She didn't say anything, knowing he didn't really want to hear the truth. Terry cracked his knuckles in rapid succession. Lisa waited.

  "I guess that's my answer." Terry pushed off from the counter and started toward the door.

  "Wait," she felt compelled to say, even though there wasn't any reason for him to.

  Terry paused, his back stiff and straight like he'd been kicked someplace tender. "Just tell me one thing, Lisa."

  "What?" She dreaded the question.

  Without turning, he said, "Did you ever like being with me better? Ever?"

  At this point a lie would only hurt worse than the truth. "No." Saying it made her sick and relieved at the same time.

  His shoulders slumped, but only briefly. Terry touched the door with his fingertips, pausing before pushing it open. "He's a thief, Lisa. A no-good, lying thief. He's not good enough for you."

  "Terry, it's not what you think," she said, though she wasn't sure what Terry thought, or even what was going on with Deacon and herself.

  "No?" he asked quietly. "Then...then I can call you tomorrow?"

  "Sure," she said with so much false heartiness the room rang with it. "Of course, you can."

  "Okay," he said with a sigh all at once so sad it made Lisa want to cry herself. "Tomorrow. Good night, Lisa."

  She answered his farewell and watched him shut the door behind him. A clean break would have been better, but she couldn't do it. Why'd he have to ask her? Why couldn't he have just gathered up his wounded pride and stormed out of her kitchen, telling her to go to hell?

  Because that wasn't Terry, Lisa thought, letting her head sink into her hands. He was good and kind, and he was also very, very stubborn when he wanted his own way. She should have just told him no, but she hadn't, and what further mess had she gotten into because of it?

  The answering machine blinked rapidly, its red light like a malevolent eye. Lisa needed a drink, a cold one. No pop in the fridge, though she knew she'd bought a six-pack just two days ago. She popped the top on a can of tomato juice instead and pushed the answering machine's button for playback.

  The hiss of silence, only lightly broken by some muffled breathing. The click of a hang up. Wrong number. Their phone numbers was only one digit off from the local pharmacy, and they got a lot of wrong number calls. Another hang up. Then another.

  Lisa began to feel uneasy. The silence seemed more menacing, the heavy breathing less like the sound of a confused dialer and more like someone deliberately not speaking. Someone...angry.

  Terry. Of course, he'd have called here first--and maybe several times--before coming over to wait for her. He wouldn't have left a message, not if he expected to see her soon.

  Yet, the messages didn't sound like Terry. Not his breathing, if she could even tell by something as s