Chapter Twenty-Four
Megan
“Why do you keep checking your phone so much?” I asked.
“No reason,” Brent said, looking towards the television.
I frowned. We had been together for thirty minutes since Brent walked into the living room and parked himself on the couch and he had checked his phone thirty-three times in that window of time. And that was only after I noticed and started keeping count. Was he waiting to hear news about Phil? And if so, why did he think he would get a text or call about it?
It was eight in the morning, and I had been up since five because I kept dreaming about Phil and jail and falling. It was unusual for Brent to be up this early, though, and I wondered if on some level, he was worried about Phil, too.
“Hey, how come you’re up so early?”
“Just wired,” he said, with a shrug. “And, I went to sleep really early last night.”
“Oh, okay,” I said, accepting his answer, even though he still seemed strange to me.
Again, I watched as Brent checked his phone. “Is something wrong?” I asked. “Because something seems to be on your mind?”
“Uh… I suppose I was just worried about Phil, you know,” he replied. “The guy can be a jerk, but he was my friend.”
“You keep checking your phone,” I pointed out again.
“Yeah… I have a cop friend,” he replied. “I told him to keep me posted.”
“Oh,” I said. “I didn’t know that. What’s his name?”
Brent paused for a second, and I assumed the television had just distracted him. “Steven Rodriguez.”
“No news from him, then?”
“No,” he replied. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter whether we get news or not, right? I mean, Phil’s out of our lives now.”
I sighed inwardly, feeling a deep-seated pain in my heart. “Yeah… I suppose he is.”
“And we’re better off, Meg,” Brent said. “I mean, the guy was no good.”
I shook my head. “That’s the thing… How could he have been no good?” I argued. “He was a firefighter; he actively put himself in danger every day he was at work in order to save other people.”
“It was just a paycheck to him, though,” Brent said.
I frowned. “No, it wasn’t,” I said. “It couldn’t have been. He loved his job; he was so passionate about it every time he spoke about being a firefighter.”
“What he loved about it was the fame and recognition,” Brent said, turning off the TV and looked towards me. “Trust me; I know Phil. I’ve known him a lot longer than you have. He liked the attention, and firefighting gave him the attention he craved. But obviously, the money was not enough for him, which is why he turned to drug dealing. And let’s face it, it’s in his blood.”
“That’s not fair,” I said. “Just because his brother dealt drugs doesn’t automatically make it inevitable that Phil will go down that road, too.”
“Maybe not in every case,” he said with a shrug. “But certainly in this case it proved to be true, right?”
I sighed. “I just… I can’t get over it. All this…the drugs, the dealing… None of it fits in with his character.”
“And what makes you think you knew his character?” Brent asked. “It’s not as though he was very honest with you. He’s obviously been playing a part every time he was with you.”
“Some things were real,” I said.
I was thinking of every conversation we’d had. I was thinking of every time I had spent the night. I was thinking of every time I had woken up to find Phil’s arms wrapped around me. I had envisioned our future together, and it was easy and simple and perfect. Now all that was gone, and I couldn’t believe how naïve I had been. I guess it’s true what they said about girls being blind when they fell in love. It wasn’t as though I had much experience, either.
“You know, Meg… I was thinking,” Brent interrupted my train of thought.
“What about?” I asked.
“I don’t think Philly is the right fit for you,” he continued unexpectedly.
“What do you mean?” I said, frowning at him.
“Come on; you came here because you dropped out of school and you wanted a fresh start. Obviously, that didn’t work out for you. I don’t think city life is your thing. You’re too…honest and kind and naïve.”
“What are you saying?” I asked.
His words were hitting home, and when he mentioned that he thought I was naïve, I felt even more ridiculous. Apparently, everyone saw it, and apparently, some people had taken advantage of that.
“I’m saying maybe it would be a good idea to go back home and live with Mom and Dad for a while,” Brent suggested. “I mean, I’m sure they’d love to have you, and it’s not like you can afford a place of your own just yet, right?”
I felt like such a failure, and even though my brother’s words hurt, I realized that he might have a point. I couldn’t afford a place of my own just yet and my dream of moving in with Phil had just fallen to the wayside. Obviously, Brent didn’t want his little sister living on his couch indefinitely.
I hadn’t even though about how my presence here was disrupting his life. Maybe my only option left was going back home. The very thought depressed the hell out of me.
“I’ve got to get ready for work,” I said, getting up and heading towards the bathroom.
When I came back out, Brent was sprawled across the sofa eating a bag of potato chips for breakfast. Feeling slightly nauseous, I left for work in a haze of sadness. The moment I arrived, Marta looked at me sympathetically, and I wanted to scream.
“Hi,” she said, as I sat down.
“Hi,” I replied back, without making any eye contact.
“How are you?” she asked.
“As well as can be expected after finding out that the love of your life was a drug dealer and managed to keep it hidden from you for months and months,” I replied, without any feeling.
“Is there anything I can say that will make it better?” Marta asked kindly.
I sighed. “You can tell me that this is all a big mistake and Phil is completely innocent?” I said desperately and without any real hope.
“Oh, you never know,” she said.
I frowned. “I was only kidding, Marta,” I said. “What are the chances that he’s innocent?”
“You tell me,” she said. “You’re the one who spent months and months with him, after all.”
“I obviously am not a good judge of character,” I said.
“What makes you say that?”
“The fact that… Well... I’m from a small town, and I always used to swallow the lies my brother told me as a kid.”
Marta smiled. “Oh, honey, we all believed things when we were kids. I believed in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny when I was seven. That doesn’t mean I’m still that gullible.”
“You don’t get it,” I sighed. “I didn’t just buy Brent’s lies when we were kids. I believed him well into my teens. I believed all my ex-boyfriends when they told me they loved me. I believe people—whether or not they deserve to be believed.”
She shook her head at me. “You can’t paint everyone with the same brush, honey,” she said. “Does Phil seem like the kind of guy to do what he’s being accused of?”
“No, of course not,” I said. “He’s a firefighter, but that doesn’t mean anything, Marta. Professor John Gilbert was the best teacher in my entire college. He was a tenured professor who had the respect and admiration of the student body and faculty alike. I believed in him and his stellar reputation. I made excuses for him, even after he stuck his tongue down my throat.”
I stopped short, feeling a little drained and when I looked back up, Marta was looking at me with that sympathetic look again.
“Is that why out dropped out?” she asked quietly.
“Yes.” I nodded.
“I’m sorry.”
I shrugged. “I should have been smarter.”
“The two situations are completely different,” she pointed out.
“The bottom line is I’m a gullible fool and—”
I stopped talking when I realized that a police officer was walking directly towards me. Marta noticed him, too, and her mouth fell open a little. The officer came up to my desk, and it was obvious that someone had pointed me out to him.
“Are you Megan Jacobs?” he asked.
“Yes, I am,” I stammered.
“I’m Officer Pete Manolo,” he said. “Is it possible to have a few moments of your time?”
I looked around nervously and realized that everyone was watching the two of us. I sunk down low in my chair and nodded. The officer sat down in front of my desk. He had a kindly face, and he didn’t seem too intimidating, but it didn’t matter; I was scared, and my heart was beating faster than a bullet.
“You look nervous?” he observed.
“It’s not every day you get a visit from law enforcement at work,” I pointed out.
“I apologize for this,” he said. “But I visited your apartment, and you weren’t there.”
“Oh,” I said. “My brother would have been in. He told me he was going to be home all day.”
“Nobody answered the door, ma’am.”
“Oh, he must have gone out then.”
“I assume you know why I’m here?” the officer asked.
“You came to ask me about Phil.”
“Yes.”
“I had no idea he was dealing drugs,” I said before he could ask the question.
“Did he ever seem inebriated to you in any way?”
“No, not ever,” I said honestly.
“Did he have contacts you knew about, friends who came around his apartment often?”
“No, not ever,” I said again.
“Did you ever see anything on his phone that you thought was suspicious?”
“Never,” I said. “He doesn’t even have a password.”
“You are his girlfriend?” the officer asked.
“I don’t know if I’m his girlfriend anymore,” I admitted. “But I was, yes.”
“Up until…”
“I found out about his arrest,” I said.
“I see.” The officer nodded. “And how did you meet him?”
“At a party my brother threw,” I replied. “Phil and Brent were friends.”
“He was your brother’s friend?”
“Yes.”
“This is the brother that you currently live with?”
“Yes.”
“Very good, ma’am.” The officer nodded. “If you could give me your contact details, I would appreciate that. If I have any more questions, I will need to speak to you.”
“Okay.” I nodded, writing down my cell phone number with a shaky hand.
“One more thing before I leave, ma’am,” the office said. “You were with Phil for several months, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe he was capable of dealing drugs?”
It was an odd question for a cop to ask. They didn’t usually deal with personal opinions in regards to criminals. What did it matter if an aunt or a friend thought the perpetrator was a good guy?
“No,” I said instantly. “Phil…he’s not that kind of guy. At least, that’s what I thought.”
“So why do you believe he was dealing?”
I hesitated, wondering about that myself suddenly. “I… My brother believes it’s true,” I said, with a shaky voice. “And, he knew Phil far longer than I did.”
“I see, thank you, ma’am.” The officer nodded, before walking away.
I sat there, feeling horrible and guilty. Brent believed that Phil was guilty…was that why I believed he was too? This whole time I thought I had been disappointed in Phil, but maybe the one I was really disappointed in was myself.