Chapter Twenty
Declan
I turn off my phone and toss it onto the back seat, my eyes focused on the road. I have no idea where I’m going. I just need to get away. I can’t think, or maybe the problem is I’m thinking too much. Either way, I needed to switch off my phone before I did something I regret. I laugh. Something I regret? Isn’t that the story of my life? I can’t think of one good thing I’ve done that I haven’t fucked up. I moved from one mistake to another learning nothing. How dare I think I would ever be good enough for Hannah. She deserves so much more than me. Speaking to her just now on the phone only reinforced that I’ve made the right decision in letting her go.
I wish I was enough, I really do, but I can’t change the past. She’ll end up hating me. She might not see it now, but it will happen. Her relationship with her family is so strained already, that being with me would just push that over the edge.
“Fuck,” I growl, slamming my fist down on the steering wheel.
Anger surges through me because this whole thing is just completely fucked up. I push my foot down on the accelerator, my heart rate increasing as my speed picks up. I could so easily fix everything. Everyone would be better off if I ended this. One swerve of the wheel and this could all be over.
My grip tightens as does the feeling in my chest. My heart pounds as I slowly press down on the accelerator until my foot is flat against the floor. I can’t breathe, but I can’t lift my foot either. I can’t believe it’s come to this. Am I actually going to do this? It would be so easy …
But something is stopping me. Anna. No matter how much I hate my life; no matter how hopeless things seem, I can’t do that to her. I can’t let her suffer another loss, especially without her knowing who I am. I slam my foot on the brakes, angry that I can’t even get suicide right.
I let out a growl, my head slamming against the wheel as the car screeches to a halt. Pulling open the door, I stumble out, my hands shaking. My legs buckle and I fall to the ground, my whole body trembling. What am I doing? I’ve never felt so alone, so scared, as I do right now. I wish I had just died in prison that night. Things would’ve been so much easier on everyone. I’ve ruined so many lives. If I died that night, then I never would have met Hannah again. I wouldn’t have met Amanda. And Anna wouldn’t be here. I leave my car with the door wide open and the keys in the ignition and just walk. Anna is the only good that has come out of my life.
I don’t know how long I’ve been walking, but it feels like hours. The sun is beginning to rise and my feet ache. My heart pounds, begging for me to stop. My body needs a rest, but I can’t. I need to keep going because the more pain I feel, the more at peace I am.
The whole time I’ve been walking two cars have passed. Neither of them stopped, not that I wanted them to. They just flew by, keeping out of my business. I’m the total opposite. If I’d driven past an abandoned car and then later saw someone walking, I’d stop to check that they’re okay.
A few more minutes pass and I hear another car approaching me. Only this time it slows down, pulling up beside me. I glance over, ready to tell them I’m fine, but I recognize this car. My hands clench into fists because she’s the last person I want to see right now.
It hurts too much.
“Go away Hannah,” I mutter. I don’t stop. Instead, I pick up speed, as if I’m trying to outrun her. Which is stupid, because she’s in a car and I’m on foot.
“No, you need to listen to me. Get in the car, Declan.”
“I’m done listening,” I mutter, my eyes on the ground in front of me. I stumble on a loose rock as my body begs again for a rest. “You’re better off without me. Just go. Please?”
“Declan. Listen to me, please. Get in the car. Give me five minutes and if you still want me to go, then I will. I promise.” I stop walking. Defeated, I turn. Her eyes plead with me. I relent. I owe her this much.
“Fine,” I mutter. I stalk around to the passenger side and get in, slamming the door shut. I stare straight ahead, my mind already made up that nothing she says is going to change anything. I can’t let it.
“Look at me,” she whispers.
She takes my hand. I want to pull away, but her touch is amazing. I feel myself faltering. I clench down on my jaw, praying that I have the strength to resist her. If I ever needed God’s help, it was now. Not that He owes me anything.
“Declan, for fuck’s sake,” she whispers. Now she’s getting angry.
She reaches over, forcing my face around until I’m looking at her. My heart races as I reach up and place my hand over hers. All I want to do is hold her face in my hands and kiss those lips. It’s taking every bit of my strength not to do that.
“You didn’t do it Declan,” she says, staring into my eyes. “You didn’t rape Cecily.” I’m sure I’ve heard her wrong. She couldn’t have said what I thought she just did. I stare at her, confused. “Declan, did you hear me? You didn’t rape her.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, upset that she would say this. Is this a feeble attempt to lessen the guilt I’m feeling? Pretend that it didn’t happen? “Of course, I did,” I say harshly. “You know I did.”
“No.” She shakes her head and tears form in her eyes. “You didn’t. Tully read her diary. She’s kept the secret all this time. I only found out earlier today.” She’s rambling and I can’t make sense of what she’s saying.
“Hannah, please, just stop,” I say.
My tone is harsh because I feel like that’s the only way I’m going to get through to her. Why can’t she just let this go, and call it for what it is. We’re a mistake. I pull her hand away from my face. Because I refuse to believe it. I remember it happening, don’t I? Weren’t there enough fragments in my mind that I believed without a doubt what Cecily was accusing me of?
“Declan, listen to me. You didn’t do it. Cecily got really drunk at that party, she passed out and when she woke up, Nash was having sex with her. You were passed out by the pool at that stage. She wrote that she could see you lying on the ground outside, whilst he was doing it.”
“No,” I mumble. She wouldn’t lie. “Why would she have lied about it?”
“Because she came home and she was hysterical. My parents knew something was wrong. She couldn’t have played it off like it was nothing. Her clothes were torn and her makeup was everywhere.” She squeezes my hand, her eyes locked on mine, begging me to believe her. “She told Tully it was Nash. She admitted it wasn’t you.”
“How could she do that? It doesn’t make sense,” I mutter. “If it was obvious that she’d been raped, why say it was me?”
“She was upset at you for not helping her,” Hannah says quietly. “But then things got out of control. I know that she regretted it. I don’t think she killed herself because of you, Declan. I think she did it because she couldn’t live with the guilt of what she’d done.”
I stare out at the road, trying to comprehend what I’m hearing, but it’s impossible. It’s easier for me to believe that I could do that to Cecily and to think she was capable of doing that to me.
My heart’s racing, my mind is a mess, and everything else feels broken. I gasp, every breath I take, making my lungs burn. I can’t believe this. If what she’s saying is true, my whole life has been a lie. I spent four years serving time for something I didn’t do and my whole life trying to make up for it. The disbelief slowly dissipates and gives way to anger. I think about everything I’ve been through, about everything I’m going through now. This can’t be happening.
I feel cheated, like I’ve been forced into a life that I never wanted. All this time, I’ve hated myself for what I did. Nothing ever came close to making up for what happened to Cecily; for what I thought I was responsible for. Fourteen years I’ve been robbed of. Fourteen years that I’ll never get back. I’m angry. So fucking angry that I get out of the car, not trusting myself to be around Hannah at the moment. I don’t trust myself to be around anyone.
“Where are you going?” she calls out, but I don’t answer. I keep walking back to my car, because there’s only one thing I can do. There’s only one place I can go to get the answers I need.
I pull out my phone and dial my friend from the police department. My whole life has been shaped by what happened at this house fourteen years ago. I close my eyes. I feel so betrayed, so broken. It’s like my entire existence is a lie. I devoted my life to God for no reason? This changes everything, and it also changes nothing.
“Hey, Corey, it’s Declan,” I mutter. “Sorry to call so early, but I need a huge favour.”
I stare at the text message on my phone, double checking the address that Corey sent through. He wasn’t happy about supplying me with it—he said he was breaking many rules but I persuaded him into doing this for me. I’m sure I’ll owe him, but the only thing I care about right now is confronting Nash.
He was my best friend right through school. We lost touch after the trial, but I thought it was because he was ashamed of what I’d done. Everyone else was, so why not him? Little did I know the truth. I lost all my friends after what happened, and I’d made peace with that, because no one wants to stand beside a rapist. If I’d been in their shoes, I probably would’ve done the same thing.
The funny thing was, I was in their shoes and I didn’t even know it. It should’ve been Nash up there on trial, not me. It should’ve been Nash that lost everything. It should’ve been him that felt the freezing cold tiles against his face in prison.
I take a shaky breath and get out of my car, marching up the driveway of the modest two-story house. A child’s bike sits beside the front door next to an array of shoes in varying sizes. I don’t want to cause a scene in front of his family, but I can’t promise that it won’t happen.
My hands are clenched into fists, as I work up the courage to knock on the door. In the end, I just do it because I need to get this over and done with. I hear footsteps, which get louder, until the door handle turns. Nash stares out at me, recognition filling his eyes.
“Holy shit. Declan James. How are you man?” he asks. He grins and steps forward, pulling me into a hug. I stand there, my body limp, incapable of reciprocating. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just shakes his head and smiles, like I’m a long-lost friend who’s just turned up after fourteen years of no contact.
“Get in here, man. What the hell you been up to? It’s a great to see you. You want a drink? You caught me on my way to work.” He stares at the collar around my neck and bursts into a fit of laughter. “You’re fucking kidding me, man. Declan James is a priest?” He claps me on the back and shakes his head in disbelief.
I swallow, anger pulsating through my veins. How can he stand there like nothing happened when he knows what he did.? He had to know what he did. He fucked up my entire life, and his response to that is to offer me a fucking coffee?
“No, I don’t want a fucking drink,” I growl. “What I want is to know why the hell you ruined my life.”
He backs up, putting his hands out in front of him. “Hey, calm down. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me?” I laugh. “How about the fact that I’ve lost the last fourteen years of my life because of you?” I take a step forward, grabbing a handful of his shirt and throwing him against the wall. His eyes grow wide with fear as he tries to play down the situation.
“Calm down,” he gasps trying to loosen my hold on him. “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Nash,” I growl. “We were fucking friends. How could you do that to me? How could you do that to Cecily?”
The look in his eyes changes, and in that moment, I know that it’s true. I laugh, anger surging through me. I want to kill him. I want to tighten my hold on his neck and feel his life slip away. I know I’m out of control, but I can’t stop. With all my strength, I swing him around and shove him as hard as I can, sending him flying into the dining table. The wood cracks, splintering and buckling as it collapses under his weight.
“You useless piece of shit,” I growl. “I loved her. She meant everything to me and you took her away.”
It isn’t even about the wasted years or all the time I spent wishing I could change things. This was about Cecily and what I felt for her. The rest I could almost forgive, but hurting her, doing what he did to her is unforgivable.
I lunge forward and grab him again, throwing him against the wall. Blood seeps out of the large gash above his right temple. He’s sweating from fear and is on the verge of tears. I laugh. Is he scared I’m going to kill him? Because I feel capable of doing it.
“Declan, no.”
I spin around. Hannah? What the hell is she doing here?
“He’s not worth it. Don’t do it,” she urges me.
“He needs to pay for what he did,” I mutter. I turn back, looking him in the eye.
“Nothing you do is going to make you feel okay about this. Trust me, Declan. I’ve been there.” She steps forward and puts her hand on my arm. She pulls me back, and this time I let her. Nash clutches his throat, gasping for air as he collapses on the ground.
“Let’s go. Let me take you home, please?” she begs me.
“And what about him,” I spit, still shaking with rage. “He just gets away with it?”
“He doesn’t deserve your anger, Dec,” she whispers, her eyes fill with tears. “I lost her as well. I can’t lose you, too.”
I turned back to Nash, feeling nothing but disgust. I don’t want to leave without more answers, but I know I need to do this for Hannah. I need to let this go before it ruins me again. I brush past him and walk out the door, tugging on Hannah’s hand.
“Let’s go,” I say to her.