Part 11 (1/2)

The policeman's wrist cut into Jack's windpipe. ”Want to say that on the record, St. Bride?” Then, abruptly, Wes released him. ”Do us all a favor. Lock the door behind you; keep walking until you cross the town line.”

When Wes left, Jack sank down onto a banquette and buried his face in his hands. As a kid, his favorite toy had been a snow globe, that held a small town of gingerbread buildings and peppermint streets. He'd wanted so badly to live there that one day he'd smashed the gla.s.s ball-only to find that the houses were made of plaster, the candy stripes painted on. He had known that this existence he'd carved in Salem Falls was an illusion, that one day it would crack open just like that snow globe. But he'd hoped-G.o.d, he'd hoped-that it wouldn't just yet.

”They can't do that to you, you know.”

Jack had completely forgotten that Jordan McAfee was still here. ”Do what?”

”Run you out of town. Threaten you. You paid your debt to society for eight months; you're now free to join it again.”

”I didn't belong in jail.”

Jordan shrugged, as if he'd heard this a hundred times before. ”You just spent three-quarters of a year in a place because you had had to. Don't you think you deserve to stay somewhere because you to. Don't you think you deserve to stay somewhere because you want want to?” to?”

”Maybe I don't don't want to.” want to.”

A pair of headlights swept the interior of the diner, the arriving cab. ”Well, I'm a pretty good judge of character. And that sure wasn't the story I got from the look you gave me when I interrupted your evening with a certain waitress.” Jordan set his empty coffee mug in the clean-up basin behind the counter. ”Thank Addie for me.”

”Mr. McAfee,” Jack asked. ”Would you mind if I shared your taxi?”

The light from the porch fell over him, brightening an unlikely halo around Jack's head. ”I didn't do it,” he said immediately. There was still a screen door between them, and Addie pressed one hand up against it.

Jack placed his own hand on the other side of the screen. Addie thought of jail and wondered if he had received visitors, with a wall between him and them, just like this.

”Wes told me everything,” she said. ”The records are computerized down at the station. He said you even came in to register as a s.e.xual offender.”

”I had to. It was part of the plea bargain.”

There were tears in Addie's eyes. ”Innocent people don't get sent to jail.”

”And children don't die. Addie, you know better than anyone that the world doesn't always work the way it ought to.” Jack hesitated. ”Did you ever wonder why I'm never the one to reach for you? Why you're the one who kisses me me, who takes my my hand?” hand?”

”Why?”

”Because I don't ever want to be the man they all said I was. I don't want to be some animal, out of control. And I am afraid that once I touch you, really touch you, I won't be able to stop.” Jack turned his cheek, so that his lips brushed her palm through the wire screen. ”You have to believe me, Addie. I would never rape a woman.”

”I never thought they would, either.”

”Who?”

She lifted her face. ”The boys who did it to me.”

She had been sixteen, a straight-A student at Salem Falls High School. The editor of the school newspaper, with dreams of becoming a journalist. Deadlines often kept her working late, but because her parents were busy with the diner, she wasn't missed at home.

It was cold for April, so cold that when she closed the door behind her and struck off across the playing fields she wished she'd worn jeans instead of a thin skirt. Pulling her coat tight, she skirted the football field, heading toward town.

She heard their voices first-three letter athletes, seniors, who'd led the team to a state champions.h.i.+p this year. Shy-brains didn't mix with jocks-she gave them a wide berth, pretending that she hadn't seen their bottle of Jack Daniels.

”Addie,” one of them said, and she was so surprised they knew her name that she turned.

”Come here for a second.”

She went over the way a bird hops toward food-cautious, a little hopeful, but ready to fly at the first movement of a human nearby. ”You remember that article you wrote on the last game of the season? You did a real nice job. Didn't she, you guys?”

The other boys nodded. There was something almost beautiful about them, with their flushed faces and the bright caps of their hair, like some strange breed she had read about but never really studied firsthand. ”Problem was, you spelled my name wrong.”

”I didn't.” Addie always checked everything; she was a stickler for detail.

The boy laughed. ”I may not be as smart as you, but I know how to spell my own name!” The others elbowed each other and snuffled laughter. ”Hey, you want a sip?” Addie shook her head. ”It'll warm you up ... ”

Gingerly, she took a drink. A comet, streaking down her throat-she coughed up most of it into the gra.s.s, her eyes tearing. ”Whoa there, Addie,” he said, bracing his arm around her. ”Take it easy, now.” His hand began to slide up and down. ”You know, you aren't nearly as skinny as you look walking around the halls.”

Addie tried to draw away. ”I've got to go.”

”First I want you to learn how to spell my name.”

As a compromise, it seemed fair. Addie nodded, and the boy beckoned her closer. ”It's a secret,” he whispered.

Playing along, she bent down, her ear near his lips. And felt his tongue slide inside.

She backed away, but his arms held her tight. ”Now you repeat it,” he said, and ground his mouth into hers.

Addie did not remember much after that. Except that there were three of them. That the bleachers, underneath, were painted blaze orange. That fear, in large doses, smells of sulfur. And that there is a place in you that you don't even know exists, where you can simply stand back and watch without feeling any pain.

”Did you never wonder about Chloe's father?” Addie asked.

Standing in her living room now, Jack swallowed around the block that had settled in his throat. ”Which one was it?”

”I don't know. I never wanted to find out. I figured after that, I deserved for her to be mine and only mine.”

”Why didn't you tell anyone?”

”Because I would have been branded as a s.l.u.t. And because I'm not sure ... I've never been sure ... that they even remembered it happened.” Her voice hitched. ”Wish I had been so lucky. For years I've wondered what I did that made them do that to me.”

”You were in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Jack murmured. We both were. We both were.

For eight months, he'd hated the system, which gave women the benefit of the doubt. But seeing Addie-well, a million men could be locked up wrongfully, and it still couldn't make up for what had happened to her.

”Do they ... live in town?”

”Going to slay my dragons, Jack?” Addie smiled faintly. ”One died in a motorcycle crash. One moved to Florida. One stayed here.”

”Who.”

”Don't go there.” She shook her head. ”No one ever knew what happened except my father, and now you. People figured I was sleeping around and got in trouble. And that's okay with me, Jack.” Her features softened. ”Out of that horrible thing, something wonderful happened. I got Chloe. That's all I want to remember. That, and nothing else.”

Jack was quiet for a moment. ”Do you believe I'm innocent?”

”I don't know,” Addie admitted. Her voice dropped to a whisper. She had known Jack for such a short time that the depth of her feelings for him seemed disproportionate, as if she'd turned on a faucet and unleashed a geyser. She did not understand this, but then there was much in the world she did not understand. Raw love, like raw heartache, could blind-side you. It could make you forget what you did not know to focus exclusively on those few pieces you could commit to heart. ”I want want to believe you,” she said. to believe you,” she said.