Songs for Cricket by Laine, E. (best books to read in your 20s TXT) 📗

Miller jumped in. “So, what does that have to do with this case?”

“I think it’s pretty obvious Miss Foster is disturbed by whatever unfortunate thing happened to her. She’s destroyed one boy’s life; will you let her do it to another? She has a pattern. The boys look like Ross Brisk, and the timing coincides with her claim of rape in both cases. And you’ve been provided clear evidence that has disputed her claim.”

“She corrected her story,” Miller said with a smug smile.

“Exactly. She corrected it to fit the evidence she created,” he began and laid out the theory we’d come to about what Lacey had been doing on the side of the house in the few minutes she’d spent out of camera shot.

“This is crazy, why would she hurt herself like that,” Miller said.

Hastings held up his finger and frowned as he read something on his phone. My phone had also buzzed, but I hadn’t looked at it yet. Since Hastings had everything on pause, I pulled it out. Finley had sent me something. When I opened it, I saw Lacey’s face at the same time Hastings told Miller he needed to see something. When they stepped out, I turned up the volume a little so I could hear the video play out.

Before it finished, Hastings and Miller came back.

“Your client is free to go. We won’t be filing charges,” Hastings announced.

“How do we even know this is admissible?” Miller argued.

“It doesn’t matter. We have her admitting to lying. Admissible or not, no prosecutor will touch this. Besides, he hasn’t been formally charged. You need to apologize to Mr. Connelly.”

Miller looked at me when I said, “No. He was just doing his job. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

I stood up, leaving my lawyer to finish whatever he needed to finish. I wanted to watch the rest of the video and then call Finley. I was pissed at her for taking a risk, but I also wanted to kiss her.

Once I got the door opened, I caught sight of Lacey cursing as she was hauled in. That was fast. Then I caught sight of her bloody face right before Finley came in behind her with a huge bruise on her cheek.

She ran over to me, and I caught her.

“You did it,” I said. “I owe you.”

She nodded and kissed me. Nothing could have been sweeter, even with Lacey cursing me to hell and back in the background.

“You do. Let’s get out of here.”

The air smelled a little cleaner as we left. Home was only a pit stop on Finley’s agenda. She told me to get dressed because I was taking her out. I laughed because it was more like she was the one taking me out, considering only she knew where we were going.

She was waiting for me in my room when I left the shower. I put on the best pair of pants I had. I’d worn them at graduation. We almost didn’t leave when she put her hands on me to button my shirt because I ended up using mine to glide up her bare thigh, slipping under the thin fabric of the dress she wore.

“Later,” she said, slapping my palm away and dragging me out the door.

We ended up at a little restaurant twenty minutes outside of town that lacked respectability, but won on charm. It was pretty dark and had a vibe about it that shook in the room. I wasn’t sure why she’d chosen the place until I spotted the small dance floor.

“We could have gone to a club,” I said, even though I had no idea where one was.

“This is great,” she said, forcing a bite of the dried-up wings that had arrived shortly after we ordered.

I laughed. “You know, I should be mad at you.”

“But you’re not. You never did get mad at me like ever, even when August would get pissed that I would tag along with you guys.”

“I had ulterior motives. I liked it when you were around.”

She leaned over, giving me a great view of her tits.

“You shouldn’t have worn that.”

She laughed. Her smile made me want to take her in the bathroom and work the wood out of my pants.

“Give me a minute. I’ll be right back,” she said as if she’d heard my dirty thoughts.

Not too long after she left, the lights overhead dimmed to a low glow. A spotlight came on in a corner, and I realized what she’d done. A guy came on the stage.

“Welcome to our Monday open mic night.”

I turned to see where Finley had gone. She appeared a moment later with my guitar case.

“You’re up,” she announced, grinning.

For a second, I couldn’t speak. I’d never truly performed for anyone other than my mom and grams.

“I can’t.”

She came over and kissed me. “You can, and remember, you owe me.”

I’d give her that. She had saved my ass. How could I not give her what she wanted? I’d probably suck up the joint, but I chuckled, shaking my head. “Fine. But tonight, that pretty ass of yours is mine.”

“Promise,” she said.

Before I made my way to the stage, I stole a kiss and squeezed her ass for good measure.

It was weird being on stage for the first time. Though oddly enough, it felt right. The place wasn’t full, but I understood why so many people were there, considering the food was shit.

I decided against doing one of my originals and chose a cover from one of my favorite bands, “Renegades,” by the X Ambassadors. It had a nice guitar beat that was immediately recognized. I sang the first lines and every one after to my girl, looking into her eyes. She was my renegade.

When it was over, it felt like the crowd had doubled in size as everyone was on their feet. There was a chant for me to play on. But it was Finley’s nod that had me sitting to play another cover from the same album.

I ended up playing three