Chapter Thirty-three:

"She's still not speaking to me." Reid groaned as he sat opposite an occupied Lydia in the booth of a burger joint. The bleach-blonde girl clasped a powder compact in her right hand and a lip gloss wand in her left as she languidly swiped the product across her pout.

"I mean, what exactly did you expect? You not only humiliated her on holiday, but then you dropped the bomb that your best friend was responsible for Rayhan's death. Oh, and everyone knew about it except for her." She exclaimed as she used the pert edges of a folded napkin to remove the excess product from her lips.

A mere five days had painstakingly slowly passed since that night of revelations that Blaine had been driving the car that had claimed Rayhan's life and that both Reid and Indiya had been back-passengers and thereby witnessed the act. The subsequent atmosphere of the house was strained to say the least. Sihem had stunned everyone by deciding against leaving. She astounded her children further by encouraging them to forgive Blaine for his malfeasance. Ria remained hell-bent on spurning Reid and, to a lesser degree, Sihem for concealing the truth, or at least the truth Ria felt was being fed to her.

"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds pretty bad," Reid argued. His hand slipped out to lightly slap Lydia's hand away as she sneaked it around the condiments to steal a few fries from his plate, "Hey, I specifically asked you if you wanted any fries, and you said no. So, hands off my fries." He teased her.

"I was just making sure you hadn't drenched them in salt again." She taunted back but still managed to steal a fry from him. She glimpsed at the waitress nearing their table and called out, "Sorry to bother you, but I asked for gluten-free bread on my burger." She offered the younger woman an empathic smile while endeavouring to hand her plate.

"That is gluten-free bread." The waitress retaliated, using the back of her forearm to wipe the smidge of sweat forming at her temple, the cleaning flannel in her hand swaying as she did so.

"Sorry, but I don't think it is. It's the texture. It's just too—" Lydia stopped short as Reid's exasperated stare became her focus. "You know what, never mind. I'll take your word for it." She offered a small smile before sighing to Reid as soon as the girl was out of sight, "That," she flipped the burger bun off the fried chicken, "is definitely not gluten-free." Nevertheless, she took a small bite from the burger before returning to the topic of their previous discussion, "And, how do you want me to say it? It's hardly something I can sugar-coat, even if I wanted to. Which I don't." She added.

He allowed his head to rest upon his hands as he thought back to the night's events, "I was a pretty shitty brother, wasn't I?"

"Uh-huh." She nodded, "And I hate to say this but Ria's right. Your story doesn't make sense."

"What do you mean?"

She positioned her burger back onto the table, shaking her fingers against the tissue to remove the residual grease, "Firstly, it's Blaine. He's hardly a criminal mastermind, is he? And secondly, why would Sihem keep him around if he did it? From the stories I've heard, Rayhan sounds like a damn good father and an even better husband. So, how could Sihem forgive him? Accident or not." She placed her hands in a fist beneath her chin, elbows propped against the table's hard surface, "And, Indiya? I mean, that girl is good. Like angelic good. Why would she go along with all this?"

Reid regarded Lydia's words, his head still perched in his hands before restoring eye contact with the girl, "He admitted it, though, Lyd. He told me it was him."

Lydia tilted her head forward at Reid's words, "Wait, what? What do you mean he told you?" But Reid didn't answer immediately, "I thought you were there. I thought you saw him. That was what you said, wasn't it, Reid?"

He tapped his fingers against the slightly grease-stained table surface, the tiny granules of salt and pepper collecting against the pulps of his fingers, "I don't know. I don't remember." Lydia's eyes narrowed with bemusement, "I mean, I was there because I remember being with them. And I do remember going to Blaine's house. I remember..." He cut off, shaking his head at the thought, "But, I don't remember getting into the car. My memories end with us being in his house." He glanced over at her before screwing his eyes closed, "This is going to sound really weird, but I can hear things, but I can't put a picture to them. Like I remember hearing an Arctic Monkeys song, and I'm pretty sure it was from the radio in the car because just as the song came on, I heard Blaine telling me to put my seatbelt on. And I hear Indiya sounding worried. I think she's talking to Blaine, or she's on the phone because...because she's not talking to me, I can't determine what she's saying. And then I hear screaming and crying. And I hear Blaine saying, 'don't look' and then...nothing. I can't hear anything anymore."

Lydia hauled her hand across the table, grasping his greased fingers between her own, "Could it be a coping mechanism? Maybe you can't remember because you've blocked out all the painful memories?" Her voice emerged from her mouth as gentle as a feather, "But what you're saying is that you don't remember seeing Blaine driving? You don't remember him hitting your dad?"

"No." Reid admitted ruefully, "But he admitted it, Lyd. Of his own accord. He begged me to forgive him. Why would he do that if he wasn't responsible?"

----——-

"You said you'd help me. You promised." Ria raised her voice by several decibels as she spoke. She stood midway between the door and the mahogany desk where Rocco currently resided. She'd learnt the hard way, and she'd be damned if she ever gave Rocco so much as another chance to put his hands on her.

"Keep your voice down!" Rocco hissed back, withdrawing his glasses from his face, "I did offer to help. But not during working hours. I'm already not in a good place with McQueen. She took me off the Smithers' Case when your little boyfriend came here. If she finds out about this, she'll fire me."

"And whose fault is that, Rocco? Am I supposed to feel sorry for you because the only way you can get a woman into bed is by manipulating and gaslighting them?" Ria snapped as her patience grew thin by the second. "You need to tell me what else you've found out. It's been a month, Rocco. Show me that you're actually good at something."

He blew an exasperated sigh from between his lips as he tugged out a small file from beneath his desk, slamming it in front of Ria. Her gaze softened as she noted her father's name sprawled across the front sheet of paper in blank ink. "These are the police interview transcripts. Don't get too excited. There's little of substance in them."

She ran her fingertips over her father's name as though doing so would bring her somewhere closer to the truth. She was startled by how small the file was. She'd guess that the file was made up of approximately six pages. She felt the pace of her heart quicken as the organ rose until it sat just short of her mouth. She eagerly attempted to open the file but felt the thin material pierce through the skin of her finger, halting her in her tracks. She ignored the acute sensation and flipped the page, biting back a gasp as she recognised the familiar interviewee's name highlighted on the page.

"Indiya Tengku." The word dripped from her mouth just like the blood leaked from the cut on her sliced finger, sliding downwards into her palm.

Rocco nodded, "In summary, Indiya Tengku was the first person they interviewed regarding Rayhan's hit-and-run. Not as a suspect, though. It was for gathering information purposes." He continued, "The reason was that she's thought to be the last person to have spoken to Rayhan before he died." He registered the startled expression on Ria's face and corrected himself. "She called him at twelve fifty-six a.m. The conversation was one minute and eleven seconds long." Ria's eyes skimmed over the contents of the notes as Rocco resumed, "When interrogated, she said she was with her boyfriend Reid – your brother – and another friend, Blaine. She claims the three were very drunk, Reid the most, so she called his father to come and collect them. He declined because he was working late that night. His place of work was on Shernwell street, of course. Where his body was found - or moved too."

It was a lie. Ria was almost sure of that. While it was true she had retired to bed early that night before her father's return, she was sure she had heard the sound of his laughter intermingled with Sihem's. The sound of the two racing up to their bedroom had woken her from her slumber.

"You don't believe that?" Ria enquired hesitantly.

He jutted his chin out as he scratched it, "I suppose I have no reason not to because Sihem Aslan corroborated her story. Your mother, I presume?"

She flipped to the next page until she reached the part about her mother and heard Rocco's words corresponding to the content of the pages, "Sihem said that Rayhan hadn't come home that night. It wasn't unusual – she didn't think anything of it. That claim was supported by two of Rayhan's colleagues. They said he was a dedicated lawyer, often staying until six a.m. when a case required additional time." He clicked his tongue, "But with the small amount of blood found in the town of Heathfield and the knowledge that there were three drunken kids around at that time, you'd think the police would've asked more questions. The least they should've done was question the two boys Indiya was with."

Ria swallowed. Hard, before flipping the file shut. "As you said, nothing of substance in here." It took a world of willpower for Ria's legs to carry her out of Rocco's office and into the office bathroom. She felt the overwhelming urge to vomit at Rocco's words.

Indiya and her mother were hiding something. Reid was hiding something. Blaine was hiding something. Her life had become a maze, except the walls weren't built of sturdy material but of fabricated truths.

Ria's thoughts were interrupted by the intrusive blaring of her phone - reminding her of the promise she made only last week before her world had begun crumbling from beneath her feet.

Blaine's trial @1700 – (twenty minutes ago), the notification on her phone read.

She felt the nausea that had nestled within her upper abdomen begin dissipating at the thought of seeing Blaine. She hadn't seen him for five long days. Hadn't felt the comforting pressure of his lips against her. Lips that seemed to unleash a bunch of lies whenever they were parted.

He'd texted her. Twice. She hadn't answered. She hadn't known what to say. Maybe he wasn't responsible for her father's death, but he still lied to her.

Her brain advised her to hurry home, but her heart was in control today as her feet led her to her car, and before she knew it, she was pulling up to Heathfield Park.

Knowing she was running late, she squinted her eyes until she could make out the goalpost's white poles and netty material. She could visualise several males spread across the scanty wet grass. She couldn't be sure Blaine was within the group from her distance, but with the warm feeling brewing within her abdomen and the magnetic pull that hauled her through the gates, she knew he would be there.

The steady buzz of grasshoppers and the sun's harsh rays against her neck welcomed her as she strolled towards the open-air benches. She prepared to sit at the back, disguised behind groups of people. That way, she could easily slip out as soon as the trial was over, but the call of a young male's voice disrupted her thoughts.

It belonged to none other than Ben. She recognised the overly toothy grin that took up over half his face. He wore a cherry red shirt with the number eleven etched across the back. The familiar noise-cancelled headphones perched over his ears; his cheeks plump and rosy in colour, presumably from cheering for his brother. She witnessed how his leg jerked continuously, causing his whole body to move with the action. He swung his arms around as she neared him, encapsulating her in a warm welcome, "I'm so happy you came, Ria."

She offered a small smile as she reverted her gaze to the game. Her eyes instinctively searched for Blaine as he expertly manoeuvred the black-and-white ball between his two feet before shooting the ball over to a hollering team member.

"What have I missed so far?" Ria asked, gently nudging the boy with her shoulder.

"Blaine had to provide a urine sample." He scrunched up his nose as he spoke, "It was yellow. I don't think he was very hydrated." He shifted toward Ria and caught the repulsed expression across her face, "Oh, you were talking about the game, weren't you?" He let out an inelegant cough, "Sorry. You missed the solo part of the trial. It was seeing how many goals each player could achieve out of three attempts. Blaine did great – he scored all three."

She felt the pride swell in her chest at Ben's words. Blaine had been wrong – he had always been good enough for football. And if it weren't for the drugs, he would have made it far. Ria was sure of that.

"We're more than halfway through the game now." Ben continued, "Blaine's playing midfielder. The score is three to two now. Reds to blues. Blaine's red." He gripped his shirt, drawing Ria's attention to the scarlet colour of his shirt.

"Was it really bad?" Ben unexpectedly asked. Ria's eyebrows furrowed in response to the peculiar enquiry, but Ben continued, "I asked Blaine when we would next see you, and he said he did something awful and that we would probably never see you again because of it. But you're here now, so it can't be that bad, right?"

"It's... It's nothing. Just a misunderstanding." She responded, reinstating her focus on the game so that Ben couldn't read the uncomfortable expression on her face.

The game was approaching a close with ten minutes left, and undoubtedly, the reds were still in the lead with a new score of four to two. Ria continued watching the game, attempting to focus on all the players but finding her eyes drawing back to Blaine each time. She relished the satin-like curls that framed his face, the way his shirt fit a tad too tight against his toned chest, and even the beads of sweat lingering against his jawline added to his allure.

And then she was awoken by the foghorn-like shrieking from a bunch of teenage girls as the ball was kicked toward Blaine. She observed how he lunged from side to side, setting his foot on the top of the ball before turning towards the benches, aware that he was the subject of the female attention. The subtle smirk on his face gave way to the imprint on his left cheek as his eyes roamed the benches, searching for Ben. His smile fell from his face as he saw Ria before it re-emerged, ten times its original size. She felt her body overheat under his gaze; her body melting into pools of water beneath the intensity of it.

He averted his attention back to the game, prompted by the irate whistles of the referee.

She had come. He hadn't lost her.

Her presence supplied him with the burst of adrenaline that he sought. He hauled back from the ball, closed his eyes, and envisioned her in his mind. For Ria, he thought as he curved his leg back to the ball in one mighty thrust. The ball pivoted throughout the air and narrowly bypassed the goalkeeper's hand, flapping to catch it. The sound of the ball hitting the pole was barely audible behind the deafening applause erupting from the benches.

Ria agreed to wait with Ben whilst Blaine had reconvened with the referee and the remainder of the candidates.

"So, is Blaine still living with you at home?" She asked.

Ben's face lit up, "Yeah, he is. It's been great—Mum's happier. The house is cleaner. It doesn't smell funny anymore. But he's been looking for somewhere else. It won't be the same when he's gone."

She opened her mouth to offer consolement but was disturbed by the sounds of Blaine racing over to them; a hopeful glimmer apparent in the older boy's eye. "Thanks for coming, Ria." He murmured as his hand skirted over to Ben's shaggy mop of hair before settling them upon his shoulders.

"I keep my promises, Blaine," Ria replied, stunned by how harsh her tone sounded, even though she felt nothing but pure elation upon seeing him.

"Ria, you should come back to ours." Ben spoke, not noticing the tension between the two, "We need to celebrate!"

"Ria's a very busy woman. She can't come." Blaine offered, his eyes not meeting hers as his lips folded into a sad smile.

"Actually, I'd love to celebrate with you both," Ria flashed Ben smile. It was true, she felt the pride blossoming within her chest, fit to burst but she also saw opportunity.

An opportunity to use this moment to her advantage. And by the end of the day, she would have the answers she so desperately craved.

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Authors Note:
Hope y'all enjoy the chapter!
Do you like the new cover? :)
Thank you for 7K reads!

Let me know your final theories as we encroach the truth of that night ;) x

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