Chasing Innocence | ✓

40 | startling guilt

"Need some help?"

I find Casey digging in the garden. He sits back on his knees, turning to me as I walk down the steps, entering the backyard.

"Sure," he says, passing me a trowel. I take it from him, watching as he begins to shovel at the dirt almost violently.

It's been almost two weeks since I told him everything. He's been distant lately and I worry that I've scared him away. I've rarely seen him around the house and he always seems to find an excuse to leave when I do try to talk to him.

"Have you been avoiding me?" I ask quietly, watching his hands move delicately with the seeds.

He looks over at me briefly before clearing his throat. "No," he lies.

"It's okay if you have been," I admit. "I know that everything I told you would have been a lot to process."

"I can handle it," he snaps, digging harder.

I frown. "I didn't think you couldn't. It's just that I know it might have taken you by surprise or made you see me differently—"

"Why would I ever see you differently?" he asks, shaking his head. "You're inherently good. Something this entire family lacks."

I brush of his weird comment, looking at all the work he's already done for the garden. "You've been weeding?"

"Yeah," he says softly. "I think this is what I want to do when I graduate."

"Weed?"

He offers me a strained smile, shaking his head. "Gardening. I don't really remember a time when I enjoyed anything else."

"Tell me more about it."

He seems to think about it for a moment. He pats down a patch of soil, before beginning to dig a new hole. "I've always pictured myself owning a farm. Just with a few acres, maybe. I don't want anything too big. This yard is hard enough work."

He asks me to pass him a packet of seeds and I reach behind me, offering them to him.

"Maybe I'll have a few chickens. Potentially a horse. I'd called it Pete, I think. But the garden would be my main hobby. I'd grow everything. It's just a stupid dream, though."

"No, it's not. Can I come visit you?"

"You could do one even better," he whispers, smiling to himself. "You could live with me."

Laughing, I bump his shoulder. "What are we planting today?"

"Mum always wanted a vegetable garden. So I thought it might be good for her if I planted some things. I'm starting with carrots and lettuce."

I watch him as he plants the seeds, his brows furrowed. He doesn't seem to realise that I'm smiling sadly at him.

"That's nice of you, Case."

"No, it's not," he whispers, shaking his head.

"Don't be so harsh on yourself. You're the most genuine—"

He suddenly throws the trowel across the yard. It slams against the fence, making me jump. I turn to him, wide-eyed.

"Stop saying stuff like that," he croaks, leaning against his knees as he stares at the small hole he's created.

"Like what?"

"That I'm— I'm nice and kind and thoughtful. That I'm— I'm good."

I frown, saddened. "Why wouldn't I think that?"

"Because it's all a lie. I'm none of that."

"Well," I say, beginning to dig at the soil a few metres from him, "I don't believe that to be true."

He grabs the trowel from my hand roughly. He stands suddenly and I rise too, meeting his height. "Casey, what is going on? Is it everything I told you? Was it too much?"

"What? No. God, you're blaming yourself," he laughs, frustrated. He digs his hands into his hair, pulling at the ends. "It's not fair," he quivers, "I'm so sorry that you ever met me."

"Casey..." I say, concerned. "Don't say that."

"It's the truth," he snaps. "But I've lied so often that I'm sure you won't believe me soon."

I step towards him, but he pulls up a hand, stepping away. "Whatever is going on, it'll be okay. Trust me."

"I do trust you," he suddenly begins to cry and my heart shatters. "You just shouldn't trust me. You told me all about your past when I didn't deserve to know any of it."

I wait for him to continue, wishing I could just hug him but knowing that it will likely scare him away from me. "You can tell me," I assure him.

"You'll hate me," he says, wrapping his arms around himself.

"I could never—"

"You don't know that!" he shouts, wiping his eyes. "You can't promise that when you don't know what I've done."

"We've all done things we regret," I state. "I know that first hand. But it's okay. Whatever it is, you're clearly sorry."

"Have you ever held something in for so long that you wonder how it hasn't killed you?" he whispers, eyes blood shot.

"Yes," I say, breathless. "All the time. That's why I told you everything."

He nods, wiping his nose. "I want to tell you this, but you'll never look at me the same."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because no one does," he states. "I used to be closer to Brax, but now it's like his whole life is revolved around keeping my secret. He's never said it but I know he resents me."

I hadn't noticed anything like that between them, but then again, I've known them for less than a year. Maybe they had been closer once, but that didn't mean they had lost their bond.

It's something I'm all too familiar with. I'd struggled with my relationship with Dean for years, but it doesn't mean that a part of me didn't cherish the bond we had as kids.

"You told me the truth, so I'm gonna tell you mine," he whispers. "Just know that I'm sorry—"

"Casey—"

"And that I never meant to do it. I thought my family were in danger so I— I acted on an impulse. I've hated myself every day since but I can't exactly take back what I did.

I wanted to tell the truth, but Brax said it would only ruin my life. That I shouldn't ruin my life over a bad person who didn't deserve his anyway." 

I know before he says the words what he's referring to. I begin to shake my head, unable to believe him. Because it can't possibly be true. It can't.

"So he took the fall for me. He thought that the evidence wouldn't be enough and that the trial wouldn't happen. But it wasn't that easy, was it? So they all planted evidence and then— then Marco thought that he should kill Matthew. So he did that too."

"No," I croak, tears brimming in the corners of my eyes.

His glassy eyes meet mine and I see that he's telling the truth. I see the scared boy before me. Then I see him standing over a body.

"I did it, Rhea. I killed Dylan Bryor."