by Hart, Rebel
“Really?”
“Yeah. It was frustrating as hell, too. Apparently, I had the option to press charges, and when I blurted out that I’d be pressing charges, Clint changed his tune. Said if I didn’t press charges, he promised he would.”
“So he didn’t really make the decision to press them.”
“Nope. He did it so I wouldn’t. And I still don’t know why.”
She furrowed her brow. “That’s insane. He was severely injured.”
I shrugged. “I know. Trust me, I get it. It boggles my mind, too. I’m just glad he’s pressing them, one way or another. He needs to. Those boys need to rot.”
“Do you know when he’s talking to a lawyer?”
“Tomorrow, actually. After school. To see what steps he needs to take next.”
“Do you know what they’re going to charge those boys with?”
I sighed. “I don’t have a clue.”
“Do you want my opinion?”
“I’d love anything you’ve got for me right now.”
Allison sat up. “Okay. Objectively speaking, here’s what you’ve got. They approached you in the parking lot, right?”
“Right.”
“And they said all this stuff to you before Clint distracted them, right?”
“Uh huh.”
“Then, Clint drove off and they followed him. Pursued him, right?”
I nodded. “Yep.”
“And even though Clint tried shaking them, they kept following him. Until they ran him off the road.”
I swallowed hard. “Yeah.”
“In my eyes? The only thing Clint has accountability for is getting their focus off you. That was his fault, and it had good intentions. Good motives. Everything else was spurred on by those boys. From pulling up to you guys in the first place to chasing him down, no matter what. To me? The charge should be attempted murder.”
And after a brief pause, I nodded.
“You make a very good point about that.”
Allison scoffed. “There’s no point about it. Drunk or not, those boys knew what they were doing. If they had enough sense to keep in control of that car long enough to be able to ram Clint over the edge of that bridge, then they had enough sense to choose not to.”
I grinned. “You sure you don’t want to be a lawyer or something?”
She giggled. “Nah. I’m just really good at arguing. Dad hates it.”
“Let me guess. You get it from your mother.”
“We’ve chased Dad out of the house a few times. No joke.”
The two of us fell apart in laughter, and it felt good to be laughing again. Especially with the whirlwind this weekend had been. Between listening to D.J. and my mother literally fight all Friday night to the police trip with Clint Saturday morning, I was exhausted. Deep in my bones. I was frustrated, I felt numb to the world, and all I wanted to do was crawl underneath a rock and stay there.
Yet, somehow, Allison had me laughing.
“You two ready for dessert?”
Her mother’s voice filtered up the stairs and we scrambled off the bed. We raced back down the stairs, flopping onto the couch as her mother divvied out massive bowls of cobbler and ice cream. We all sat together, with Allison and me between her parents while we watched a movie and ate our fill. I laughed with them. I sniffled with them. We watched the sweetest little comedy that had us all roaring with laughter and holding back tears.
But all too soon, it was time to go.
“Here, there’s plenty of leftovers. Take some to your mother.”
“And some cobbler, too. We’ll never eat all this I made.”
“Want some lemonade?”
“I could pack some of this ice cream on ice for the trip back.”
I snickered, holding the bags full of tupperware. “I promise, you guys, this is more than enough. Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
After handing me one last bag of food, Allison got the keys to the car from her father. She drove me home, and I sat there for a second gathering the mental energy to walk into the house. I didn’t see D.J.’s car, which was a massive relief. But something in the pit of my gut told me I was still walking into something bad.
Allison put her hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’m good. See you tomorrow morning?”
“See you then.”
I pressed out of the car and made my way for the front door. And when I found it unlocked, my stomach dropped. Mom always locked the door. Even when she was home. Which meant someone had left and she hadn’t bothered to lock it. The second I heard her sniffling, I knew. I knew exactly what had happened tonight.
“Rae? Is that you?”
I closed the door behind me. “Yeah, Mom. I’m home.”
“What’s that smell?”’
“Cobbler and dinner from the Denvers’ house.”
“Can you bring it into the kitchen, please?”
I sighed as I made my way down the hallway. Shadows flashed across the walls as Allison backed out of the driveway, and I wanted nothing more than to chase her down. My home had become a living hell, and I didn’t want to be here anymore. Especially when I saw my mother wiping at her eyes.
Because of fucking D.J.
“You hungry?”
She shook her head. “Just put it in the fridge.”
I did as she asked, then walked over and put a hand on her shoulder. I squeezed it softly as I gazed blankly at the wall, wondering if it would ever stop. If my mother would ever notice her worth. If she’d ever pull herself out of this hole and move on with her life.
“I’m sorry for whatever he did to you tonight.”
Then, without letting her explain, I showed myself off to my room.
32
Clinton
I sat in the lawyer’s office, hating the fact that my father was here. I knew this would happen, too. I told Cecilia not to tell him. I told her to just keep it between us. I didn’t need Dad coming to this damn meeting with me. Cecilia would’ve been fine. Hell, I could’ve done this damn meeting myself! I mean, it took me a little bit to grasp the fact that I was about to press charges on four boys who tried killing me. But, all I had to do was digest that fact. Digest the—the realness of it all.
And of course, the second Cecilia updated my father, he was on the first plane ride home.
“Did we have to do this today? This couldn’t have waited?”
Cecilia scoffed. “Howard, you didn’t have to come. I told you I had this under control.”
Dad shook his head. “The only thing you would’ve done is rack up a larger bill than necessary asking tons of unnecessary questions.”
“So, you’re only here to moderate your funds. Is that it? You don’t care that we’re here to prosecute the boys who almost killed our son?”
Dad paused. “You mean my son, Cece?”
I kept myself poised in my chair, even though I wanted to melt into a puddle on the floor. The second the lawyer’s door opened, though, Dad shut his fucking face. Guess he’d learned his lesson with the doctor in the hospital. I peered over at Cecilia, watching as she crossed her leg over her knee, trying to keep her composure as much as possible, even though I saw the anger in her eyes.
Thank fuck, I’m sitting beside her.
“Afternoon. My name is Omar Littenberg.”
The lawyer held his hand out for Dad and he stood to shake it. Cecilia stayed seated, but she shook his hand in kind. I stood, staring the man in the face with a grateful smile. And as I shook his hand, he held mine just a little longer than necessary.
Had he heard what had happened from the hallway?
Fuck. “It’s really nice to meet you. Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.”
He dropped my hand. “Of course. When I caught word of what happened from the police station, I immediately cleared my schedule.”
Cecilia smiled. “You came highly recommended by the detective over there.”
Dad scoffed. “I�
�ll be the judge of whether or not you take my son’s case.”
Omar sat down. “Actually, you have no legal voice in this room.”
Dad paused. “Excuse me?”
I sighed. “I’m eighteen, Dad. He doesn’t need your consent. Only mine.”
“Well, if he wants his check paid, he’ll make sure he has my consent.”
Cecilia hissed. “Howard, stop it. We’re here for our son.”
“My son.”
I sighed. “Yes, you came recommended by the detective at the police station. He said something about you taking on these kinds of cases before?”
Omar nodded. “Mm-hmm. I specialize in juvie cases. Because they are usually presented to the court and judged in a much different fashion. You might be of legal age, but the boys who ran you down aren’t. They’re still seventeen, so their court proceedings will happen in a different light.”
“Fair enough. So how much do you know about what happened?”
“I know as much as I need to know. Let me rattle it off and see if I’ve got it right.”
Dad sighed. “Can we speed this up a bit?”
Omar darted his eyes over to my father. “This first meeting is free of charge. That’s usually how it works with most lawyers.”
Cecilia humped. “Now, will you hush?”
“Don’t you talk to me that way.”
“I’ll talk to you however I want if it means you’ll sit down and support your son for once.”
I sat there with my eyes closed, waiting for them to stop bickering. And when Omar cleared his throat, I opened my eyes.
“The gist of it is you were approached by these boys, they chased you off, you tried to outrun them, and they ran you off the road and over a bridge. Correct?”
I nodded. “That’s the gist of it, yes.”
“Anything else you want me to know?”
I felt my father’s eyes burrowing into me and I felt sick to my stomach. I wanted to tell the lawyer why they’d chased me off. I wanted to tell him I was defending the girl with me. Rae. And I saw he was waiting for me to bring her up. Cecilia reached over and took my hand, squeezing it for reassurance.
But I saw the look in my father’s eye. Even from the corner of my own. If I didn’t speed this up, there would be hell to pay.
He probably has a plane to get back to soon.
“Um, nothing I want to add for now. I’m really just looking for what we’d charge them with. I don’t know how that all works.”
Omar nodded. “Fair enough. I know this is probably pretty overwhelming. So I’ll make it easy for you. Should you choose me for your case, I’d try the boys for attempted murder.”
Cecilia gasped. “Murder?”
Dad scoffed. “They didn’t try to kill my son. Come on.”
Omar shot him a look. “I’m speaking with your son. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t interject.”
The two of them stared off with one another before the lawyer’s attention fell back to me.
“They intentionally went after you. They intentionally ran you off the road. I’ve seen the crime photos. I’ve read the reports. The theories. And from the looks of the scene, you got off your bike and tried making a break for the woods. Didn’t you?”
I felt my face pale as Cecilia squeezed my hand tighter.
“Is that true, honey?”
Dad murmured under his breath, but I didn’t catch it.
“Uh, yeah. That’s—that’s true. You can see that from the pictures?”
Omar nodded. “Clear as day. Your bike is mangled in one place, but you went over the railing in another. There are separate sets of tire skid marks. Same tires, different areas. They intentionally pushed you over that railing. That’s as much attempted murder as anything I’ve ever come across.”
Holy shit. “Well, I appreciate your bluntness and honesty. Thank you.”
“Mr. Clarke, these kids are lucky you’re still breathing. Otherwise, they’d be staring down the barrel of a very unfortunate future. If it makes you feel any better, I can go easy on them. Suggest juvie for a spell, as well as a specialized schooling atmosphere and court-mandated therapy in exchange for no jail time and having their record expunged.”
I paused. “I’m not sure if that makes me feel any better.”
Cecilia butted in. “You have to do something, Clint. They really did a number on you. Even if you simply sue them for the hospital bills or something—”
Dad snickered. “Yeah. Pay me back some of that money.”
“Howard!”
I rolled my eyes. “Please excuse him.”
“Did you just excuse me for someone else?”
I looked over at my father. “I did. Because you’re acting absolutely insane right now and I’m tired of it.”
His eyes lit up with fire as he stood up from his chair. His eyes panned toward the lawyer as he buttoned his suit coat. Cecilia got up quickly and followed him out of the room, trying to talk some sense into him. And as the door closed behind them, I cleared my throat.
“I’m really sorry for that.”
Omar shook his head. “Not your fault, Mr. Clarke.”
I sighed. “So, if I wanted to press charges, what would we do?”
“We’d gather evidence and serve each of their families with a formal subpoena. The boys are being held right now, so there will be a bail hearing. In which case, I’ll call for no bail since the charges are attempting to take your life from you. I’ll pose that they’re a threat for now, then suggest they be moved to a juvie facility where they can continue their studies while keeping you safe. Then a court date is set and we work on presenting the facts.”
I nodded. “How long will this take?”
“I have a few questions.”
Dad came barging back into the room and the lawyer shot out of his chair.
“Sir, you’ll keep your voice down and keep it kosher. Or I’ll have you removed from the premises.”
Dad walked around the desk, standing toe to toe with the man. “My son needs to focus on his studies. Not fussing over putting four boys in prison.”
“They tried killing your son.”
“And he probably provoked them! Look, I know my son better than you. Better than anyone. He’s a troublemaker, just like they are.”
Cecilia yelped. “Howard! Stop it!”
“No! I’m done with you hopping all over my back and acting like my son is some wounded puppy. You said it yourself, Mr. Whatever Your Last Name Is, he’s a legal adult. He doesn't conduct himself like one, though. Every single issue I’ve ever had with this boy has been brought on by prior actions. Did he tell you two of the boys that approached him that night had gotten into a fight with him earlier in the week?”
Omar shook his head. “No. But I read that in the report.”
I stood up. “How do you know that, Dad?”
He glared at me. “Because I keep tabs on you. Everything you do. You got into a fight with two of those boys, didn’t you? On the football field, at school. You stormed up to them and started wailing on them. For no reason. And you don’t see them pressing charges on you, do you?”
Cecilia stepped to the forefront. “Are you saying Clint deserved to be run off the road?”
Dad rolled his eyes. “Hell, no! What I’m saying is that they came back for revenge. Like every single seventeen-year-old boy does when he’s been wronged. My son isn’t innocent in any of this. And the last thing he needs to be doing is batting off criminal charges of his own when he should be focusing on clawing himself out of high school. Because believe you me, his grades are barely there, at best.”
I flopped back down into my chair. I didn’t know what else to do. What else to say. I didn’t have any more fight left in me, and I didn’t care. I stared at the wall, listening as my father unleashed. He went on a damn rampage as my stepmother tried to calm him down. And all the while, the lawyer stood his ground. Took everything in. Listened to him with a nod of his head.
I just wa
nted to go home.
No, not home.
I wanted to go see Rae.
“Mr. Clarke?”
Omar’s voice ripped me from my trance. “Yeah?”
Dad hissed. “You mean, ‘yes, sir.’”
I nodded slowly. “I’m sorry. Yes, sir?”
“It sounds like your family has some things you need to discuss. Pros and cons, and all that.”
Dad huffed. “You’re damn right we do.”
Omar pointed his finger. “One more outburst out of you and you’re hauled away in handcuffs. Do you hear me?”
Cecilia stepped closer to him. “Howard, I’m begging you. Stop it.”
He shrugged her off. “I’d like to see you try.”
Omar shrugged. “Fair enough.”
He pressed a button underneath his desk and two massive men appeared in the doorway. My eyes bulged as Cecilia stepped toward me, and I wrapped my arm around her shoulder. She gasped and squealed. We watched as Dad struggled against the two massive brutes. It felt like an out-of-body experience, watching him struggle like that. Watching him fight against them until they dragged him out of the office.
Then one of them reached over and closed the door.
“You aren’t going to throw him in jail, are you?”
Cecilia’s voice sounded frantic. But part of me hoped the lawyer did. I looked over just in time to see Omar shake his head, though. Which disappointed me a bit.
“No. He’ll just be removed outside until he can calm down. But this meeting won’t take much longer. I know you still have some things to mull over and discuss.”
Cecilia nodded. “We do, but you’ve been very helpful. Thank you so much.”
I watched the lawyer reach into his desk. He pulled out a small card, then scribbled something across the back. He didn’t hand it to my stepmother, though. He handed it directly to me. I took the card from him and he shook my hand. But he held my gaze with a fervor that magnetized me to my spot.
“When you have a decision, you call me, okay? But, if you need anything—ever—reach out. I’m here to help. Always.”
And as I read between the lines of his unspoken offering, I pocketed his card.
A warning much like the one the doctor in the hospital gave me.