by Chloe Walsh
"No, you don't understand me, Kyle," Lee croaked out. "Of course I don't think she chose to be beaten. No one would choose that. I know what it feels like, so don't put that guilt trip on me. And I don't blame her for leaving him," she paused and inhaled deeply through her nose before continuing. "I blame her for leaving me behind. She ran away and left me to take her place. She left me in that house. With him." She yanked on the end of her ponytail, clearly distraught. "Eighteen years, Kyle. I spent eighteen years of my life hungry, hurt and terrified. She had eighteen years to come back for me…to take me away from that life–from him. But she didn't. Would you do that to your daughter?"
"Don't turn this on me," I argued, but she'd hit me hard with the daughter card. "This isn't about…"
"Would you leave Hope with a man you knew was capable of beating her to a pulp?" she demanded in a hushed tone. "Would you leave our baby daughter with Jimmy Bennett?"
"No," I admitted through clenched teeth. The thought alone made me want to put my fist through the fucking wall. I thought back to the day Jimmy showed up at the hospital, the day before Lee was discharged.
I'd been in the cafeteria getting Lee a coffee when he arrived. Lee swore to me that he'd only been there a couple of minutes before I came back, but I wasn't sure. She had an awful habit of covering up for that man. She couldn't help it, it was built into her psyche after spending years of her life covering up her bruises and burns. Jesus, I'd never felt anger like I had the moment I walked into that room and witnessed him slapping my fiancée across her face. I lost it. Completely fucking lost my mind. I would have put that child-beater out of commission if the damn security guards hadn't arrived. When I'd calmed down enough to make a phone call, I had Kelsie ship that piece of shit back to where he came from with a check. It had pained me to give him anything, but twenty thousand dollars was a small price to pay for his departure. I wanted him out of her life. Permanently. That piece of scum would never so much as stand too close to his daughter or my daughter again. Not while I'm breathing…
"Then why?" Lee begged in an exasperated tone as she sat back in her chair. "Why can't you support me on this? If you knew what my life was like because of that woman. The things he…"
"Then tell me." I dropped Hope's spoon down and gave Lee my full attention. I wanted her to talk about this. Maybe if she said the words out loud she'd realize it was her father who did all the damage. "Tell me."
"What's the point?" she said in a weary tone before pushing back her chair and standing. "You've already picked a team."
"Lee, don't run…" I started to say as she backed away from me. I frustrated as hell as I watched her rush out of the room.
My phone vibrated in my pocket and I groaned loudly. "Daddy's in trouble, Hope," I mumbled, pulling my phone out of my pocket as I fed Hope another spoon of yoghurt. "Have you got room for daddy in your crib tonight? I think mommy needs a time out."
Hope answered me by spitting yoghurt on my shirt. "Thanks for that, angel," I muttered as I pressed the answer button on my phone and held it to my ear. "What's up?"
"Kyle?"
I sat straight up when I registered the voice on the other line. "What do you want?" I said coldly. I'd never liked that guy and after he sold me out to the papers I liked him even less. He'd better have a damn good reason for calling me.
Dixon sighed heavily before he spoke. "I need to talk to you."
"Forget it, asshole," I snarled. "Run along to the papers. Fill them up with more of your bullshit. I'm done."
"It's about Derek," he growled. "He arrived at my place last night and went on a rampage. Trashed the whole damn house."
I sagged in my chair. "How much damage?" I asked wearily. This shit had to stop. Derek needed to get a handle on himself. He couldn't keep behaving like this and I sure as hell couldn't keep chasing after him. All I seemed to be doing was running around after everyone.
"Two windows, the front door and I need to replace my TV," he said before adding, "He needs help, Kyle. That guy needs to be checked in for some serious fucking treatment. He's lost his grasp on reality."
"I'm dealing with it," I growled. I didn't need Dixon Jones telling me what I already knew deep down. I knew Derek wasn't himself, but he wasn't fucking crazy. The man was torn apart. You couldn't stick a plaster on a broken heart and expect it to heal overnight. It took time and patience. He was going through the stages. Right now I was guessing he was at the anger stage and to be honest I'd rather clean up some broken glass than slit wrists–or worse.
"Yeah, well someone better go check on him," Dixon grumbled. "Wouldn't be surprised if the cops have picked him up. Fucking lunatic."
"Watch your mouth, dumbass," I snarled. "Keep your mouth shut about Derek and I'll pay for the damage…" My voice trailed off as my eyes took in a very flushed looking Lee stalking back to our table.
I hung up, slipped my phone in my pocket while keeping my eyes trained on my fiancée. Holy shit, she looked pissed. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her jaw tight with tension as she silently lifted Hope out of her highchair and held her to her chest. "What are you doing?" I asked cautiously.
Glaring down at me, she whispered, "I don't walk away from my children."
"Lee, she didn't walk away for no reason," I argued. "I'm not saying what she did was right…"
"Don't," she hissed as she clutched Hope to her chest. Tears filled her eyes and I watched as she blinked them away roughly. "Just leave it alone, Kyle."
I shook my head in defeat as I pushed my chair back and stood. "I have a meeting with Kelsie in a half hour," I said with a sigh. There was no point in fighting. She wasn't thinking clearly and I was too fucking stubborn to back down. "I need to go check on Derek afterwards. Will you be okay on your own?"
She nodded her head once before turning on her heel and hobbling out of the restaurant with Hope in her arms.
"Stay in the suite," I called after her.
Shit.
****
"Another one," I muttered as I strolled into Kelsie's office and dropped the letter on her desk. Sinking into the chair opposite Kelsie, I drummed my fingers against the armrests of my chair in agitation. This day was going from bad to downright catastrophic. Lee was pissed with me. Derek was AWOL. I'd just spent the last two hours trying to convince Dixon fucking Jones not to press charges and when I finally got that mess cleaned up, I get another damn letter from Rachel… "When is she gonna get it through her thick fucking skull that I am not going to visit her."
"This is good, Mr. Carter," Kelsie mumbled as she tore open the envelope and poured over the hand-written letter inside. "Do you want to read it?" she asked as she peered up at me through her overly large glasses. "It may be of interest to you."
"Hell no," I grumbled as I pulled at my tie. "I just want this nightmare to be over."
"April thirteenth," Kelsie muttered as she leveled her gaze on my face. "That gives us a little under four months. If we don't break her down, Lee goes to the stand on April thirteenth."
"Then crush her," I snarled. Leaning forward, I rested my elbows on her desk. "I want you to do everything in your power to obliterate that woman. Take her down, Kelsie, and I'll make sure you're set for life."
"We have to do this as above board as possible, Mr. Carter."
"No trial," I hissed as I pushed my chair back and stood. "Do whatever the hell you have to…just get her to change her plea. I don't want my girl on that stand." I fucking hated using my money as a bargaining tool, but we were on countdown and Lee…Jesus, I was not going to stand by and watch her be picked apart by Rachel's defense team or have her name dragged through the mud again.
"Any suggestions on how to…sway her?" Kelsie asked and I was pretty sure she was being sarcastic.
"Do you thing I'm joking?" I demanded. "This is my goddamn reality, Kelsie. It's not a game."
She paled and shook her head. "No, Mr. Carter…"
"Money," I said with a sigh. "Money is Rachel Grayson's god."
; ****
Lee
As I pushed Hope's strolled down the path towards Cam's grave I could feel my anger dissipating. I knew I couldn't hide from Kyle forever, but I couldn't sit in that hotel room and wait for him to come home either. I'd said some pretty horrible things to him in the heat of the moment, but he just didn't get it.
I would never try to force David on him. I was on his side, not his father's. David probably had reasons of his own for doing what he did to Kyle, but I didn't want to hear them because they didn't matter to me. There was no excuse for abandoning Kyle. Not in my eyes and that's what hurt me so much. Kyle didn't seem to see my side-or else he didn't want to…
My step faltered when I noticed the familiar broad shaped man crouched in front of her headstone with his head bent. "Hello Mr. Frey," I said quietly. He swung around in surprise and I felt terrible for spooking him. "I didn't mean to startle you."
Ted Frey looked up at me with the saddest gray eyes I'd ever seen and all I wanted to do was hug him. "Lia," he whispered. He always called me that. I think he did it because my daddy hated it so much. They had never gotten along too well. Daddy hated it when anyone shortened my name. "I should have guessed you'd come here today," he said as a small smile tugged at his lips. "Old habits and all…"
"I come most Saturdays," I told him as I locked the brake on Hope's stroller and eased myself down on the grass next to him. I was grateful to be sitting. The ground was cold, but I welcomed the numbing sensation. My back felt like it was going to shatter into tiny pieces of bone. "I don't like her to be on her own for too long," I told him. "And Saturday was always our time together." I didn't add that I came here because his dead daughter was the only one who understood me.
"I remember," he said sadly. "I'm sorry we haven't been to see you." He shook his head. "We weren't sure you would want to see us after finding out…" His voice trailed off and I flinched. I understood what he was talking about.
My mother.
Mr. and Mrs. Frey had helped my mother leave my father. I hadn't wanted to know anything about the whole ordeal, but Kyle had blurted out some of the details one night when I was in hospital. "I'm not angry with you, Mr. Frey," I said quietly. "Or Mrs. Frey." I didn't judge Ted or Mora. They didn't abandon their child. They'd given Cam a wonderful life full of love and nurture and a clean, safe home. And through my friendship with Cam, I'd tasted the love of real parents.
Cam's parents had been good to me growing up. Especially Ted. I remembered overhearing a conversation when I was little between Ted and my father. He had come by late one night and had asked daddy to allow him and Mora to take me and raise me with Cam. I remembered being so excited as I sat on the top of the stairs. I'd been sure my daddy would accept Mr. Frey's offer. Even at four years old I'd known I wasn't wanted. Wasn't loved. Not like other children. Not like Cam. Of course I'd been wrong. Daddy had gone ballistic and after throwing Mr. Frey out of the house he'd come looking for me. I still had the burn marks on my bottom from that fire poker.
"I wish things could have been different," he whispered as he patted my knee. "I have two regrets in this life, Lia," he told me. "Do you know what they are?"
"Camryn," I breathed. It was hard to hear this, to sit next to my best friend's father and hear the hurt in his voice as his pain radiated off him in waves. I ducked my head in shame. "I'm sorry. I know it should have been me."
"Don't say that." Gently clasping my chin with his fingers, he lifted my face. "I never want to hear those words come out of your mouth again, is that clear?"
"Yes sir," I mumbled blinking back my tears.
He sighed heavily as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "I have two regrets in life, Lia," he repeated tucking me into his side. "The first regret I have is failing through inability. My second regret is failing through ability."
"I don't understand," I told him. The man had always spoken in riddles.
"I hope you never do," was all he said.
****
Derek
Kyle was sitting on the steps of the porch when I got home. "Where the hell have you been?" he demanded as he stood up, grabbed his grocery bags and followed me inside. "This is my third time coming here."
"Out," I muttered. There was no point in telling Kyle I'd spent half the day sitting at our old table in the coffee dock of the school campus. The guy had a heart of gold, but tact and sensitivity were not his strong points… He had as much empathy as a moose. Sometimes it was hard to be around him. He was an emotionally strong person…hell, he was virtually invulnerable and his strength exposed my weakness.
"I'm having a really shitty day, Der," he growled as he stormed into the kitchen and starting unloading the groceries I had come so used to receiving. I wasn't hungry anymore, and I didn't feel jack shit, but if I could I think I would be warmed by his attempt at keeping me alive. "Hope was up half the night teething. Lee's on the warpath. Rachel won't back the fuck off, and you," Kyle continued as he pointed a bunch of bananas at me. "Running around the neighborhood, breaking and entering is something I could do without, dude."
"He deserved it," I snapped, feeling something for the first time today. Anger. I welcomed it. "He's a douchebag with a big mouth." I honestly couldn't remember why I went to Dixon's place last night, but I guessed the empty bottle of jack I found in my bed this morning had something to do with it…
"Yeah," Kyle sighed as he closed the fridge door and started gathering up dirty glasses and mugs. "Well, now he's a douchebag who's seven thousand dollars richer."
"You paid him off?" I asked in disgust. "What the hell, Kyle."
"What the fuck else was I supposed to do?" Kyle asked defensively. "It was that or bail your ass out of jail and read all about it in tomorrow's paper."
"I was looking forward to seeing my face on the front page," I shot back, knowing I sounded like an asshole, but not caring enough to shut up. "It's been a while."
Turning on the water faucet, Kyle started washing the dishware as he continued his rant. "You could have been locked up, dude. Don't you get it? Dixon could have made life ten times worse for you."
"How much worse can it get?" I asked in an aggressive tone as I folded my arms across my chest and glowered at the back of his head. "My fucking girl…" I stopped, blanked her face out of my mind and inhaled deeply. "You said Lee was on the warpath?" I said, changing the subject. "I wonder fucking why…meddling again, Kyle?"
"She needs to talk to Tracy, man," Kyle growled as he dropped a plate in the sink and started pacing the floor. The guy couldn't stand still for a minute. Fucker gave me whiplash half the time. "Dammit, it needs to happen." He cracked his knuckles and let out a breath before stalking back to the sink.
I rolled my eyes in disgust. "You think she needs to talk to her. Lee obviously isn't ready."
"Fuck that," Kyle growled. "She needs to hear her mother's side of things. The things he put her through…" He shook his head as he wrung a wet dish cloth and proceeded to wipe down the countertops. "She has so much compassion for Jimmy. Remember when he had his heart attack? She went running straight to Louisiana to sit by his side. The man that beat her for years, Derek. And then her mom gives her a kidney and she won't even hear the woman out. It's driving me crazy." I didn't bother speaking. I knew he wasn't finished. "He's scum," Kyle continued as he grabbed some empty beer bottles and tossed them in the trash. "Jimmy Bennett is a serpent and I swear she would rather speak to him than her own mother. It's sick, Derek. It's disgusting."
I knew for a fact that Lee wouldn't rather talk to Jimmy. She was petrified of the creep. Broke out in a cold sweat when his name was brought up in conversation. My guess was the girl would rather erase both of her parents, or at least avoid them if she could. "Kyle, you need to calm your shit. It's her choice. You can't force her to want what you want."
"I love her," he shot back. "She's my woman. I'm supposed to take care of her. That's my fucking job, Derek."
"Yeah, Kyle, you're supposed to take care of her
, not control her," I snapped. "Dude, you seriously need to cool off, and back off. You pulled this crap with her before and look where it got you. You need to give that girl space and stop breathing down her damn neck. It's not healthy for either of you."
"She nearly died," he hissed running his hands through his hair. "I'm never going to let her out of my sight again."
"So, what, you're gonna give up working so you can watch her twenty-four seven?" I said sarcastically. "Or hire a nanny to watch your fiancée?"
"You don't get…" he paused for a second before smirking. "You looking for a new job, Der?"
Oh Jesus…
"It's your funeral," I muttered, too tired to bother trying to reason with him. He'd do whatever the hell he wanted to do, whether I warned him or not. Might as well save my breath. "Keep pushing her and all you'll be left with is the dust from her shoes as she runs out on you..."
"Derek," Kyle snapped in an agitated tone as he swung around to face me. "Don’t say shit like that," he said as he shuddered. "Don't even think it…" His phone started to ring and I sighed in relief. I wasn't getting into this with him. I was exhausted and Kyle had enough energy to argue for a decade.
Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he pressed a button and held it to his ear. "Marcus, everything okay?" I watched as Kyle's face turned red, then white, then red again as he listened intently to whatever was being said on the other line. "She's back now?" he whispered. "She's okay?" His whole frame shuddered as he nodded his head. "Thanks, man. I'm on my way." He ended the call and stood motionless with his eyes closed and his hands balled into fists at his sides.
"Everything okay?" I asked cautiously. He wasn't moving. I wasn't sure if he was even breathing. "Kyle?" I asked again. "Is everything okay?"