by B. B. Hamel
“You think my dad did this?”
He nods. “Or at least he had a part in it. If I had to guess, he’s the one that convinced the Walkers to pin it on Luke. You had just gotten pregnant, right?”
“Right,” she says softly. “I told my mom a few days before that.”
Slick sighs and leans back in his seat. “Thing is about this stuff, it’s always the family. Almost always, at least.”
“Fuck,” she whispers. “I knew they might be involved, but I never thought…” She trails off.
“It makes sense,” I say suddenly, anger flaring. “They wanted to get rid of the poor trash that got their daughter pregnant.”
“Luke,” she says.
“It’s fine.” I wave her off. “Really. I get it. It’s not your fault. Just the way shit is.”
I turn and look out the window. This is the story of my life, the way my past and my name constantly catches up with me. I was never good enough for Avery, but I never realized just how much that meant to her father.
Now I can see it so clearly. When the Walkers went to cover up the accident, Avery’s father acted on the chance. He had them pin it on me, and he got lucky. It was just bad luck that I happened to be away and easily framed. It was just a bad chain of events and bad luck, and I paid for it with five years of my life.
“Let’s go home,” I say.
Slick starts the engine. He pulls out into traffic.
There’s no getting that time back. But now I have an idea of what happened to me, and we have that confession from Dominic. We can talk to the authorities and bring them down.
But we still don’t know who actually was driving that night, and I’m not stopping until he’s brought to justice.
22
Avery
I’m reeling when I get home. I go spend time with Max, trying to forget my problems for a little while, but I can’t.
It just keeps spinning through my mind, over and over again. The look on that guy’s face haunts me. I keep seeing him smashing into that car, and then admitting to what happened. He looked so sad and horrified.
But worst of all, I knew it the second he said those words that my father was involved.
I can’t imagine another reason why my brother would be talking with the Walker brothers. I don’t know why else he’d hate Luke so much. And my father not allowing me to even so much as write the father of my son a letter was always so suspicious and strange to me. I knew he hated Luke, but I never realized exactly how much.
He’s always wanted to control me. Everything I’ve done in my life has carefully been orchestrated by him, from the small things to the large things, except for Luke. My father wants me to be the person that he imagines I should be, but I’m so far from that. I don’t want to give up and just be that boring girl.
But they’re my family. Picturing them covering up the murder of a woman and sending an innocent man to jail is just too much for me.
I keep it pushed deep down for two days. I don’t see Luke, because he has to work and my family seems to be watching me like a hawk. My brother in particular keeps checking in on me, pretending to be casual about it, but I can tell. He must have heard about us snooping around the shed. He must know. He’s too close with the Walker brothers not to. At some point in the last five years, I think they told him the truth, and now he’s part of it. Now he wants to help cover it up, to help his friends.
He wants to help the murderers, all because they’re the same as him. And that disgusts me.
A couple days is all I can do. I’m boiling on the inside, trying to stay calm, trying to distract myself with Max, but I can only do so much.
On the third day, Thomas disappears. He goes out for a few hours with the Walkers, and I stay home to take care of Max like usual. I get Max to sleep, but I don’t go to bed. I can’t get to sleep these days, because when I do, I just dream about my family destroying the life of the man that I love.
Thomas comes back around one in the morning. I’m sitting on the couch, watching crappy TV, when he comes stumbling into the living room.
He blinks at me, surprised and clearly drunk. “Oh. It’s you.”
I give him a look. “Who did you expect?”
“Mom,” he admits. “She’s usually up late.”
“Drinking,” I say. “I wonder where you get it from.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “What’s your problem?”
“You know my problem, Thomas.”
He grins wickedly. “Yeah. That trash boyfriend of yours. He start drinking and beating you yet?”
I roll my eyes. “Not everyone is like you.”
A flash of anger, but he quickly covers it. “Come on, sis.” He walks over and sits down on the couch. “Don’t be so mad.”
I watch him for a second. He doesn’t normally talk to me like this, or at least he hasn’t for a long time.
“I have a good reason to be mad.”
“Why? Because Franklin and Julian scared you the other day?”
My eyes go a little wide. “That’s what you call it? Scaring me?”
“Sure,” he says, shrugging. “You think they’d hurt my sister? No way. They just wanted your trash boy.”
“Stop calling him that. And you weren’t there.”
“You shouldn’t have been snooping,” he points out. “Why were you there anyway?”
“Why were they following me?”
He shrugs. “I told them.”
“Told them to follow me?”
“No, just that you were leaving with Luke.”
“What’s your problem, Thomas?”
“I’m sick of you doing stupid shit.” He eyes me warily. “You’re going to get people in trouble.”
I stare at him for a second. “You know the truth. I know you do.”
He looks away from me. “You should watch yourself.”
“Who owns that black truck?” I ask him. “Which brother?”
He cocks his head. “You mean Eli’s truck? He hasn’t driven that in years.”
I take a sharp breath. I haven’t thought about Eli in all of this, not even for a single second… but it makes so much sense.
Eli is the youngest of the three Walker brothers. He lives at home, doesn’t go out much, doesn’t work as far as I can tell. I heard he had a bad drinking problem a couple of years ago, but haven’t heard anything about him since.
Maybe he’s drinking to drown his feelings. Maybe he feels guilty about ruining Luke’s life, and killing Lucinda Chavez.
I stand up, heart beating fast. “I’m going,” I say. “Tell mom for me.”
“Going where?”
“Out.” I walk toward the kitchen.
“You better not,” he says angrily. “You can’t keep running away.”
“And you can’t keep trying to cover for them,” I say to him flatly. I turn and leave without another word. I head upstairs, scoop up Max, grab his bag with some toys, blankets, and other things he’ll need, and pack myself some clothes. When I’m done, I head out the front door and get into my car. Max doesn’t wake up as I get him into his car seat.
I sit behind the wheel for a second, staring at my house. I didn’t even know I was making this decision until I was upstairs packing. I don’t have enough stuff, but I can probably buy what I need. I have some savings now, and I still have my job.
I know I’m doing something I can’t ever come back from. If I drive away with Max now, they’ll never forgive me. I spot Thomas standing in the doorway, watching me, but not trying to stop me.
I slowly pull out of the driveway. I left this home a long, long time ago. I’ve been staying here, accepting their help, but I’m done with that. I’m done with them. I’m not their daughter anymore. I can’t be, not if I want to keep on respecting myself.
My brother covers up for them. My mother is a drunk, so who knows what she’s aware of? And my father is the man responsible for sending Luke to prison.
I won’t be a part of it. Not anymor
e.
I drive away and I don’t look back.
23
Luke
I stand in the kitchen, watching Max sleep. The morning sunlight pours in through the window.
He’s wrapped up in blankets on the couch in the little nest we made for him. He looks so peaceful and happy, which is so strange, considering his whole life was just changed. I doubt he even realizes it yet. I should probably wake him up, since we don’t want him sleeping too long, or else he’ll get cranky. At least, I think that’s how it works with kids. I look away, realizing that I barely know him again.
Avery appears, looking sleepy. “Hey,” she says.
“Hey.”
She walks up to me and I kiss her softly. She’s wearing one of my sweatshirts and a pair of shorts. “Is Max asleep?”
I nod. “What did you tell him?”
“Nothing. He only woke up for a second.”
“What should we say?”
“I’ll talk to him, don’t worry.” She sighs. I fill up a cup of coffee for her.
“What about your parents?”
“Fuck my parents,” she says softly.
I grin at her. “My thoughts exactly.”
She sips her coffee. I walk over to her and kiss her again, and soon that kiss turns into a deeper one. I press her back against the refrigerator. I know Max is just over there, but I can’t help it.
The buzz of my intercom pulls us away from each other.
I glance at her. “Are you expecting anyone?”
She shakes her head. “No. Are you?”
“Shit,” I say softly. I walk over to it and hit the answer button. “Yeah?”
There’s a short pause. “Is this Luke?”
It’s a man’s voice, and based on the look on Avery’s face, she knows who it is.
“Yeah, this is Luke,” I say.
“Luke, this is Avery’s father. Can we talk for a moment?”
I pull away from the intercom like it’s a snake. I look back at her and her hand’s over her mouth.
“Well?” I ask her.
“I don’t know,” she says. “I didn’t think… he’d actually come here.”
“It’s your call. We can tell him to fuck off. Or we can hear what he has to say.”
She hesitates a second. “Let’s listen to him.”
“Okay. Grab Max. We’ll go meet him outside.”
“Is that a good idea?”
“More public,” I say. “Plus, he’s less likely to freak out with Max there.”
She takes a breath. “Is that necessary?”
“Yes,” I say. “Go.”
I turn back to the intercom as Avery heads over to get Max ready. I take another breath, anger running through me. This is the man that pushed to set me up, the man that hates me so much for being with his daughter that he’d send me to prison over it. I want to kill him, and he probably deserves it.
Instead, I hit the button again. “We’ll be down soon.”
I walk away from the intercom and quickly get changed. When I’m done, I go sit with Max while Avery throws on a pair of sweats.
When we’re ready, she takes Max’s hand. “Are you ready to see pop?” she asks him.
“Pop?” He rubs his eyes, very sleepy.
“That’s right. Come on, let’s go see him.”
We walk out the door together, feeling grim.
I glance at Avery and she gives me a tight smile. Max seems sleepy but mostly unaware of the situation, which isn’t surprising. Avery doesn’t want to go into detail with him, she thinks it would just be worse. Besides, her family is still his family, and she doesn’t want to take that away from him. Not yet, at least.
We push through the outside door. Robert Seller is standing over near the parking lot, wearing a light jacket and faded jeans, his arms crossed in front of him. I can’t help but think he looks like any other older guy, a little gaunt, a little intense, but mostly just like a dad. That’s the scariest and hardest part about evil: it can look just like anyone else.
We approach him cautiously, but Max gets excited. “Pop!” He runs away from Avery and heads over to her father.
“There he is,” Robert says, catching Max in his arms and lifting him up. “How’s my little man?”
“I slept on the couch,” he says.
“Did you? Was it fun?”
“Yeah.” Max blinks and Robert puts him back down. Avery and I stop a few feet away, and I can feel Avery’s nervousness radiating off her.
Robert gives us a look. “Why don’t you go run along and play?” he asks Max.
“Go ahead,” Avery says. “Go play by that tree over there.
Max wanders off and sits down in the roots maybe fifteen feet from us, methodically picking up leaves and tearing them apart. The wind blows and he laughs as the shreds pick up and float along. He repeats that process, looking content.
Robert watches us for a moment. “Looks like we have a mess here,” he says finally.
“What do you mean?” Avery asks.
“I think I expressly told you not to see this—” he glances at me with a frown, “this boy, or else you’d be gone.”
“I am gone,” she says. “You think I want to come back?”
He narrows his eyes. “There’s no turning back from this, Avery. You can’t just come and go as you please.”
“She made up her mind,” I say to him.
His eyes crack to mine like whips. “I didn’t ask you, boy. Stay out of this.”
Avery puts her hand in mine and squeezes. “Dad, I don’t want to come back. I don’t want to be a part of that house anymore.”
“After all I gave you?” he says, anger rising in his eyes. “After all the help you needed with Max?”
“I know,” she says softly. “And I’ll always appreciate it. I needed that help more than you could know.” She pauses for a second. “But it’s your fault.”
“My fault?” he asks.
I stare at her, surprised. I didn’t expect this tactic, not at all.
“It’s your fault I needed help in the first place. If you hadn’t made sure Luke went down for that murder—”
He cuts her off. “How the hell did I have anything to do with what that kid did?”
“First off, he didn’t do anything and you know that.” Robert doesn’t respond. “And second, you know how you were involved. I’ve been investigating this whole thing since he went away.”
“Investigating?” He laughs, completely incredulous. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I hired the PI that proved Luke’s innocence. Before that, for years I was working on this case, interviewing people, reviewing documents, trying to find some hole in the story that could prove that he didn’t do it. I was the one, dad, from the start.”
Robert stares at her, clearly taken off guard. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, dad, that I’m on to you and the Walkers.”
He stares at her for a second before busting out laughing. I clench my jaw and watch him, trying to hold myself back.
All I want to do is hurt this man. He’s the reason I was behind bars, the reason my son grew up without a father, the reason I couldn’t see or speak to Avery for five years. He’s the reason all of this happened to me, all because he wanted to get me out of the picture. He’s a sick, evil bastard, and I want to kill him.
He’d deserve it after what he did to me. I was innocent, a decent person, despite what he thought of me. I was just living my life. And he ripped it to shreds. I’ll never be the same. I’ll never be the person I once could have been, because that person died in prison. I’m harder, angrier, quicker to blame. I want to be better, need to be better, but right now I want to let it all go and murder this man where he stands.
But I can’t. I know I can’t. Aside from the fact that we’re in public, and killing any man is wrong, this is Avery’s father, and Max's grandfather. In the end, she should decide what happens to him, not me. If I want any c
hance of being with her and Max, I need to accept that, no matter how much it hurts.
“You think me and Gavin had something to do with him?” Robert asks, astounded.
“Pretend all you want, dad, but we know. And we’re going to get justice.”
“You watch yourself,” he warns.
“No, dad. You watch yourself.” She walks away and gathers up Max. I stand there, facing him, staring him down.
“What do you want, trash?” he snaps at me.
I just smile at him. I don’t say a word. I turn around and walk away with Max and Avery, leaving him to stand there, stewing in his anger.
We head back upstairs in silence. Max wants breakfast, so Avery starts making him pancakes. I sit back and drink some coffee, watching the two of them, trying to make sense of what just happened.
When Avery’s done, she walks over to me and kisses me softly. “Thanks,” she says.
“For what?”
“For letting me handle that. I know it wasn’t easy.”
I grin at her. “What do you mean? I’m always in perfect control of my anger.”
She rolls her eyes. “Really. Thanks.”
“Of course.”
She kisses me softly again. “I’m glad you’re home.”
“I’m glad you’re home.” I pull her into my lap.
“Gross,” Max calls out. “Mommy, why are you in his lap?”
She laughs and kisses me, and for a second I forget all about the world outside. There’s just Avery and Max. They’re my world right now, my family, my everything. This is what I was supposed to have, before it was torn away from me.
But I can see it now. I can see that we might be able to have it again, if only we can move past this. I don’t know how, but I think we’re close. I think I can finally give it up and be happy.
24
Avery
Slick sighs and stretches his legs out. Luke’s leaning up against a tree, arms crossed in front of him, while Max plays on the swings nearby. Luke’s got an eye on him, and I can’t help but smile at that. He always had a father’s instinct.