by Sand, A. J.
“The truth is, you are and have always been unwanted. You wasted your time trying to get me to notice you. All you’ve ever been is an annoyance to me. At least you were useful when you were earning me money at Perry’s. Could’ve been even more useful to me in Mexico. I figured I might as well use you if I had to deal with the fact that you were alive. But even that isn’t going to be a problem anymore.”
“You’re really going to kill me…” I say, almost laughing.
He shrugs. “The legend of Henry Chance will only grow in the end as I build an empire. It’ll make a good story eventually, won’t it? A great story. Only a god would be ruthless enough to kill his own son.”
“Please…don’t do it, Dad. Please, Dad. Don’t.” I hold my hands up. But he doesn’t speak again or flinch or hesitate. He just gets a better grip on the gun.
Then he pulls the trigger.
REDEMPTION SONG
Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.
“What the fuck…” Henry keeps pulling the trigger, mystified that my brain matter isn’t currently ruining his good shoes. Each time the gun clicks, his eyes widen in terror, which is ironic because I’m the one with the muzzle to my head (again). “It’s empty…” he whispers, looking at the gun like it’s an unknown object now.
I frown and shake my head. “Wow…really? You were going to kill me? Just like that? Holy shit, Drew was right. We expected you to go for the gun once you knew it was there and when you found out I knew everything, but I told her you’d have a change of heart along the way. Heh. You’re right about me. I’m sentimental as hell.” I stand up with a satisfied grin. “Just like my mom.”
Henry raises the gun again, still attempting to fire at me. “This was a goddamn setup.”
“Yup…” He’s too lost in his confusion to anticipate my punch, which sends him to the ground easily, and I put my foot on his shoulder to warn him that it’s better to stay down. “I’m a lot like my mother, but…it looks like I’ve got a little bit of you in me, too.”
My burner cell rings and I pull it out of my pocket. Drew. “Hey, baby…”
“Where are you?” she asks in a panic. “I’ve been calling for, like, an hour. It wasn’t even ringing!”
“No idea. This asshole was planning to kill me in the most remote place ever. I can send you the coordinates from my phone, though.” I text it to her and she arrives a little over an hour later.
“Jesus, with everything we’ve been through, I’ve been waiting for something to go wrong. I can’t believe he actually fell for this and it worked!”
I knew he would be too shocked to have a real plan when he saw me because he wasn’t expecting me. I also knew he didn’t have a weapon on him—thanks to Drew “suddenly” implementing a pat-down and search policy at Tickles for the safety of the girls— and I didn’t give him time to get one.
“I forced him to improvise. And the asshole was actually going to kill me. Again. He didn’t even have any second thoughts.”
“So you’ve got this all figured out, huh?” Henry says, smirking up at me, but it’s just thin bravado masking his defeat.
“I’m making a gamble,” I say, smirking back. “Like I said, I’m still your kid, like it or not. And here’s my biggest bet yet. I got a lot of what I know out of your business partner, Lincoln Voight, American ex-pat and old friend of yours—I’ve grown fond of calling him Mr. Also Missing Fingers. Well, Ramón got the info. You can probably tell by now that Alejandra’s dead. Ramón shot her in the head, like you wanted her to do to me. But I took her cell phone before he did whatever it is he did with her body. Now, no one except for a select few of us know she’s dead, but that could all change with an anonymous tip, and her bloody cell phone turning up at a Mexican police station, along with an eager-to-confess Lincoln Voight. Alejandra’s no two-bit criminal, and I’m sure some do-gooder cop is just looking to get a promotion and some commendations for breaking open such a huge case about human trafficking. Those two boys sweeping up at Murphy’s would love to talk about how you’re basically making them work for free while they train for your fights, I’m sure.”
“And you’re Alejandra’s American ties…” Drew says, chiming in. “Her business partner.”
“She’s hardly a business partner,” Henry says with a cocky look.
“But everyone’s seen her around Glory. You two know each other pretty well.” Drew yanks his cell phone out of his pocket. “You see, here’s how the story goes…maybe you two have been communicating through burner cell phones, but you’re worried now. You’re not thinking straight about which cell phone you’re using because Alejandra’s missing and you can’t find her, so you start calling…” Drew places a call from Henry’s phone. “…And sending her text messages…” She ends the call and types on the screen. “‘Where are you? Need to talk.’ Quick question, Mr. Chance. You’re a convicted felon, right? Out on parole? If you go back in, you do the time you have left on your original sentence for the violation and then whatever else they convict you of, right? Is that how it works?”
“What do you want? Money? I still have some of what you sent me,” Henry offers.
“Not really. And the truth is, I really want to avoid a huge international incident because it’ll drag too many people into it. Ramón Vega is trigger-happy enough to kill you, if there’s even a slight chance that this might blow back on him. So here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going back to Glory, and you’re going to tell your son how much you love him when we get there. You’ll read him a story and tuck him in. Then this gun is going in your car, and I’m calling the police to report your parole violation, because you can’t have a gun as a felon—”
“You son of a bitch.”
“You brought us to this dark place, remember that. I don’t mean here, either. I mean everything you put us through. If you think I feel even the slightest bit of sympathy for you when I know, if not for an empty gun, I’d be dead right now, you’re as crazy as Alejandra was. So, you’re going to confess that you’ve had this gun for a while. It’s not dirty from what Ramón told me, so it’ll only come back to you. Plead to whatever they throw at you and quietly go to prison. Don’t even think about bringing my name up. None of the wire transfers for the money were ever in my name, and anything I did in Mexico is only a crime in that jurisdiction. If you can actually prove I did anything other than go spend a few months there. I have friends who’ll cover for me. A lot of them who’ll say I went there because I was concerned about what you were up to when you showed up on my doorstep. Your word against mine. You should take the deal I’m offering. You didn’t underestimate how far I’d go for HJ before; don’t start doing it now. I know very bad people now because of you. Don’t underestimate me.”
“You want me out of my son’s life. You’re punishing him because I don’t love you?” His words sting a little, but Drew’s hand closes around mine.
“Punishing him?” she says, incredulous. “Punishing Henry Junior would be letting you stay in his life, knowing what you’re capable of, and your track record of using your sons to get ahead.” Her expression turns tender when she looks at me for a moment. “Mr. Chance, you’re actually freeing him, if you do this. You are freeing him from you. Give him a chance at a different life, one where he doesn’t have to carry the burden that comes with being your son anymore. It’s heavy and it’s painful and undeserved. Just do this one last thing and give him the opportunity to have a future he can chart out himself. It’s the least you can do.” She squeezes my hand. She’s talking about me, too.
“This isn’t about my revenge, Henry,” I say to him, “it’s about your redemption. Maybe your sentimental son, in spite of everything, thinks even you still deserve some.”
**One Year Later**
I’m at an impasse with an eleven-year-old, who isn’t showing any signs of breaking soon. Crossed arms, cold stare, and everything. “You’re really not going to talk to me?”
“No.”
“Why n
ot?”
“‘Cause I don’t want you to go.”
“I know. You’ll see me soon, though, buddy, remember? We made plans. I put those dates in my calendar. Told Siri to remind me.”
But HJ’s not buying it. We’ve been standing in the driveway of the Chance house for twenty minutes, and he’s still frowning. It’s breaking my heart and I might actually change my mind about leaving, but then Drew slips her arm around my waist, and I remember why I am. I lean forward until HJ and I are eye-to-eye, and I’m determined to get a laugh or smile out of him. “What did I tell you?”
“You tell me a lot of stuff, Jesse…” HJ takes off the cap I gave him and folds the bill.
I snicker. “Okay, wise guy. What do I always tell you? What’s our thing?”
“Whoa…the Chance boys have a thing?” Drew asks. “Since when?”
“Tell her…” I urge him. “What do I always tell you?”
“Come on, tell me!” Drew asks.
Finally, the kid smiles. “Fine.”
“Oh. I see. A pretty girl gets you to talk?” Apparently, I’m not the only Chance who has a weakness for Drew Hallisay.
His smile gets wider as his cheeks light up red. “You always tell me I’m your family.”
“And?”
“And you love me…”
“And?”
“And no matter where I am, and no matter where you are, both those things will always be true.”
“Good. Now give me a hug and go help your mom get dinner ready.”
“Okay!” HJ flings his arms around my waist, and even though my heart is melting into Hallmark gooeyness, I try to keep it together in front of my girl. He hugs Drew next before he dashes up the sidewalk.
“You’re pretty hot when you’re being sweet to your kid brother.” She waits for HJ to go into the house before she gives me a little tongue. “And why don’t we have a thing?”
“We have lots of things, baby. I really like the things we have.” I nuzzle her neck. Like each other. While true, that’s cheesy. So I don’t say it out loud.
“Hey, you two,” Barbara Chance calls out when she walks onto the stoop, “do you guys want lemonade or iced tea?”
“Lemonade for me,” I say.
“Iced tea with lots of sugar,” Drew says.
“Great! Because I made both,” Barbara says. She wipes her hands on her red apron. “Ready to eat?”
“Yes. We’ve been going to Tickles all week for lunch and dinner. I’m so ready for home cooked,” Drew says as I take her hand and we go into the house. I’ve been coming here every day to hang out with my brother since I moved to Renshaw after graduation. I don’t think I’ll ever be completely comfortable in this house, but it has a different aura about it these days with Henry gone. It doesn’t hold the same meaning it did before.
Barbara invited Drew and me over for one last sit-down dinner before the two of us head to Louisiana tomorrow. It took us a long time to get to this point. We both still think and talk about what happened in Mexico, and it helps us deal with it, but we’re finally in the position to start fresh. I got into grad school for architecture in Baton Rouge, and Drew landed a temporary job (but it’s potentially permanent, as she likes to remind me) with the state’s preservation society. We don’t have much of the fight money left because we’ve been spending it, but we gave some to Barbara and anonymously to an organization that helps combat human trafficking. We also (anonymously) wrote them about the boys at Murphy’s and Alejandra’s work in Mexico. I’m actually looking forward to the money running out completely.
Barbara feeds us like a mom does, which means she cooked like we are actually starving. I can’t complain, though; It’s all delicious. Mashed potatoes, ribs, string beans (HJ is not a fan until I start eating mine), corn on the cob, glazed ham, and rice pilaf. She even sticks leftovers in Tupperware containers for us to take on the road.
A few hours after she has stuffed us silly, I’m sitting in the middle of Drew and HJ on the couch. They’re both deep in food comas in front of a Spongebob Squarepants marathon, and I’m still watching and not understanding why HJ loves this shit, when Barbara pops her head in from the dining room.
“Can we talk a sec?” she asks quietly, and she gestures with her glass of wine for me to follow her into the kitchen. My heart clenches when I stand up. Our relationship, which didn’t exist before at all, is still awkward, but we’re finding our way.
“What’s up? You’re not about to make me eat again, are you?” I joke.
She laughs. “No. That’s tomorrow morning. You and Drew are staying here tonight, right?”
“Yup. Of course. I want to see him in the morning before we go.”
She beams. “Oh, good. He adores you so much. Did you see his room? He built a pillow and blanket fort. He says it’s for the two of you, but Drew can come, too, if she wants. His words, not mine. He’s been telling all his friends how he’s going to Louisiana to see his brother in a few weeks. Are you sure you don’t mind keeping him the whole summer, Jesse? With kids, they only look cute. The novelty wears off. Fast.” She laughs.
“I’m looking forward to it. Bonding and baseball. It’ll be fun. I’m just glad you agreed.”
“Of course.” She stares at the tile floor for a moment. “You know, I was always taught to stand by your man, and that marriage was forever. I don’t have to do that anymore, so I need the time, too, to figure out who I am without Henry.” I understand that completely. “I also need to confess something…if you and I are to go forward as…friends.” She downs her wine like it’s water. “I used to wish bad on you and Carla. Every day. Like a prayer. It was the first thing I’d think in the morning. I didn’t wish for the health and happiness of my children; I wished the worst kinds of things on you and your mom instead. I feel horrible admitting as a mother that I would do that to another mother. And a child. You were just a child. But I did. For years. I led the cause in treating her like an outcast around here. I withheld my friendship from people who associated with her and even people whose kids were your friends. I spread gossip and hateful things. I would confront her in the grocery store or on the street. I was a bully. A bitter, mean bully. It’s not like I didn’t know what Henry was doing with other women, but I couldn’t live in denial anymore because she got pregnant. I was resentful.” She wipes tears from her eyes. “And look at you…you’re the one who risked everything for my little baby, even though it was all based on a lie. You put yourself on the line. After everything.”
“And I’d do it again, Barbara. I’ll do it anytime.”
“I know. You’re such a sweet boy, Jesse.” She’s barely able to form a smile as more tears well up. “Carla was, too. To raise someone like you, she had to have been. She just made an awful mistake. She tried to apologize, you know, after you were born. I just wouldn’t hear it. She tried again some years ago, and I was still being a hateful bitch. She didn’t want to be friends, just civil. She wanted you to have a relationship with my kids. Especially HJ. And I refused.”
“You were angry. You had a right to be.”
She nods and exhales. “I was angry. For a long time. But I went to see her a few times after she got sick.” Barbara leans closer and whispers, “We got high.”
“What?” I ask as we both burst out laughing.
She shrugs, smiling without a trace of remorse. “I heard marijuana helps with pain…well, really, it helps with everything.” She chuckles. “Divorces, too.”
“She never told me you were visiting…”
“I guess because it was just between us. We cried and talked and apologized to each other. I needed her to know that while I had every right to be upset, I didn’t have a right to mistreat either of you. I was unkind to you and her for years. I had no idea I could even be that malicious of a person. So, I’m sorry, Jesse. For everything. You didn’t ask to be born, and you certainly didn’t ask to come into the world the way you did. You were completely blameless in all of this.”
&
nbsp; “It’s behind us,” I say, meaning it, but still appreciative of our conversation.
“Thank you. I’m so glad and grateful I have you. I’m so glad HJ has you.”
“Me too. Does he ask about Henry?”
“Of course. But I don’t regret giving you my blessing to get him back into prison. I used to worry about what it was going to do to HJ in the long run, but then I remembered what he would’ve done to him in the long run. We’ll get through it. I’m telling him as much of the truth as he can handle. I don’t want him overwhelmed.”
“I get it. And maybe he needs a change of scenery. Might be good for the two of you. This place has a way of shackling you to your past.”
“Very true. Leaving is the plan, eventually. Thanks to the money.” She touches my arm lightly. “I think you should stop holding on to him, too. Your mom, ever hopeful, ever optimistic, admitted to me that one of her biggest regrets was not moving far away from here. She said it was because she didn’t ever want you to think that she was ashamed of you, and she thought running away would be the message you took out of it. And she thought he would come around, eventually. Carla thought he would want you. Even she realized at some point that you were probably better off. We’re all better off.”
“I know. I’m letting him go, Barbara. Everything really changed for me in the woods. Even when I found out everything, I still held out hope that somewhere inside, he had some sort of goodness in him. Even if it was just one tiny bit, but I saw right then just how little I meant to him. How little anyone who isn’t Henry Chance means to him. I had to face it and accept it. My father doesn’t see me as a person. Just a burden.” I sigh. “I’m not sure he’s actually capable of loving anyone, but either way, you can’t force people to love you.”