One Good Reason

by Sarah Mayberry

“So you can take him home and beat the shit out of him? I don’t think so.”

  “You are way out of line, asshole.”

  Jon moved closer, his hand curling into a fist. “I know exactly who and what you are, you pathetic weak-assed coward. I bet you’ve never picked on someone your own size in your life. I bet you specialize in women and children. I bet you get your rocks off proving what a big guy you are, smacking your kid around the house.”

  The other man’s face was mottled with fury. He dropped his son’s arm and pushed him away, squaring up to Jon, his fists raised.

  Jon made eye contact with the boy. “Go back to the playground where it’s safe.”

  The other man took his shot while Jon was distracted. The blow sent his head back on his neck. Pain blossomed along his jaw. He tasted blood in his mouth.

  He grinned at the other man. “Thanks. I was really hoping you were going to do that.”

  Then he moved in for the kill.

  AFTER FIXING HER MAKEUP, GABBY joined the group and did her best to look happy for Dino and Lucia. She watched Jon go outside with a couple of the guys and decided she wasn’t ready to talk to him yet. She needed to be clear about what she wanted, what she was prepared to accept. She was sitting with Lucia’s aunt and uncle when people started surging toward the exit. Gabby looked around, bemused, and spotted Lucia standing near the bar, her hand pressed to her mouth.

  Gabby crossed to her side. “Are you okay?”

  Lucia grabbed her arm. “Do you know where Tyler is? There’s a fight out there. Someone said something about it being one of our guys…”

  Gabby whirled on her heel and tried to see what was happening outside, but there were too many people gathered on the edge of the parking lot. A chill of prescience ran down her spine as she looked for Jon’s dark head and broad shoulders among them.

  She couldn’t see him.

  She thought about how angry and bleak he’d looked when she left him. Surely he wouldn’t have picked a fight with someone?

  She headed for the exit, her steps urgent as she made her way through the voyeurs hovering near the windows. Her high heels skidded on the stones outside and she took a second to catch her balance before pushing her way through the crowd.

  “Excuse me. Excuse me. Move!”

  She spotted a familiar back in the crowd and sidled up to Dino. “What’s happening?”

  He turned to her, his olive skin unusually pale. “Where’s Tyler? We need Tyler. Carl and Paul tried to get him off but he’s lost it—”

  Time seemed to slow as Gabby looked past his shoulder and saw that Jon had another man pressed against the side of a car, one big hand gripping the neck of his T-shirt while he pulled back his other arm for a punch. Kelly and Paul stood nearby looking helpless, while a small, brown-haired boy watched the fight with tears running down his face.

  “Jon!” she screamed.

  Jon punched the man, sending blood spraying across the car. The other man’s body flopped loosely and she had the sense that the only thing keeping him upright was Jon’s grip on his T-shirt.

  “Careful, Gabby!” Paul warned as she darted past.

  Gabby ignored him, her focus on Jon, on the arm he was positioning for another punishing blow. She lunged forward, grabbing his arm with both hands, her body slamming into his. She could feel the anger and adrenaline vibrating through him, could feel how hot his skin was, how tense his muscles.

  “Stop, Jon. Stop!”

  He stilled the moment he felt her touch, his head jerking around toward her. It took a moment for him to return from whatever dark, angry place he’d been lost in to focus on her face.

  “Let him go.”

  Sirens wailed in the distance. Jon hesitated, then dropped his arm, released the guy and stepped back.

  His opponent’s face was shiny with blood, his bottom lip split open, his nose possibly broken. He slid along the side of the car a few feet before he caught himself and lowered himself more slowly to the ground. A couple of people stepped forward to help him, but Gabby was too busy inspecting Jon to pay much attention.

  “Are you okay?” Her heart was pounding out of control as she scanned his face and body for injuries.

  “I’m fine.” Jon searched the crowd.

  Her hands trembled as she caught his chin so she could inspect the cut at the corner of his mouth and what she suspected was going to be a bruise on his right cheekbone. If anything had happened to him…

  He tried to pull away from her.

  “I can’t see him. Where is he?” At first she didn’t understand who he was talking about, then she remembered the little boy. She searched the crowd and spotted him talking with Lucia. The other woman crouched beside him, her arm around his thin shoulders.

  “Lucia’s got him. Dino’s wife. See? Over there. He’s okay, Jon.”

  He followed her pointing finger. “Someone needs to look after him. Make sure he’s okay.”

  He seemed disoriented. As though he was only just coming back down to earth.

  “Lucia’s got him. She’ll take care of him,” she repeated.

  A police cruiser flashed into the parking lot, stopping a few feet away. “He can’t go back there, Gabby.” Jon caught her hand and she saw that his knuckles were swollen and bleeding. “They can’t send him back there. Someone has to protect him.”

  She wrapped both her hands around his injured one. She didn’t understand why he was so concerned about the boy, but his distress was very real—she could feel him trembling with it.

  “He’s okay now.”

  Jon shook his head. “No, he’s not, you don’t understand. His father hits him. They can’t send him home with the man.”

  Understanding dawned on her.

  This wasn’t a random fight, some belligerent guy Jon had somehow tangled with.

  This was a rescue.

  She searched his face urgently. “How do you know that, Jon? How could you possibly know that?”

  “I know.”

  There was so much bleak knowledge in his eyes that she believed him, without a question of a doubt.

  “I’ll make sure the police know. I’ll call Child Protection myself. Whatever it takes.” She held his eye so he knew it was a promise.

  “Thank you.” His smile was relieved, grateful, infinitely sweet. “Thank you, Gabby. You’re so good and strong. I love you.”

  Tears filled her eyes. On what planet, in which lifetime had she thought she could walk away from this man? This amazing, amazing man who had put his body, his freedom, his future on the line in order to protect a little boy he didn’t even know?

  “I love you, too, Jon. So much.”

  He lifted a hand to touch her cheek, then he kissed her. She could see the police approaching out of the corner of her eye. She blinked away tears and lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles gently.

  “The police are here.”

  Jon took a deep breath, nodded. She squeezed his hand reassuringly.

  “You want to tell us what happened here, sir?” one of the policemen asked.

  Gabby kept a grip on Jon’s hand as he turned to face the music. They were in this together now.

  No matter what.

  THE NEXT FOUR HOURS PASSED IN a blur of anxiety and frustration. Both Jon and the other man, Ian Patterson, were taken into custody and driven away in separate police cars. Gabby followed Tyler and Ally to the local station, but by the time they’d arrived Jon had disappeared into the depths of the building and no one was willing or able to tell them what was going on.

  Tyler busied himself organizing a lawyer for his brother while Gabby called Child Protection to talk to them about Campbell Patterson, Ian’s son. She’d made a promise to Jon that Campbell would be taken care of, but even if she hadn’t there was no way she could turn her back on a child who was so obviously at risk.

  She learned that the best way forward was for her to make a notification of abuse, which would be anonymous in order to protect her from repercussions.
She was assured that a team from the organization would visit Campbell at home, either today or tomorrow, to investigate the situation. Dependent upon what the team found, charges could be laid, or Campbell might be removed from the house and taken to a close relative—kinship care—or into temporary foster accommodation. There would be a court hearing to sanction any decisions the team made, and if alcohol or drug abuse were suspected, Ian might be ordered to attend detox services or take anger management sessions.

  Gabby’s throat was hoarse by the time she’d finished talking with the social worker. She ended the call and rubbed her temples, hoping against hope that she’d done enough to ensure that Jon’s act of bravery had not been in vain.

  Ally passed her a bottle of water. “He’s in the system. He’s not an isolated little kid anymore.”

  “Plenty of kids still slip through the cracks, even if social services are looking out for them,” Gabby said.

  “So we follow up. We do whatever it takes.”

  Gabby nodded. Ally was right. This was the beginning of the fight, not the end.

  It was another hour before Jon was brought to the front desk. He looked tired, and the bruise on his cheekbone had turned an ugly purple-gray. Gabby shot to her feet the moment she saw him. She gripped her hands tightly together and waited impatiently while Jon signed his bail papers, the lawyer by his side. The moment he was finished, she crossed the waiting room and threw her arms around him. He hugged her tightly, his big hands splayed across her back, his head lowered so he could press his cheek to hers.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low.

  He was the one who had spent the past five hours in police custody and he was concerned about her feelings?

  “I love you,” she fiercely. “I love you, Jon Adamson.”

  His hold tightened and he turned his head to press a kiss to her cheek, then her lips. Finally, they broke apart. She could see the question in his eyes and she touched his arm reassuringly.

  “I’ve spoken to Child Protection. They’ll be investigating either today or tomorrow.”

  Some of the tightness left his face. “Okay.”

  Tyler and Ally were hovering toward the rear of the waiting area. Tyler came forward when Jon caught his eye.

  “Next time you want to be a hero, give me a call. I’d be happy to ride shotgun,” Tyler said.

  “You mean be charged as an accessory,” Jon said drily.

  “That, too.”

  Tyler clapped Jon on the back, but Gabby sensed that what he really wanted was to hug his brother. Their restraint and uncertainty with each other made her chest ache. She saw Ally blinking away tears, as well.

  She wasn’t the only one who wished things could be different between these two men.

  They discussed Jon’s police interview briefly and the lawyer informed them that based on his clean record and the mitigating circumstances, Jon would probably receive a good behavior bond. The lawyer promised to be in touch the moment he had further details.

  Together they walked out into the parking lot. Jon shook his head.

  “I can’t believe it’s still light out. I feel like a week has passed.”

  “I know,” Gabby said, reaching for his hand. She wove her fingers with his.

  “We should get something to eat,” Tyler said. “Why don’t you guys come to our place and we’ll grab some take-out?”

  Ally put her hand on her husband’s arm. “I think Jon and Gabby might want a bit of time alone.”

  Tyler looked nonplussed, as though the notion had never even occurred to him. “Right. Sure.”

  Gabby smiled. “We’ll see you tomorrow,” she said as she pulled her keys from her bag.

  During the drive home she filled Jon in on everything the Child Protection people had told her. Jon asked a few questions and she knew that he would be on to Child Protection first thing tomorrow, following up the situation.

  She and Jon were both silent as they rode the elevator to her floor. She glanced at him as they approached her door.

  “Are you hungry? I can manage an egg on toast. Or there’s breakfast cereal.”

  “They gave me a sandwich in lock-up.”

  “Very civilized of them.”

  “They were just doing their job.”

  She waited for him to precede her into the apartment. “They ought to give you a medal.”

  Jon rolled his shoulders as though he was trying to shrug off her words. “I didn’t do much. I did the bare minimum.”

  “That’s not true, Jon. You stepped up. Stopped that kid from getting another beating. You could have even saved his life.”

  They faced each other in her small entry hall.

  “Don’t make me out to be something that I’m not, Gabby.” He said it quietly, firmly. With utter conviction.

  Gabby watched him carefully. She didn’t want to push—not tonight when he’d already been through so much—but she wasn’t about to let this slip by.

  “You did a good thing today, Jon.”

  “It was one thing, and it doesn’t come even close to making up for all the times I did nothing.”

  Everything inside her went still at his words.

  “I’m not sure I understand what that means,” she said, but an idea was forming in her mind.

  It was so simple and so sad that it made her want to howl for this man.

  He walked into the living room, crossing to the bookcase. He picked up the windup monkey, fiddled with him for a few seconds. She followed him into the room but resisted the urge to go to him. This was hard enough for him and she understood that he wasn’t able to accept her comfort.

  Yet.

  “He used to hit us. When we were kids. Used to lay into us with his belt or whatever was on hand.”

  He was talking about his father, she knew.

  He glanced at her quickly before concentrating again on the toy in his hand.

  “One time he perforated Tyler’s eardrum. Nearly knocked the teeth out of his head he hit him so hard. Another time he locked him out of the house even though it was the middle of winter.” His hand closed tightly around the toy. “And I let him. I should have stepped in. But I didn’t.”

  While a part of her reeled, a clear-sighted part noted that Jon had said his father hit both him and Tyler. Yet he hadn’t mentioned any of his own injuries or punishments. It was all about Tyler. In Jon’s mind, his own suffering was so unimportant, so negligible, it didn’t even rate a mention.

  Jon looked at her, his face tight with strain.

  “That’s what my dream was about last night. Me standing by while Dad beat Tyler.” His lips curved into a parody of a smile. “Probably not what you wanted to hear. Not exactly noble hero stuff. But it’s the truth. And if it changes things between us…I get it.”

  His words hit her like a blow to the solar plexus.

  “Jon…”

  She crossed the room and threw her arms around him, holding him to her so tightly that her joints ached with the intensity of the embrace.

  “You were a kid,” she said, her voice choked with emotion. “A little kid.”

  He stood stiffly within her embrace. Unable to accept her love. Her understanding.

  “I was the eldest.”

  “You were a kid. Fourteen months older than Tyler. What chance did either of you have against a grown man?”

  “I should have at least tried,” he said doggedly.

  She loosened her hold so she could look him in the face. “He was your father. He was the one who was supposed to protect you from the world. You were a victim. Just like Tyler. You were kids. Both of you.”

  He stared at her. So much doubt in his eyes. So much guilt.

  “You’ve been carrying this around for years, haven’t you? My God.”

  She couldn’t stop the tears from welling. Angry tears, sad tears. She ached to think of how much he had punished himself because of what he perceived to be his crimes.

  His self-imposed distance from his broth
er. His exile to Canada. His refusal to let her—or, she suspected, anyone—close.

  “Don’t cry.” He cradled her face, his thumb sweeping across her cheek to catch her tears.

  “How can I not cry? You were a little boy, Jon. An innocent, defenseless little boy. You deserved love and protection. Instead you got violence and fear and you’ve been blaming yourself all these years, taking all that ugliness on yourself—” She gulped in a breath, everything in her wanting to make this right for him, to make him see. “That boy today. Campbell. If he has a brother at home, or a sister, would you blame him for not getting between them and his father? Would you think he was wrong or evil or weak?”

  “It’s different.”

  “Tell me how. Tell me how your situation was different.”

  Jon stared at her. She could see his mind working, could see him fighting to step back from beliefs he’d carried with him for a lifetime.

  “Have you ever talked to Tyler about any of this?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Jon shrugged, but the answer was in his eyes.

  “You’re afraid he’ll confirm it for you, aren’t you? That he’ll tell you it was your fault. That he blames you.”

  A muscle flickered in his jaw. She knew she was right.

  “Talk to him. Ask him. Because I guarantee that he is going to say the exact same thing I did.”

  Jon started to say something, but his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “You don’t know that.”

  Gabby searched for the one, perfect thing to say that would take away his pain. Nothing came to her. She suddenly understood that this wasn’t her battle to fight.

  She couldn’t do this for him. Nothing she could say would convince Jon that he deserved the same compassion and understanding that he’d offered Campbell Patterson today. He needed to unpack his own beliefs, sort through his own history. Reconfigure the past.

  And there was only one person who could help him do that.

  She spun away from him and grabbed her car keys. “Come on. We’re going to talk to your brother.”

  For a long moment he didn’t move. Then he put the toy on the bookshelf and walked past her to the door. It occurred to her as they pulled out of the underground garage that Tyler and Ally might not be home. She glanced at Jon. He was so tense and wound up she prayed that they were. He’d carried this burden for long enough. She wanted it gone tonight.