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53
Charlotte
Jayce and I rode in the back of a police cruiser, holding hands along the way. I didn’t want to let go of him, and he seemed to feel the same.
“It started three weeks ago, when you first got charged,” my dad explained from the front passenger seat. “I was calling around to all my contacts to see if we could pull some strings and, you know, get some leniency for you. But everyone said to avoid Eastland like the plague. That messing around with the local politics here was a good way to get killed.”
“So you decided to round up a posse and do just that?” Jayce said. I couldn’t tell if he was incredulous or impressed. Maybe both.
“Not at first,” my dad said. “This was all information gathering. I couldn’t believe all of these police officers and sheriffs were afraid of a single town! But there was one theme across everyone I talked to: they wanted to see something done about Sid and his gang, and wanted to be part of it. They just needed the numbers to actually take on the Copperheads. Once I started organizing everyone…” He shrugged. “A closed fist is stronger than a bunch of individual fingers.”
“Your father is a brave man,” the policewoman driving the cruiser said. “None of us would’ve stood up to Sid without his coordination.”
“I’m just a small town sheriff,” my dad said, but I could see him blushing.
We pulled up to the sheriff’s office, which was now a hive of activity. At least twenty cruisers were parked outside, with twice as many police officers walking in and out with handcuffed Copperheads. The biker gang was being held temporarily in the jail cells, and brought outside for individual questioning. In a ring around the outside were at least two dozen Eastland citizens watching with smiles on their faces.
We got out, and the other cruiser that pulled up next to ours opened up to reveal Sid. His face was a gruesome mess of red, but his white teeth smiled through it all. Two officers dragged him out and made the walk up into the sheriff’s office. One officer started clapping, then another. Within seconds, all the police officers and Eastland citizens were applauding the arrest of the leader of the Copperheads.
“Pretty good day,” I said.
Jayce wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Not all good.”
He was staring off to the back-side of the sheriff’s office. In a neat row on the grass were at least twenty body bags. The dead from today.
“Four are badges,” my dad said grimly.
A nearby officer nodded. “They’ll be happy to have given their lives to ending Sid’s power. All of us from the surrounding counties can finally sleep at night knowing the Copperheads are done.”
Dad went inside to talk to some of the coordinators. Jayce accepted medical care for his wounded shoulder, and then he and I walked a block away to the bench outside the community center and sat down. Even though we were only fifty feet from the activity, it felt like we had a little bit of privacy.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the community service?” I asked.
He stared off at nothing with a thoughtful gleam in his eyes. “You would’ve been mad at me.”
“You’re afraid of my anger, huh?”
“Damn right I am!” he said. “You’d been trying to convince me to leave town, but there were two reasons I couldn’t. One, because of my hate for Sid.”
“And the second?” I asked.
He patted my knee without meeting my gaze. “The love of a beautiful woman.”
“So let me get this straight,” I said. “You stayed near me, even though you knew it might endanger my life if Sid found out?”
“Love can be real fucking stupid sometimes, Peaches.”
I laughed. He was totally right. “I didn’t exactly act in my own best interests,” I admitted. “Mindy warned me to stay away from you the first time I ate in her diner. You told me not to get attached to you, too. But I couldn’t stop myself.”
He took my hand and squeezed it. “We’re a couple of idiots.”
“But at least we’re idiots together,” I said.
“Idiots are better in pairs,” he agreed.
“Speaking of idiotic things…” I said.
Jayce looked at me, not understanding. Then his eyes softened. “The money?”
