AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Fallen cop found dead in cell.
Disgraced cop dead from hanging.
The details described a suicide watch. They must not have watched him very carefully, since he’d done it with a sheet.
I thought about the last time I’d seen him. My high school graduation night, I’d come home from the ceremony to change for a party. He hadn’t been there. A shift had kept him from attending. I’d told myself I didn’t care. His work was more important than seeing me walk across the stage. He was uncomfortable with formal ceremonies. All the excuses I could think of didn’t keep me from knowing, deep down, the truth. He was not interested in seeing me do much of anything, even graduate.
I was surprised to see him in the kitchen. He had a whiskey bottle open on the table alongside a bag of pork rinds. Disgusting. He stood with his back against the counter and raised his glass when I came in. “To the graduate.”
“What are you doing home? I thought you worked tonight?”
“I was sent home.”
“Why?” My mouth fell open. Sent home? What did that mean?
“Some bullshit thing about excessive force, son.” He rubbed a hand over his closely cropped hair. Lately, I’d noticed the crevices on the sides of his mouth had deepened and his hair was starting to turn more and more silver. When he was like this, drunk and sour, he seemed older than his forty-five years. “They want us to act like little girls. Like pansies. And treat criminals like they should be at a resort instead of jail where they belong. The world’s all upside down, kid.” He stared blankly at the wall behind me. “Sometimes it seems like I don’t fit anywhere anymore.”
I gritted my teeth. What should I say that wouldn’t make him mad? In this kind of mood, he was feeling sorry for himself and appeared cowed and docile, but I knew that he could change in a split second. Anger was still his favorite gear.
“What? Got nothing to say? You too good for me now? You’re always siding with the rest of them, aren’t you?”
“The rest of them?” Who was that exactly? I could decide all on my own that I hated him and feared him and wished he was different and loved him too. That was the thing. No matter what he did, he was still my father.
No sooner than I’d had that thought than he threw his glass against the wall about a foot from my head. Then he lunged at me, putting his hands at my collar and shoving me against the wall hard enough to knock the wind out of me.
“You think you’re better than me, don’t you?”
“No, sir. I do not.” I could barely speak. The palm of his hand pressed into my neck. My Adam’s apple throbbed against the force. He put his whole body into it, as they’d taught us at football practices. Commit to it, they’d said. My father knew how to hunker right into it.
His eyes had the glazed, enraged look they got when he was just about to start hitting my face. I’d wanted to go to the party, but I wouldn’t be able to if my face was all banged up and bloody. I braced myself as the first punch came, knocking my head against the wall with the force of his fist to my chin. The second blow was to my nose.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a movement outside the windows. Rob. He was here to pick me up for the party in his new car. Why had I agreed? Now he would see the truth.
My father jumped away from me. I wiped under my nose. Blood was everywhere.
Rob, outside the window of the kitchen door, seemed frozen in shock. I’d never told anyone what my father did to me. Not even Rob.
Without another word, my dad picked up his whiskey bottle and left the room.
That night, after Rob helped me get cleaned up at his house and lent me a new shirt, I told him how bad it was and that it had gotten worse. He’d offered his house for the summer. His parents were hardly ever there. We could have a summer of parties before we left for college.
Now, as I sat here, remembering that night, it occurred to me that Rob’s behavior that night had been one of the reasons I overlooked so much of his poor behavior. He’d been supportive and considerate. I’d cried at the beach party and he’d been kind to me.
I didn’t move in with him that summer, but I did leave my father’s house the next day. I left him a note, saying I would not be back. I’d earned a scholarship for college. I didn’t need him for anything. And that day had felt like the first day I’d ever felt freedom. I never had to see him again. He could no longer hurt me.
But he did hurt me. Memories last longer than bruises. All these years, I’d been running from those memories, trying to build a new life for myself based on love and good work.You’ve done that, I told myself.You made your own way.
If only Jamie could find her way out of her past, her memories, and see that I was right here in front of her offering her everything I could possibly give her. My heart.
But she didn’t want me. Or she was too afraid. Either way, I was alone on the night of my father’s death. Trying to make sense of my life and what to do next, just as I’d always done.
20
JAMIE
Icouldn’t believe what I was seeing on television. Darby’s father had died in prison. Before I could fully absorb what had happened, my phone rang.Stormi. She would be calling to see if I’d seen the news yet. Concerned, obviously. I didn’t pick up, though. I couldn’t trust myself to talk and not completely lose it.
Instead, I sent her a quick text to tell her I couldn’t talk but would call her later.And yes, I saw the news.
