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Wit hit the button, and the doors opened. “Oh, I know that. I’m an acquired taste, as you well know. I can make a person smile and drive them to their grave all in the same moment. It’s a God-given gift.”
The doors closed, and the elevator began to move. Ayelish played along with the light humor because anyone who knew Wit –– and she knew him well –– knew this was how he handled anxious moments and stressful situations. They were about to walk into the Lair where their colleagues were waiting and spill Wit’s harrowing past, which would be shocking to most.
Stepping off the elevator, they stood outside the Lair door and looked at the already worn and worried faces of their family and friends. It had been a trying day, and it was about to become more so. This was sure to stir up emotion in all of them and trigger their own pasts, given the lives they’d all led and things they’d experienced in their line of work.
“I’m real sorry,” Wit said as they entered, earning everyone’s attention. “I don’t mean just for how I reacted today. I mean, I really lost my shit. I’m sorry I put this on you, brought it here, and wanted to blame you when it didn’t look like it was going to end in my favor today.”
“You’re human, Wit,” Sheridan chimed in. “Your whole world was in limbo, and you couldn’t do anything to fix it. We’ve all been there in one way or another.”
“Yeah, but… this here’s all on me. Someone knows too much, and I brought them to our house.” He pulled out a chair for Ayelish and hesitated to take his seat. “I haven’t been entirely honest with y’all, and it wasn’t ill-intentioned or nothin’. I just thought I was protectin’ everyone. And protectin’ myself. I worry now that by not being more… forthcoming, I added to all this somehow.”
“Wit. You didn’t ask for any of this,” Ayelish said, gripping his hand. “You did nothing wrong.”
His eyes met hers, and he cupped her chin and smiled softly at her. “Thank you, darlin’, but I still brought this here somehow, and it’s up to me to help protect our family. Ourwholefamily.”
“I found a few things,” Killion jumped in. “I didn’t share with anyone but Cane. Before you unload, I have to say, it appears Ayelish is right. If what I found is even close to what I think it is… you were a victim. Even in your past.”
“Well, I can claim I was a victim, or I can claim I was a victor –– an overcomer. I much prefer that.” Wit nodded at Killion. “I hope y’all can understand that. I beat my demons, but it seems they aren’t done with me. The problem is… I don’t know which ones are here to play. That’s where y’all come in. This all comes with a trigger warning. If you need me to stop or need to step away, I understand.”
Wit looked at Ayelish, whose eyes were already welling with emotion ready to spill over.
“So…” Wit let out a deep sigh. “When I was young, ’bout knee high to a grasshopper, life was a bit messy. It started as…”
Wit went on to tell the team what he felt they needed to know. Not just for the case and potentially breaking it wide open, but so they’d know him. Who he really was and what made him… him. The room was still, quiet, and somber. Emotionless stares rounded the table as they each sat and listened to the disturbing details of Wit’s early life and what ultimately brought him to them.
As he went on, the group grew restless as they fought their own demons back and the discomfort that came with hearing Wit’s history. The very things he spoke of were the things that they fought and sought justice for. Anger washed over some, emotion over others, and some rose from their seats and paced as they listened, trying to control the fury anyone with an ounce of heart or soul would suddenly feel brewing, whether it be in the back of their mind or depths of their gut.
Heads buried in hands, bridges of noses were tightly pinched, and tears swept away from their faces. Swollen veins and quickened pulses seen in their necks all painted an emotional picture of anger met with a desire to save. To save others like Wit, to save him.
They sat for what felt like hours, listening to him tell a story that didn’t match what they were used to from him. There weren’t any punchlines, no mention of soup, and no ridiculous long drawls that ended in a yeehaw. Wit spoke of a person who didn’t match who they knew, which was either a testament to how far he’d come or how good he was at hiding and controlling his trauma.
“I know how hearing all of this must make this case look…” Wit said as he concluded his story. “I have the motive to take a thousand lives and an excuse to justify it in some people’s eyes. But I didn’t do this. I did not murder those people. They saved me and gave me a chance. Showed me what normal and healthy looked like. I didn’t hurt them.”
“We know,” Killion said, scanning the room and taking in the nodding heads as he spoke for them.
“I wish I knew why me, but that’s all I got. Someone who knew my connection to the Skrivers and maybe my current life pinned this on me. I don’t know who or why, but the truth and solution are buried somewhere there in my past… and now you know all of it.”
“Just curious,” Coy questioned. “All the stories about your mama and crazy family. Are any of them real?”
“Sure are. Just don’t all belong to me. It’s somethin’ kids like me do when you’re in a home or foster care. You tend to adopt the stories of others and create your own life or just make your stories sound a little more fun. There were good things buried in ugly. Uncles and aunts weren’t always real relations –– maybe a family friend or crazy neighbor. The Skrivers were my family, and that made their extended family mine too. They’re a big part of all that too.”
“Soup?” Ryker asked. “Where did the soup come from?”
“Ah. We ate a lot of that growin’ up, no matter where we were. Sometimes all ya had was potatoes, a couple of carrots, and if you were lucky, a leftover burger. I became a champ at making water a great tastin’ broth, and suddenly, all that salt and pepper made it feel like a real meal. I guess that’s why it’s comfort food.”
“I’m sorry.” Rip’s tone was nearly unrecognizable. Somber, yet emotional, and full of something none could put a finger on. Wit’s history hit some sort of chord with him, and it created a visible internal struggle. “I’m sorry you went through that. A kid… A kid shouldn’t have to learn life that way, and I’m sorry there wasn’t anyone like us out there to help you then. But we’re here now. And we’re going to make it as right as this thing can get.”
Rip typically gave Wit shit like it was his mission in life, so to hear this side of him ––this declaration –– took a toll on Wit, and he lost it.
“Thank you,” Wit choked out. “I appreciate you. All of y’all.”
“Shit.” Wit aggressively swiped away the mess of emotion from his face along with others. “Didn’t mean to make a hard day that much darker.”
He clapped his hands together and turned on a smile and his honky-tonk charm. “Where’re we at? Where do we start?”
The room followed suit, and everyone collected themselves in a manner that might not be considered entirely healthy. It quickly became business as usual, and the room hummed as each shared an idea.
“We’re about to get a clue,” Killion said, sharing his computer screen.
