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A smile spread across her sister’s face. “I will. Maybe we can watch a movie. I’ll be back.”
Sabrina walked out with more bounce to her step than she’d had in months.
Therapy wouldn’t work. One didn’t get a do-over because they talked about their problems, but if it made her sister happy, she would try it.
As for this whole Dad thing, well, that wouldn’t work either. It didn’t matter that she might have a father out there who’d wanted to know her. He was probably some uptight military guy who was as cold as her mom. She didn’t need more rigidness in her life. He would be in his sixties or maybe older. Likely he’d married some perfect military wife and they’d had a couple of kids who hated them, and they’d retired to a small town where everyone was miserable and nothing ever happened.
But if it made Sabrina happy, she might at least read the stuff she’d dug up.
Elisa sat back and opened the envelope.
Luthor Melvin Hughes.
Her dad. A normal name for a normal dude who would probably resent her for screwing up his normal life.
She sighed and started to read, picking up the sandwich because now she was kind of hungry.
* * * *
Sylvan Dean looked around the cell he found himself in and wondered if Hale would even have the cash to get him out. The rent on their tiny apartment had been paid last week, and that usually took most of what they had. Van wouldn’t get paid again until the end of his job.
Of course the real problem might be in Hale finding the will to bail him out.
His head ached, and it wasn’t even from a damn hangover. He’d sat up all night, his brain racing with absolutely every shitty thing that could possibly happen to him in here. His gut was rolling, and that wasn’t from a hangover either.
No. It was losing the fight he’d started.
Not started, exactly. That dude had started it when he’d put a hand on Melanie and then called her a slut who wanted it.
Unfortunately, according to the police officer, since that asshole hadn’t thrown the first punch, he wasn’t responsible for the assault. Van was, and no one seemed to care that Melanie hadn’t wanted to get groped. That had been completely ignored in favor of the cop arresting him.
To his left a guy who looked like he could murder the world was snoring, and Van hoped he could get out of here before the dude woke up because he was probably going to be cranky.
Damn it. He let his head sit back against the concrete wall, pure despair threatening.
He was twenty-seven years old and he had nothing to show for his life. Nothing. No real home. No formal primary education since his parents believed driving around the country in a motor home was education enough. No relationship that lasted more than a couple of months before something happened and he decided it was time to move on.
He wasn’t even living his father’s life since his father had a wife by this time and a couple of kids. He might have been roaming the continent, but he hadn’t been alone.
He had a lot of problems with his parents. They could be irresponsible, forgetful, easily changeable. What neither of them had was an arrest record, and Van was starting to have a nice one.
The door at the end of the hall opened and one of the police officers walked through. He was a tall man with a stern look on his face. Van put him at roughly fifty, and he walked with the force of long years of authority behind him.
Damn it. That wasn’t a mere officer. He was in charge of something, and that was bad for him.
“Sylvan Dean? What the fuck kind of name is that?” The officer had his hands in fists on his hips.
“The one my momma gave me. In her defense, she was likely under the influence of some kind of natural pain killer at the time.” He wasn’t good with authority figures. He might have been able to get out of the arrest in the first place if he hadn’t mouthed off.
He waited for the guy’s head to explode, but the lawman merely chuckled. “That would explain it. You have some powerful friends, Dean. I’m letting you out, and if you talk to your brother and agree to his terms, I’ll talk to Mark and get him to drop the charges. He’s my cousin, and he can be a complete dick when he gets drunk. I’m going to handle him and make sure he understands he can’t behave that way again. But he was not all of the problem. You’ve got issues, kid. I hope your brother can help you solve them.”
He did a double take inside. What had he said? His brother? He had several, and not a one of them knew where the hell he was.
