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I turn my key in the lock and walk in. It’s ten o’clock on a Sunday morning and I know dad is home.
“Ronnie, is that you? Didn’t expect you home this early.” He comes around the corner from the living room, smiling and holding his cup of coffee. He stops abruptly when he sees me holding tightly to Sawyer’s hand.
“Hey Dad,” I say in a weak whisper. I try to let go of Sawyer’s grip, but he doesn’t turn loose.
“Hello, Mr. Hester.” He drags me forward, closer to my dad. He holds out his hand awkwardly. “My name is Sawyer Rodriquez. I’m a friend of Veronica’s.”
My dad raises an eyebrow and turns to me with an expression of confusion. He shakes Sawyer’s hand. He says, “Let’s go into the living room. I get the impression that I’m missing something important here.” His glance lingers on our joined hands. My face flushes. My dad rarely misses anything.
We sit down on the couch and my dad takes his usual spot on his brown recliner. Mom threatened for years to throw that thing out and never did.
“So, I take it from the fact that you’re here bringing my girl home means that there weren’t just girls on this trip?” He cuts his eyes to me. His lips are thin and he’s gripping the arms of the recliner.
I look down at my feet. “Yes dad, I lied to you. I’m not proud of myself. But something happened last night that I’m really upset about.” I slowly remove the scarf tied around my neck. Today my neck is a kaleidoscope of colors. The bruising is very noticeable, and the marks are in stark contrast to my pale skin.
“What the hell happened?” My dad roars. He jumps up from his chair and glares at Sawyer. “Did you do this to my daughter?”
Sawyer stands up and they are mere inches apart. “I can promise you I didn’t, but my cousin did. I’m very ashamed of that.”
I put a hand on my dad’s arm to calm him. He’s shaking with rage. “It wasn’t Sawyer, Dad. He’s the one who saved me. I don’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t been there.”
He gazes down at me and his eyes soften a bit. “Baby girl, what happened to you? Who hurt you?”
My voice shakes as I tell him the story of the night before. He sits down next to me on the couch and holds my hand as I tell him what happened. I stare down at our joined hands and fumble over parts. Sawyer doesn’t say anything, but calmly sits on my other side. From the corner of my eye, I can see his hands clench when I get to the part of Brad unbuttoning my pants. I sit there for a moment after finishing the story. There is total quiet. I rush to fill it.
“I’m so sorry I lied to you. I know some of this is my fault…”
Dad doesn’t let me get any further. He grips my chin and forces me to look up at him. “Baby girl, you shouldn’t have lied to me, but that doesn’t excuse anything that sorry piece of shit did.” I blink at his harsh tone of voice and the curse words. My dad doesn’t curse…ever.
“Exactly what I think, Mr. Hester. And I think we need to make sure my cousin doesn’t do this to anyone else.” Sawyer’s stern voice comes from my other side.
My dad stands anxiously. I watch him pace for a moment. “Yes, I think we need to make sure this asshole gets exactly what’s coming to him. Ronnie, are you good enough to go down to the police station now? We need to get started, but I don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”
Sawyer stands and holds his hand out to me. “Ronnie can do anything she sets her mind out to do.” His eyes are full of caring and concern as he pulls me to my feet.
“Yes, I can do this.” With Sawyer holding tightly to my hand on one side and my dad on the other, it does feel like I can do anything.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I became a police officer with the idea of fighting for the good guy. It wasn’t long before I realized the good guys and the bad guys don’t come with a label. Hell, if I know which is which anymore. -Sheriff Bud Taylor
Ronnie
The day passes by in a blur of interviews and pictures. They take pictures of everything, from my neck to my legs, to note any kind of injury that occurred from Brad’s attack. From what I understand, Sheriff Taylor knows Brad’s family, but he seems nice enough. When they first shake hands, there’s a look that I can’t identify that passes between Sawyer and Sheriff Taylor. I suspect they know each other pretty well, but nothing is said.
The sheriff winces as he takes a look at my neck. He takes Sawyer’s statement, and calls Dax to come in.
Dax seems ill at ease to be in a police station, but after what Sawyer told me about Lily, I know he wants Brad to pay as much as we all do. Dax tells us that Brad is up and moving. Apparently, he rushed to explain away everything once he regained consciousness. He still has a black eye and a split lip, but he’ll recover. Dax left early this morning after he found a ride. He gives me a small hug when he sees me and tells me everything will be okay. I give him a kiss on the cheek and thank him for everything. He’s a good guy. I know that all of this may cause trouble at school for him.
Sheriff Bud Taylor sits down with Sawyer, Dad, and I after the interviews. He’s got a sweet, grandfatherly face. Gray wisps of hair frame his round countenance. He sighs like he’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders and I squirm in my seat. I don’t think he’s going to have good news for us.
“So, I’ll get right to it, folks. I’m not sure how easy it will be to make Bradley face consequences.”
My dad erupts. “After what he did to her, the marks he made on her, nothing is going to happen to him? This is bullshit!” He stands up and starts pacing around the office. I’m a little afraid this whole incident has pushed my mild-mannered father into early heart attack territory.
“Now, now, Mr. Hester. I didn’t say that he wouldn’t face anything. Just because the charges probably won’t stick, doesn’t mean he still won’t face some kind of consequences.” He leans back in his chair and clasps his hands behind his head. His portly stomach stretches his uniform so tight that I think one of the little buttons might pop.
I feel sick. I knew anything happening to Brad would be a long shot, but it’s still hard to hear.
