Havoc Page 15

  I freeze when I see headlights in the distance. Glancing at the clock, I know Holden hasn’t had time to make it over here, not unless he was speeding and had blue lights flashing. Since I see no flashing lights, I’m pretty positive this is someone else, and immediately I’m nervous. I don’t know where these nerves come from, I’m unsure why my stomach is tightening and I get a thickening in my throat. I’m working myself up to a damn panic attack. Gripping my steering wheel, I hope like hell they’re gonna drive right by, but they don’t. Instead they park in front of me, and as the person gets out, my breath catches. It’s the last person I want to see, the last person I expect to see. My dad.

  He’s walking to the car, the same way he does everything else, without a care in the world. I reach down to make sure the locks are engaged and try to tell myself he wouldn’t hurt his own daughter. I’m aware of how much a lie that is, though. He’s tough. He sent me to jail once and I’m sure he can make it where nobody would ever be able to find my body, if he chose to do so.

  “You need help, girl?” he calls out as he makes his way over to me.

  I’ve rolled my window down just enough to hear him. “No, my husband is on his way.”

  He rolls his eyes, putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Your husband?”

  “Yeah, I know you heard we got married. It’s been the talk of the town since it happened.”

  Once he reaches the driver’s side door, he puts his hands on the top of the car and leans down. For the first time in over a year, I get a good look at his face. Jefferson Strather has aged years in that time. Dad’s always been a good-looking guy, it’s where Brooks got his looks from, and he’s always used it to his advantage. But from where I’m sitting, those looks are gone. He’s got lines on his face, and a deadness to his gaze. “I can help you, I’m your dad.”

  I’ve been taken in by that excuse so many times I can’t even laugh about it anymore. Most girls would call their dad, they’d call him and ask him to come help and nothing would be expected in return. Not mine. He’d want me to do something to hurt Holden, and I won’t do that. Lately I’ve been starting to think of our marriage as real. I’ve been feeling things for him, I’ve never felt before. Even if I’m unsure of it, I know I’ll never betray him for my dad. “I don’t need it; my husband will be here in a few minutes.”

  That pisses him off.

  “As fucking stuck up as your mother. Never wanting to take the help that’s thrown your way. You’ve always been like her, never wanted to have anything to do with me,” he sneers.

  My hands shake, so I keep them on the steering wheel, gripping it tightly so he can’t see in the dim lights of the dashboard. “Stop talking about her like that.”

  “You never knew her, Leighton. Why does it bother you how I talk about her?”

  I’ve never talked back to him, not really, and I’ve never expressed how I feel when it comes to what he’s said to me. I’m nervous, scared as hell he’s going to strike out at me before Holden can get here, but I also know I’m sick to death of not standing up for myself. “Because she’s not here to defend herself.”

  “That’s right, she’s not, and you know why?”

  Setting my jaw, I’m determined not to rise to his bait. He does this to me every time.

  “Because of you Leighton, she couldn’t deal because of you. You and Brooks were such bad kids she had to go away, and she never came back. How do you even live with yourself, little girl? Don’t you have any guilt that you broke up a happy family?”

  All my life I’ve heard this, and I’ve tried to be a good daughter – I have. I’ve done everything this man and my grandfather have asked me to do. Purposely I’ve never caused any trouble. The only things I’ve ever done that went against their wishes or surprised the hell out of them was go to college one semester and marry Holden. I’ll never take any of that back either, I swear to God I’ll never take it back. Marrying Holden was the best decision I ever made. Listening to this man, I’m reminded quickly of why I wanted to get out so badly.

  “It wasn’t me,” I fight back, feeling the backbone Holden’s helped me find. In the time we’ve been together he’s shown me how to stand up for myself, how to not back down when I know I’m right. “It couldn’t have been me,” I argue. “I found her diary, Dad, and my baby book. Before I left for Birmingham. She wanted us. She loved us. What she didn’t love was how you treated her. What she wanted more than me was to get out from under your thumb and the stigma of being a part of the family. If anything, you snuffed her out.”

  “You didn’t know her!” he screams at me.

  “Because you ran her off before I got a chance to!” I scream back at him. Tears are pooling behind my lids because this is what happens when I get upset. My emotions come out, and I cry. “If anyone is to blame for the things that have happened to our family, it’s you. Brooks is in jail because you didn’t raise him to respect authority and to care about anyone other than himself. Grandpa is frail and sick because you didn’t think it was worth it to make sure he saw doctors and have good food on a regular basis. I’m gone because you couldn’t keep your fists off me. Look around you, Jefferson.” I call him by his first name, hoping it strikes a blow. When I see that it does, I’m happy and I try not to realize how much that makes me like him. “You’re alone because you’re a miserable excuse for a human being, and you have no one to blame for that but yourself.”

  I’m breathing heavily, like I’ve run a marathon. I’ve never stood up to him like this before, never felt like I had the courage to. This is what Holden does for me, this is the woman he makes me.

  He rages loudly, shouting as he tries to open my door. The handle doesn’t allow him too, because I’ve locked it. Immediately I’m trying to calculate how far I can go on a blown tire, how badly I’ll hurt my car, and maybe how much time I have to stall until Holden can get here. It’s then I see more headlights in the distance of my rearview. I pray to God it’s Holden.

  “You wait until they pass by. Once they do, I’m going to show you what happens to smart mouth little bitches like you.”

  I shiver and mentally start taking inventory of what’s in this car. What can I use as a weapon? What can I defend myself with? He’s bigger than me, and I know he’ll take me easily if he wants to. When the lights pull in behind me, I thank God, and I want to cry because I’m so relieved.

  “Can I help you, Jefferson?”

  I hear my husband’s voice and I want to shout a hallelujah to the sky.

  “Just stopping to see if my daughter needed any help. Noticed she was parked on the side of the road as I drove by.” Dad sticks his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his boots.

  “I suggest you put your hands where I can see them unless you want me to fire a warning shot.”

  “You’d shoot an unarmed man, officer?” Dad cajoles him, in the snarky way he hates for others to do to him.

  “I’d shoot any man I thought would hurt me or mine, and what’s in that car is mine, make no mistake about it.”

  I’m looking back in my rearview, seeing Holden with a gun trained on my dad. Holden’s hand doesn’t waver, it doesn’t shake, and he doesn’t look at all scared by the man standing in front of him.

  “I think you should leave.”

  Dad takes one look at him, and then another look at me before he holds his hands up in mock surrender. He backs away to his truck, gets in, and kicks up gravel and dust as he leaves. Holden and I both wait a good five minutes before he holsters his gun, has me unlock the doors, and gets me out of the car.

  “Are you okay?” He puts his arms out and I collapse into them.

  Since the day I left home, I’ve been scared to death I would come face-to-face with my dad, and I never wanted it to be on a dimly lit backroad with no one around to help me. “I’m good now. He scared me.”

  Using his hands, he cups my jaw, tilting my face up so he can look at me. “What did he say to you? Did he threaten you?”

&n
bsp; Right now, all I want is to go home and sleep in his arms, forget what’s turned into a shitty night, but I know he won’t let me. “It’s the same old stuff he always says to me. I made Mom leave, and I’m a horrible person. It just upsets me. I think more than anything, he thinks I’ve told people about what he’s doing.”

  That’s a spot of contention between us; I refuse to talk about my dad’s operation with Holden. I guess I feel like I’m protecting Holden for once. If he doesn’t know, he can’t be hurt. I realize it’s also flawed logic, because what he doesn’t know could probably kill him, but I have to do what I see as best.

  “C’mon, let’s get you in the truck and lock up the car. I don’t like being out in the open like this.”

  I agree, I hate being out in the open as well, and I notice he’s taken his gun back out. I let him drag me away from the car and put me in his truck. Before he closes the door, he pulls me close. “There’s another small gun in the console. Anything happens, take it out and fire it. Don’t ask questions, those can come later. This place has got me feeling on edge.”

  It has me feeling on edge too, but I don’t say anything. I only nod, trying to look out into the darkness as he makes his way back to my car. I watch as he gets my purse and keys out. Locking it up, he jogs back to his truck and quickly gets in.

  Once we’re both inside the cab, I can breathe again. “Let’s go home.” I entwine his fingers with mine, as he heads for our house.

  Neither one of us talk anymore about what happened, but when we go to bed, I migrate over to his side and fall asleep with his arms wrapped tightly around me. For once I’m not sure if it’s for his sake, or mine.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Leighton

  I’ve struggled with doing this for months, not sure if I should, but scared of what happens to me as a person if I don’t. It’s been almost a year since Brooks was put behind bars. A year since I’ve seen the person I once considered my best friend. This has been heavy on my heart though since I saw my dad on the side of the road.

  I’ve missed him more than I can say. I don’t miss the Brooks who hit Trevor, I miss the brother I know, the one no one else got to see. He was kind to me, even when he was an asshole to others. He supported me going to Birmingham, and there were nights we’d talk about what we’d do if we ever got away from our Dad. That’s the Brooks I miss. When I see Trevor and Whitney together, I miss the relationship I had with him before everything went sour. Before my dad got hold of him and turned him into the person he is now.

  “I’m here to see Brooks Strather,” I say quietly to the person behind the sign in desk at the state penitentiary where my brother is being held. Holden has pulled some strings for me, and I’ll be allowed to actually be in a room with him.

  “Name and ID,” the receptionist holds out her hand.

  “Leighton Thompson. I’m his sister.”

  I’m nervous as I wait for her to make a copy of my ID, run my name, and then finally hand me a badge. “Go to that door,” she points down the hall to the left. “The officer will take you to the room, and they’ll bring the prisoner to you.”

  I flinch as I hear the term prisoner. It still bothers me that’s the term my brother will be known by for the rest of his life. No matter what he does, he’ll always be the guy who almost killed Trevor Trumbolt and showed no remorse. My heart hurts because I know that isn’t him; he’s been colored by his environment and wasn’t able to shake the influence. In a way, I feel as if I’ve failed him. If I had been a better sister, maybe I could have helped him. I could have given him the female influence he so desperately needed after our mother left. I so wish I could go back and change things. He deserved a chance at a better life; he should be at college right now, living it up as a frat boy.

  “Hello, Mrs. Thompson, I’ll take you to your brother.”

  My thoughts are running so deep, I didn’t even realize I’d made it to the door. “Thank you.”

  As he leads me into another room, my hands shake and my stomach has butterflies. After all this time, I’m not sure how Brooks will react to seeing me. I hope like hell he doesn’t send me home.

  “Have a seat, and we’ll bring him in. Just a warning – you won’t be allowed to touch him.”

  So I can’t hug him. God, I’d wanted to hug him so tightly. “I understand,” I whisper as I play with the badge they’ve given me. I’m nervous and I need something to do with my hands.

  I hear sounds and clicks, noises I’m not used to, but I remember from my one night in jail. When the door opens and I see my brother for the first time in almost a year, my breath is taken away from me.

  “You’re who wanted to see me, huh?” There isn’t any happiness in his voice, or any disappointment. It’s emotionally dead, and I worry that’s where he is at this point in his life that he has no emotions.

  I smile at him. “Yeah, it was me. I’m so glad to see you, Brooks.”

  “You come to brag about how you married a member of law enforcement? About how you’re better than me?” This is our dad talking, and I know it, but it still hurts. It hurts more than I can say.

  “No, I came to see my brother, you know the one I held when he cried at night after Mom left. The one who stood up to Dad for me when I was little.”

  I’m hoping that a reminder of who we used to be to one another will break through this wall he’s built around himself.

  “Got my ass beat a million times for you, Lee Lee.”

  Hearing the nickname makes me want to cry. “And I’ve never forgotten any of them.” My throat closes as I speak to him. “So I hope you understand I had to marry the man I did to save my life.”

  “Bullshit, Lee Lee. You should have run like Mom did. Gotten on 65, drove until your tank of gas was empty, and never looked the fuck back. Being in the same county as our old man is just as bad as being under his roof.”

  “Holden’s kept me safe so far.” I give him a small smile, hoping the love I feel for him doesn’t show on my face. It would be something that people would use as ammunition between the two of us.

  “I’ve heard a lot about him since I’ve been in here. He doesn’t seem like a dick.”

  I snort. “Sometimes he’s an ass, not gonna lie, but for the most part, he’s a really good guy, Brooks.”

  He folds his hands in front of him. “Do you care for him? Are you happy?”

  Conveniently, I skip the care question. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been. The only thing that would make me happier would be if you were with me. I’m working at The Café and doing online school through the University of Alabama at Birmingham. I’ll graduate earlier than I expected if I keep it up. Holden approves of my goals and he’s done everything he can to help me achieve them. Regardless of how our lives end up, I’m glad to have had this time with him.”

  “I’m happy for you, Lee Lee. One of us should have been able to get out of that fuckin’ hell hole and live a good life.” His voice is almost inaudible, but I can hear the happiness for me in the inflection. There’s emotion left in him, he has a shot at being a good man. I know it with everything I have in me.

  My stomach hurts because it’s so obvious he doesn’t think he deserves a good life. I can see it in the set of his shoulders, in the way his face has lines that no person his age should have. His eyes? They’re dead, completely devoid of emotion, and I want so desperately to put a spark of life back into them. “You’ve gotta fight for your life, Brooks. No one else will fight for you.”

  “Fight for it?” He clenches his jaw. “You have no idea what I go through in here, every day. Fuck, every night. We thought living with Dad was bad?” He gives me a dark chuckle. “I would go back any day of the week.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, my heart aching for him in a way I can’t explain.

  “You’re sorry?” He slams his fist down on the table. “Lee, they stuck me in here with fucking murders, rapists, and child molesters. I made a mistake by not respecting the law and not slowing d
own, and then I was a jackass about it at the trial. I know that now, but I’m not the type of person who deserves to be here. This place is hell.”

  I’m calculating dates in my brain, trying to make him see it’s not as bad as he thinks. “Two years, Brooks, they said you can get out in two years with good behavior.”

  His eyes meet mine, and again there’s that crater of blankness, a canvas with no emotion. “Lee Lee,” he swallows roughly, “I’m not gonna make it that long in here.”

  A coldness washes over me. A bone-deep frigid blast of artic air like I felt the day of the ice storm. He’s given up, and I’m not going to be able to convince him to hope for a chance. To hope for the life he could have when he gets out of here. He’s already decided he’s never getting out and even if he does, he’s never going to have what he wants. “Please don’t give up.” I reach across the table, grabbing his hand. Desperately I want to offer him some sort of comfort, let him know he’s not alone, and I’m not abandoning him the way our family has done to both of us over the years. “Please try and make it. I need you in my life.”

  “Let him go,” one of the guards from across the room directs me, and I realize I’ve done something I shouldn’t have done. Reluctantly I let the connection between us drop.

  “No one else does, Lee. And what happens when I get out of here? You think your law enforcement husband is going to welcome me into the family you’ve made, welcome me into your home? I almost killed one of his officers. He’s never going to forgive me.” He rubs at his cheeks. “Fuck, I’m not sure I can forgive myself.”

  There’s the little boy I knew who cried when he fell down, who begged me to read him a story at night after our mom left so he could fall asleep. He’s in there, I know he is. “You’re right, you did make a mistake, and you’re paying for it. I don’t think the people we live with will banish you forever, but I think when you get out of here.” I put an emphasis on it. “You’ve got to prove you’ve changed.”