Chapter 44
44
DEAN
T he rumble of my bike filled the air as I pulled into the parking lot of the county jail. This was going to be my future for the next six months. I killed the engine and looked around. My hands stayed wrapped around the handlebars for a moment longer than necessary.
Did I really want to do this?
Hell no.
I didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to see him. But I knew I had to. This was about obligation, and maybe a little bit of guilt. The kind of guilt you can’t shake no matter how much you tell yourself it’s not your fault.
I swung my leg off the bike and yanked off my helmet, running a hand through my hair. I walked toward the entrance. The door buzzed open before I even had a chance to push it. The stale air hit me like a wall. It smelled like bleach and cigarette smoke, a combination that made my stomach churn.
“Visitation?” The guard at the desk didn’t even look up.
“Yeah,” I said, my voice rough.
“ID.”
I slid my license across the counter and waited while he typed something into his computer. I knew Seth was pissed at me. There was a good chance he didn’t put me on the list to visit.
I waited while the guard did his thing and then slid the ID back. “Can’t take that in there,” he said, nodding at my helmet.
“And we both know it won’t be on my bike when I come back out,” I sighed.
He shrugged. “Guess that’s the chance you’ll take.”
I rolled my eyes and took my seat. It was the usual suspects lingering in the lobby waiting to visit.
Soon, I heard “Jackson” called out.
I stood, my boots heavy against the linoleum floor as I followed the guard through the security checkpoint. The metal detector beeped as I stepped through. I raised my arms, letting them pat me down. The sound of keys jangling and distant voices echoed down the narrow corridor as I was led to the visitation room. Visitors were treated like prisoners. Everything in my being was telling me to rebel, to argue and fight back. But that was the old me. I understood the necessity.
Seth was already seated at one of the tables when I walked in, his expression unreadable. He looked thinner than the last time I’d seen him, his face sharper, his eyes hollow. He didn’t say anything as I sat down across from him, just stared at me with a mix of defiance and something else—something that looked a lot like resentment.
“Hey,” I said finally, breaking the silence.
“Hey,” he replied flatly. His voice was hoarse, like he hadn’t used it much lately.
I leaned back in the chair, crossing my arms over my chest. “You okay?”
He let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, yeah. Peachy.”
I ignored the sarcasm, keeping my tone even. “You need anything?”
“What do you care?” he shot back, his eyes narrowing. “You made it pretty clear where you stand.”
I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to argue. It had been two weeks since the sentencing. Two weeks of silence. I was giving him time to calm down.
He looked tired. But it wasn’t what worried me. It was the way he held himself. No swagger. No smirk. Just quiet resignation. I didn’t miss the fact that one cuff was secured to the table between us. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you here,” he said.
“I’ve been waiting for you to call.”
“You said you’d show up,” he muttered. “I figured you changed your mind. Free of the pain in the ass little brother.”
He was lashing out. I expected that. “Didn’t think I’d be here either.” My voice came out rougher than I meant. “But that’s what happens when your brother gets arrested.”
Seth exhaled through his nose, his gaze dropping to the scratched tabletop. I expected him to come back with something cocky. He stayed quiet. “Weird being in here,” he muttered. “Feels like a lifetime ago I was screwing around without a care in the world.”
I knew that feeling. The sharp divide between before and after. I’d felt it the day our dad died, the day I realized I was all Seth had left.
“Yeah, I get that,” I said. “All good things must come to an end, right?”
He snorted. “Yeah, most of the time. This is a bit of an extreme way to end a good time.”
“So is death,” I said without missing a beat.
It was harsh, but I wasn’t going to let him forget that he did something that could have resulted in someone’s death. He was lucky it hadn’t happened before. There had been a lot of near misses. His luck had run out.
“Look, I know I messed up.” His throat worked. “And I know you’re probably done with me.”
I stayed silent. Let him sit with it.
Seth’s fingers tapped nervously against the table before he stilled them. “I’ve had a lot of time to think. About everything. You. Portia. What I did.” His voice cracked. “What I let happen.”
My gut twisted.
“Portia?” I asked.
“I know you’re the one that picked her up that night.”
“The night you stranded her,” I said.
“Yes. That was a dick move. And I know I disrespected her. And you.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “I think that’s an apology you’ll need to give to her.”
Seth’s jaw clenched. “I will. Given the chance.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him Portia would be long gone by the time he got out. I doubted she cared. She had a bright future ahead of her. Seth was in her past. Just like me.
“You were right,” he said again with a long sigh.
“About?”
“I needed to hit rock bottom. I just didn’t think it would hurt this much.” He swallowed hard.
“The bottom is supposed to hurt,” I said softly. “It’s the only way for any of us to learn. It gets the message across. I think that’s why parents spank their kids. The pain is supposed to be a reminder.”
He snorted. “Our dad beat the hell out of us. It didn’t work.”
“Very different form of discipline,” I said.
“I almost killed a kid, Dean.” His voice broke. “ I almost killed a kid. ”
The words hung between us, heavy with the weight of realization. I was glad he was finally getting it. I had been worried sitting in jail would make him angry and bitter.
I wanted to tell him this was the price. That this was what it took to wake up. But the look on his face—the genuine horror, the regret—stopped me.
Instead of rubbing his nose in it, I decided to forgive him and support him. “You’re going to get through it.”
Seth scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah? How do you know?”
I rubbed the back of my neck, the tension there a constant these days. “Because you’re a Jackson. And for better or worse, we don’t break easily. We’re built tough. It might feel like you’re never going to recover, but you will. I told you I would be here for you. I will.”
A short, bitter laugh escaped him. “Guess I’ll find out.”
“I was thinking. Once you get out, maybe we should get out of town.”
Seth’s eyebrows shot up, his eyes locking onto mine. “Out of town? Like leave Larkspur?”
I nodded, leaning forward slightly. “Yeah. Fresh start. We could go somewhere no one knows us. No reminders of anything.”
He frowned, his fingers tapping against the metal table again. “What about the shop? Your business?”
“I’ve got people who can handle it,” I said with a shrug. “It’s not like I’m tied to the place forever. I should have stepped back a long time ago.”
Seth studied me for a moment, as if trying to figure out if I was serious. “What about Portia?”
The question caught me off guard. I didn’t want to talk about her—not with him, not with anyone. “What about her?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Just thought you two were…” He trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging like an unfinished thought.
“There’s no me and Portia.”
Seth raised an eyebrow. “Sure looked like there was something.”
“Drop it,” I said, my tone sharper than I intended.
“Alright, alright. Just saying.”
“So,” Seth said finally. “Where would we go? If we left?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Somewhere quiet. Maybe out west. Montana, maybe. Or Wyoming.”
“Big sky country,” he said with a faint smile. “Sounds… different.”
“It would be,” I agreed. “No one to judge us out there. No one to remind us of what happened here.”
“I don’t know if I’m allowed to leave the state,” he said.
“I’m sure there are exceptions,” I replied.
“You’re really serious about this?”
I nodded. “Yeah. It’s something I’ve been tossing around. You interested or what?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, maybe.”
The guard stepped forward, signaling time was up. Seth’s eyes flickered to mine, and for the first time in years, there was no resentment. No deflection. Just quiet understanding.
“Take care of yourself, alright?” Seth muttered as the guard clicked the cuff back into place.
I nodded. “You too.”
I watched him shuffle out. The door clanged shut behind him. The heaviness in my chest didn’t ease. For the first time in a long time, I actually believed Seth might come out of this a different man. A better man.
But me?
I stood, shoving my hands in my pockets. I walked out into the too bright afternoon. My helmet was still sitting in the chair where I left it. The guard grunted something I couldn’t hear. I grabbed it and walked outside. The parking lot asphalt radiated heat.
My bike waited where I’d left it. I put on my helmet and looked around. Seth didn’t say it, but I knew what he was thinking. He thought I was running away. Maybe I was. I just couldn’t see myself staying in this town without her. Or with her.
I sat on the seat and pulled on my riding gloves. I gripped the handlebars and started the bike. The bike surged forward. I hit the highway, looking forward to the ride. It almost always cured what ailed me.
The ride didn’t clear my head like it usually did. Instead, it just gave me too much time to think about the one thing I didn’t want to face. Portia.
I slowed as I hit Main Street, the hum of the engine dropping to a low growl. The town looked the same as it always did—unchanged, predictable, safe in its sameness. But something about it felt off now.
I pulled into the alley behind my shop and killed the engine. I sat there for a moment, helmet still on, staring at the back door. The shop had always been a place that gave me comfort. It wasn’t feeling like that now.
Finally, I pulled off my helmet and walked inside. It was all so familiar, but it felt hollow now. Like the place had lost its soul. Or maybe I had.