Chapter 36
RJ
Handing off some of my work to Walker has been easier than I thought, and he’s better help than I’d assumed he’d be.
He’s stepped up in ways that make him unfamiliar to me; no longer the insouciant artist, but a reluctant leader willing to pick up whatever slack there is left in our plan.
He’s been checking on Jansen, checking on me, doing his part of the plan without any fuss, then diving into everything else we still have yet to do. Just his shopping list is intimidating.
He’s become the glue of our team.
And I’m glad to have him, especially with the unending pile of work that keeps filling my plate—I’m not making the dean’s list this semester. In fact, I’m so far from my usual work that one of my professors pulled me aside to make sure I’m okay.
I told her that things aren’t good with my family, but that I’m doing the best I can with the time I have when I’m not helping them. And it’s not even a lie. This is my family. There may not be a paper that claims we belong together, but we do.
The ads that keep cropping up for wedding rings tell me I’m not the only one in the house who wants a symbol of our connection. Not that I’ll say anything to Walker, but it’s nice to know I’m not the only one whose brain is going there.
We might not get our names on a piece of paper, but that doesn’t mean our commitment to Clara is any less. Everything we’re doing right now should be more than proof of our connection.
So, with the bare minimum of my schoolwork done and my professor’s sympathies gained, I’m neck deep in the dark web, digging up more information about whatever pedo convention is going to happen here at the end of the year.
Walker slips in after my umpteenth dead end, sprawling in Trips’ desk chair he moved here months ago. “How’s the hunt?” he asks.
“Mostly futile.”
“I used the system you set up to look for dirty cops, and there’s someone on every shift who would respond to a fire at the storage unit that could be compromised.”
I spin around, my screen not telling me anything new. “That’s not good.”
Walker sighs, then pulls out his phone. “Do you think we should call Jansen? Brainstorm a solution? He always has off-the-wall ideas. We might need that at this point.”
“Clara would have a solution,” I say, annoyed at myself the second I say it. We both know this is her strength. I didn’t need to point it out. “Call Jansen,” I say, wishing I could pull back my first reaction.
The speakerphone rings loudly in my room, Walker’s eyes weary. “I miss her,” he whispers.
“Same,” I reply as Jansen’s chipper voice greets us.
“So, why the call?” he asks after giving us an unnecessary update on the renovations he’s done on Black this week.
“We can’t destroy the evidence at the storage unit,” I say, getting to the point.
“Then we’ll move it,” Jansen says, as easy as that.
“But where?” Walker asks.
There’s a crash on the line, followed by Jansen chiding Fluffington for knocking over the ladder.
And now I’m worried about him over there by himself.
Emma’s splitting time between Black and her apartment, testing the waters to make sure she’s safe.
But I refuse to hold onto the worry. I can’t. My worry plate is overflowing.
We wait for the chaos to end, and when Jansen comes back, I can practically see him bouncing on his toes, his solution bright in his voice.
“Remember how Trips mentioned a cabin his family owns? Out west? We could move the stuff there. I’m sure it would tie back to their family. And then, the cops could do a deeper dive into the Westerhouse properties. I bet the country cops hate rich assholes like Trips’ dad.”
Walker leans back. “I’ll see if I can find it. But yeah, that might work.”
I turn back to my computer, uncertain, but willing to let them figure this out.
“If you need help cleaning the paper trail so the cops can follow it, let me know,” I say, already moving onto what’s next.
There’s a chance I could get away with pretending to be one of these pedo creeps, even if it makes me sick.
I’m not sure I can, but if I need to so I can find out what’s going on, I will.
At least I’m much better at lying online than I am in person.
My phone rings, Trish’s name popping up, and Walker leaves, taking Jansen with him.
“Hey,” I say, hoping this won’t be a long conversation. I just saw my sister for Thanksgiving last week. I might not be a stellar brother right now, but she’s more than capable of telling when I don’t want to talk.
“RJ, have you heard from Mama? Or Pops?”
I stop typing. “I haven’t talked to them since Thanksgiving. Why?”
“Um, so I don’t want to worry you, but I was talking to Mama, and a call beeped in. You know how she is with her phone. She accidentally added me to the call instead of switching over. And, well, it was Pops. He said he’s at the police station.”
My heart plummets. “Which one? Is Mama going to get him?”
“I don’t know. Mama started crying and yelling, and I snuck off the call. I wasn’t supposed to hear all that. But I don’t know. You weren’t surprised when we told you about Pops’ gambling problem. How long have you known? Has this happened before?”
I curse under my breath, and Trish goes silent.
“So it has happened before.”
“Not like this.”
Trish lets out a groan on the other end. “Listen. I know you like to keep things private, close to the chest and all that. But this is serious. This is about Pops. And you’ve kept it from me for who knows how long. You’re my brother, RJ. We’re a team. You, me, and Jade. Teams don’t keep secrets.”
“Trish—”
“I’m not done. I get it. Maybe I was a kid when this started. Maybe I wasn’t ready. But I’m an adult now. I have been for a while. So talk to me.”
I close my eyes, the brightness from the screens suddenly too much.
“He’s been like this since his second tour.
And I’ve known about it nearly as long. If you don’t tell me which precinct he’s at, I’ll look it up, but there’s nothing to be said, Trish.
This is his problem. I’ve been trying to get him help, I thought he was doing well, but… ”
“But now he’s in jail. Any idea why?”
How the hell does my sister always know when I’m not saying the whole truth? “Because I blacklisted him at every legal gambling establishment within 250 miles of home.”
Trish doesn’t answer, which hurts. Instead of focusing on it, I pull up my internal access to the police database, looking up my dad, annoyed to find him at the closest precinct. The one Clara went to last fall. The one Tom Reed works out of.
“RJ, will I ever know why you keep so many secrets?”
I stop what I’m doing, my sister’s voice small and a little broken.
“Trish, it’s not safe for you to know all my secrets.”
“Do I need to be safe? From you?”
My exhale is percussive, and I’m sure she can hear it on the other end. “No. You’re always safe with me, Trish. Look, I’ll find Pops, and when you’re back over spring break, we can hang out. Just you and me. Or with Jade, or Clara, or whatever you want.”
It’s a promise I’m not sure I can make. Who knows what January will bring, let alone March. But I want to make it. Trish is more than my sister. She’s been my shield. And when I try to shield her in return, she gets hurt. I’ve got to make it up to her.
“That’s a long time from now, but if that’s all you can offer…okay.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, before ending the call.
The swarm of officers in the bullpen makes me sweat and shake, my hands deep in my jacket pockets.
Walker stands half in front of me, like he can protect me from the sea of blue, but there’s no protecting me from fear.
I spot Mama before our escort does, but I let the officer lead me all the way back, afraid to say anything that might be misconstrued as corrective.
There’s so much to fear in this room.
Mama bundles me into a hug, explaining that Pops got caught in a raid, and I realize for the first time that when we ran, we left a hole in the illegal gambling scene.
Sure enough, familiar faces pass through the room, and while I don’t care much that Aiden Johnson was caught in the sweep, I am a little sad to see Donna perched on a chair across the way.
They all studiously avoid eye contact with Walker and me, except for Aiden, who immediately starts squawking about Walker and me and our games last year.
Then a tan puffer jacket comes through, Officer Reed intercepting the guy, whispering low to him until he shuts up, and for probably the only time in my life, I’m glad to see a cop.
I don’t plan on that feeling lasting long, however. Cops and I won’t ever mix.
Mama gets my attention, and then Pops is in her arms, stiff for a moment before he puts on his usual grin, like this isn’t a major fuckup.
“RJ,” he says after my mom lets him go.
“Pops.”
“Say, Diane, why don’t you bring the car around while I finish signing these papers. Then we can get home. I don’t want to take any more of your night.”
Mama looks between us, her face grim. “I’m not sure I should,” she says.
“It’s okay, Mama. Pops and I just need a word in private.”
Walker steps in, chatting with my mom like he’s known her all his life, playing a version of himself that he rarely does—one full of false openness and Jansen-like cheer.
But my mom lets him lead her out of the station, my dad directed to sign here and initial there as my sweat soaks into my sweatshirt.
Reed steps in just as Pops finishes, sending the officer helping us off to do other things.
“Busy night. All hands on deck,” he says, acting like he doesn’t know me.
“Wish I were back at home on my computer, if I’m being honest,” I say, hoping he understands that I have nothing to do with this, that I was working on exactly what I said I would be.
He nods, then lets us go, like he had to verify I was still on the up and up. This is such a fucking mess.
The night air bites, a blessing after my body’s reaction to being surrounded, but still, I jump when a siren chirps as it leaves the garage.
“So, about that deal,” Pops says, looking across the street instead of at me, not noticing my discomfort.
“You reneged.”
“Yeah. Messed that right up. You should have seen me—I was up when the cops came in, two kings in my hand, a third on the flop and…” he trails off, realizing that I’m not looking for a tall tale. I’m looking for him to be better.
“How much?”
“Was I up?”
I take my hands from my pockets, hopeful they’re not shaking anymore, needing something cool against my wet palms. “Did you lose?”
He takes a few more steps forward, like he doesn’t want to see me in his peripheral vision. “A grand, give or take.”
“How long have you been hitting this game?”
“First time.”
I take a few quick steps so I’m in front of him. “Do not lie to me, Pops. How long?”
He glares at me, then deflates. “A few months.”
“Damn it, Pops.”
“You don’t get it, RJ.”
“You’re right. I don’t. Mama, the girls, they think you hung the goddamn moon in the sky, and you take that trust, that love, and you throw it away. For what? A little bit of a high?”
“This is hardly a problem. If you knew how some of the guys in my unit came back, you’d think I was a goddamn saint. I’m no drunk, I don’t do drugs, I don’t beat on any of you. So, I sometimes play the odds. Who doesn’t?”
“I don’t. Mama doesn’t. Trish and Jade don’t. You have a problem, Pops. You can’t stop, even when you say you want to. Even when I make it nearly impossible to slip up, you still find a way to mess this up. You were going to your meetings, weren’t you?”
“I stopped about a month ago. I figured you’d be banging on the door, chewing me out.”
Shit. “So, I get too busy to monitor you and you go off the rails?”
“This is hardly off the rails.”
“How much? Total, over the years have you lost? Do you even know?”
“RJ…”
I step closer, not letting him charm his way out of this. “How much?”
“I’m your father. You do not use that tone on me.”
I shake my head. “The total, Pops? Over eighty-five thousand dollars. You could have paid for Trish’s college with that.
Jade’s. Mama could have had that new kitchen she’s always wanted.
We could have gone on vacation, traveled to other countries.
So many options that you took away from us.
That you frittered away thinking you don’t have a problem.
But you do, Pops. Whatever happened with the VA doc? ”
“How’d you know about that?”
“It’s not important.”
He walks away from me, looking for Mama, hoping for a rescue. “You want to know? I made that appointment, but I didn’t mention this because it’s not a problem. I had them check my back, make sure it hasn’t gotten any worse over the years.”
“Pops—”
He gives up looking for Mama, finally facing me. “Listen. It’s late. I can’t do this right now, RJ.”
Just then, two cruisers flash their lights on, sirens blaring as they peel out of the garage, and I slam my eyes shut. Fuck, I hate this.
But when I finally feel good enough to open my eyes, Pops is there, his face unreadable. “Are you okay?”
“No. I’m not. I’m at the absolute last place I ever want to be, my heart is beating faster than a rabbit’s, and I’m sweaty enough that it might as well be eighty degrees out here instead of eighteen.
But I’m here, for you. For Mama and Trish.
For Jade, even if she doesn’t know it.” Closing my eyes, I debate keeping the last bit inside.
But I can’t. He’s got to understand. “I’m here, rescuing you, just like always.
Why can’t you even pretend to show the same support? ”
He’s quiet, and I let him be. I’m out of words, those last ones hard enough to get out that I might be out for a while.
“Do you really feel like that?” he asks long after I’d given up getting a reply.
I nod.
“This never should have ended up on your shoulders.”
“No. It shouldn’t have,” I manage to reply.
He turns, familiar headlights flashing as Mama pulls up to the curb. “I’ll try. I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try.”
I let him leave, unsure if his trying will change anything. But I do know that this time, I can’t be his safety net. I won’t keep his secrets.
Trish knows. If Jade was home tonight, she probably knows, too, after watching Mama rush out to come rescue him.
Walker pulls up behind my parents, and as I climb into his car, I realize their problems aren’t mine anymore. I can’t make my dad change, no matter how much I wish I could. I did everything I could to keep him from slipping up, and it wasn’t enough, because he didn’t want to change.
He doesn’t want to.
If he wants help, I know exactly how to give it. But if he doesn’t?
It’s not my job to save him. It probably never was.