54 Ryan
It isn’t until Jamie drops to his knees, fingers laced behind his head, that I understand what he’s doing.
A cop grabs Jamie’s arm and yanks it behind his back.
“No- wait,” I say stepping forward from where he shoved me against the fence.
“He didn’t- stop- he wasn’t- ” I'm yelling at the officers who are flooding the alley.
Jamie snaps his head toward me.
The look in his eyes stops me cold. It isn’t fear. It isn’t confusion. It isn’t even anger.
It’s control. And resignation.
“Shut up,” he hisses. “Just shut the fuck up, Ryan.”
The cuffs snap closed. They haul him to his feet and start walking him past me to the patrol car.
“Jamie- ”
The look he gives me kills the word in my mouth.
“Not a word,” he seethes as they shove him into the back seat.
The door slams.
I don’t move. I can’t.
And then he’s gone.
Neighbors are everywhere now along with more police and an ambulance. It's chaos.
Gary is moved onto a stretcher, but no one seems to be moving with any urgency, which makes me realize- he's dead.
My chest tightens, panic clawing up my throat. This is wrong. All wrong.
I grab the nearest cop. “He didn’t do it. He didn’t do anything. Please- I need to speak to someone- ”
He jerks his arm free. “You can come to the station and make a statement,” he says, already turning away.
“No- wait- ”
I start after him, but a soft hand on my arm draws my attention.
“Ryan,” my mom says quietly, tugging at me.
“Mom- he didn’t do anything. We have to help him. We have to stop them-”
She nods too fast. “Okay. Let’s just go home, we will figure it all out. ”
I let her guide me back across the street, my stomach twisting with anger and panic.
On the porch, I pull my phone out and call Christian while my mom goes to make coffee
“Ryan?” he answers quietly. He’s probably still in bed with Frankie.
“Gary's got shot. And they arrested Jamie,” I say.
“What the fuck!” he yells through the phone. “Where are you?”
“Home- uh, the old place,” I tell him.
I don’t even remember hanging up the phone.
I just sit there for a moment, unsure what to do, feeling numb. I notice a box on it’s side, stuff spilling out of it.
I just bend down and start picking things up. It's all random stuff, a confusing assortment of things.
Then I see an old baseball hat of mine and pick it up. I see my signature, scrawled in sharpie and can't help but smile, remembering him there, cheering me on always.
I look through the rest of the things, realizing what they are. A few, random things tied to good memories. A handful of good things from his life he wanted to keep.
My vision blurs.
After that, everything does.
The next thing I really remember is standing in my parents' kitchen, alternating between feeling like I'm going to throw up and feeling like I'm having a heart attack.
Christian and Frankie arrive. He’s on the phone already, voice clipped and sharp as he talks to someone. He walks straight to the table and sits next to me. Frankie runs up and drops onto my lap.
“Ryan- what happened?” she says, her hands on either side of my face like she’s examining me.
“He didn’t do anything, baby,” I choke on the words.
“This is our lawyer,” Christian says, sliding the phone across the table. I look at him, confused, cause I sure as hell don't have a lawyer.
“Mr. Lett? Can you tell me what exactly happened?” His voice is confident and Christian is nodding at me, encouragingly, so I try to start talking.
“It’s just-” I start, shaking my head, "he didn't do it. He didn't do anything."
"Just tell us what happened?" Frankie says.
I take a deep breath and try to recount every detail I can.
“I went to the house to make sure the lights were off, doors locked, whatever. And through the window, I saw Gary out back in the alley-"
"What was he doing?" the lawyer asks.
"I don't know. I didn't really notice. It's like, when I saw him... I just, I don’t know what I was thinking, but I- ”
“Wait- if you’re going to confess to something, I need to stop you right there-“ the voice through the phone starts.
“No- no. I didn’t do anything, but I was so mad. I just went out there- “
“Why?” the voice interrupts.
I glance at Frankie. “I don’t know- I don't know what I was going to do.”
“Were you armed?”
“What? No-"
“Were you intending to hurt him?”
I start to say no automatically, but I look at Frankie’s shoulder, where I know under her shirt is an open wound caused by that man. I blow out a breath. “Maybe. I don’t know, but maybe. Probably. But not shot him. I didn't- I don't have a gun."
There’s a beat. “So then what happened?”
“Halfway across the yard the other person- I didn’t even see them there I was so focused on Gary- they pulled a gun. Shot it. I froze. Gary collapsed and the shooter took off.”
“Did you get a look at the person.”
I shake my head. “No. I didn’t see his face.”
“It was a man?” the lawyer asks. “You’re sure?”
“I- yeah. I guess. I don’t know. I only saw Gary on the ground.
Bleeding.” My voice cracks. “Then Jamie was there. And there was no time- the cops started coming and he just,” I look straight at Frankie.
“He shoved me away. Told me to get out of there and dropped to the ground, surrendering. Cops didn’t even look at me or anyone else who’d come outside.
They saw him on the ground by the gun and the body and they just arrested him. ”
“Oh Jamie,” Frankie says, her eyes filling with tears.
“He didn’t do it. He wasn’t even there.”
“Okay,” the lawyer says. “I’m going to head to the station. I’ll call later.”
Christian pulls the phone back and Frankie wraps her arms around me, holding me tight as I just rock with her on my lap.
“I can’t believe he let himself get arrested,” I mumble into her hair.
“I can,” Christian says. He doesn’t sound scared. He sounds mad. “Trying to be a fucking savior. I’m gonna kick his ass.”
After that, the house fills up fast.
One minute it’s just us, and the next the front door is opening and closing every few seconds, people filtering in to ‘check on things,’ but really just to gossip.
My mom moves through it all, offering people water like that’s going to fix anything. Out back, I hear my siblings playing, enjoying the fact that half the neighborhood is at our house.
At some point, Jamie's mom comes over. She looks annoyed more than worried. Irritated. Like Jamie getting arrested is an inconvenience she now has to deal with.
Like she’s ever dealt with anything…
She walks into the kitchen and immediately shoots Frankie, who is still sitting in my lap, a nasty look.
"So he killed your old man for you?" she asks.
The room goes silent. Then she lets out a short laugh.
"Honestly, I'm surprised it took this long. The way he worships the ground you walk on, I figured he'd have done it years ago."
Frankie is on her feet before I can react.
“He didn’t do this!”
Jamie's mom slightly rolls her eyes and crosses her arms.
"If you knew him at all, you'd know that! He didn’t kill anyone- he wouldn't!”
I glance at Christian and we exchange a look.
The truth is, Jamie probably would have killed Gary years ago if it wouldn't have cost him Frankie.
But neither of us says that. I just reach over and take Frankie’s hand, squeezing it.
"He was just trying to help! He thought he was doing the right thing!" She swipes angrily at her eyes. "Because that's who he is." Her voice breaks.
"Because he’s good."
The last words come out as almost a sob.
Christian stands and crosses the room and settles a hand against her back.
“We’re going to fix this,” he says, sounding a hell of a lot more confident that I feel.
Frankie looks up at him. Tears are still falling, but there’s something hard in her expression now, determined.
“We’re getting him back,” she says. It’s not a question.
Christian nods once. “Yeah, love.” His jaw tightens. “We are.”