20. He Saw Justice Delivered
He Saw Justice Delivered
Aiden
I kept my promise to Lola.
Not one finger touched Evan. Ryan Hollyoak bestowed himself with the dubious honour of taking care of that problem.
The scene playing out in front of me in Discount Automotive was like something from a horror movie.
A bare bulb hung from a string, murky yellow light dancing up the walls in a slow sway with the wind.
Rusted blood clung to the night air. The only sounds were the pained grunts that echoed through the empty garage and the dull crack of Ryan’s fist—quick and sharp to Evan’s jaw, his face, and once to his stomach.
My back pressed into the rough brick, my arms folded across my chest. The violence turned my gut, but I made myself watch every second of that beating. Evan needed to pay for what he’d done to Lola, and I needed to be there when he did.
The memory of her curled up, shaking, and her face whiter than a ghost haunted me.
I’d seen my fair share of ugly shit when I was on the police force, but I’d never seen someone so scared.
Evan had done that. But if I’d stepped in that night at the bar like I should have, she would have been spared what happened in the alley.
She would never have felt so scared, so small, lost in that dark place I couldn’t help her.
It was all on me in the end. My fault.
Ryan swept a hand over his brow. His chest heaving, he stepped back, straightened his spine, and rolled his shoulders. Punishment delivered. He was done.
Evan was done, too.
The mechanic let his knees buckle, and he collapsed into a sprawled heap on the oil-stained concrete. “Gonna call the cops on you pair.” He groaned.
Ryan wasn’t worried. He snatched a clean rag from the workbench.
“Calling the cops, huh?” He didn’t wince when he rubbed the rag over his broken knuckles.
The farmer was tougher than he looked. “You’re fresh out of luck there, mate.
The only patrol on Tuesday nights is the one the sarge begins and ends at the pharmacist’s house. ”
That was news to me. Ruth usually filled me in on everything happening around town—whether I wanted to hear it or not.
“Seriously?” My eyebrows rose. “He’s seeing the pharmacist? I thought he was chasing the girl who runs the little antique store.”
“Yeah.” Ryan balled up the rag and pitched it into the sink, grinning back at me. “He’s seeing both of ’em.”
“Shit, eh?” I chuckled. “That’s going to land him in hot water.”
Evan glared at us with the one eye that wasn’t swollen shut.
“You bitches done gossipin’?” He pressed his palm on the concrete and tried to push himself up.
A pained grimace shot across his face, and he collapsed onto his back.
“Can one of you at least pass me my phone? I need to call a doctor or somethin’. ”
Ryan shook his head. “You want to call a doctor?” His gaze flicked to me. “Aiden, who do you reckon is on call tonight?”
“I heard Tuesday is always Lola.”
Ryan wandered over to where Evan lay sprawled on the concrete.
He put his hands on his hips and looked down.
“You sure you want to take your chances with the doctor? Lola’s pissed as hell at the big guy here.
See those stitches in his hand?” He jerked a nod back at me.
“She did ’em raw. No pain relief. Just stabbed ’em right into his skin. ”
Evan’s good eye darted to my hand and then to my face. I nodded. I could have come clean and told him I’d begged Lola to deliver me the punishment I deserved, but my mouth stayed shut.
Evan’s skin blanched white.
Small towns were strange places. They had their own rules.
After years of working on the right side of the law, if someone had told me I’d spend a Tuesday night beating up some close-minded bastard, I would’ve laughed in their face.
And despite Lola’s hesitation because of her past and her heart being too damn soft, vigilante justice was sometimes the only option.
That didn’t mean the guilt of betraying her trust wouldn’t eat me alive. Good intentions got me nowhere. My list of sins only grew longer.
Ryan’s gaze shifted to me. “You reckon we’re done here?”
“I reckon so.”
His boot nudged the mechanic’s side. “You listening to me?”
Evan’s lip curled. One annoyed eye glared up at the farmer. He was listening.
“Think of tonight as your awakening,” Ryan said. “Your days of harassing the women in this town are over. Understand?”
Evan grunted.
“I don’t want to hear any more stories about you hassling the girls at the coffee shop or hitting on the blonde working at the doctor’s clinic.
That shit ain’t right.” Ryan sighed. “But my mama always believed everyone deserves a second chance. She thought even the worst man could be redeemed. You don’t want to make a liar out of my mama, do you? ”
“Your mama’s been cold in the ground for more than twenty years.”
“And your old lady’s been gone for five. If you’re still dealing with some raw feelings, get some counselling, you weak bastard.”
Ryan dropped Evan’s phone onto his chest and was thanked with a pained howl. I followed the farmer into the pitch-black fog of the street outside. His boots ground to a stop on the gravel in the parking lot.
He braced one hand on the top of his truck. “Hopefully that’s the end of it. Something should’ve been done about Evan a long time ago.”
“It wasn’t our job to sort him out.”
“Maybe not, but it shouldn’t have come to this.
Evan threatening Lola on the street? Bloody bastard.
” Shaking his head, Ryan clenched the hand on his truck into a fist. If it was to calm his anger, it didn’t work.
His voice was still etched with disgust when he said, “That never should’ve happened. ”
“You’re right.” Shame haunted me. I doubted I would ever forget the memory of Lola cowering in the alley. “That shouldn’t have happened.”
“I hope this sends a message to everyone else in town, too,” Ryan continued.
“I don’t like the way people talk to Lola.
She’s not worth less just because she didn’t grow up here.
There should be no difference if she comes from the city or a five-generation farming family like mine. She’s a good person.”
A smile tugged at my lips. “Yeah, she is. Never met anyone better.”
“She’s nice.”
“Too damn nice.”
“Kind, even.”
“Sweeter than honey.”
“Pretty.”
“Beautiful,” I corrected him.
Ryan cocked his head. He was the one smiling now. “Yeah, I thought you might say something like that.” His smile faded, all business again. “At least you decided to get your head out of your arse and help this time. The way you treated Lola at the bar—”
“Ancient history.”
Ryan’s eyebrow rose. “That’s what you’re telling yourself? I haven’t forgotten. You’re lucky I didn’t plant you flat on your arse when I was taking care of Evan.”
“Reckon you could?”
He scanned me from head to toe, sizing me up. “I reckon I’d have a good crack at it. I’m prepared to fight dirty to get you down.” His gaze narrowed. “You ever treat Lola like that again, and I will take a crack at you. Understand?”
I jerked a nod. Understood. But he didn’t need to worry. “What I did…” I trailed off with a shake of my head. “I wish I could go back in time and smack myself in the face.”
“Life doesn’t give us those chances. You can’t look back. Accept where you stand on the road and keep walking. But you sure dug yourself into one hell of a pothole by acting like you did. And why?” He waited for an answer, but I didn’t give him one. He sighed. “She liked you, you know?”
Past tense. That hurt. A lot. “Yeah, I know.”
I didn’t have much to say after that. Looking up at the night sky didn’t give me any answers, either.
Ryan clapped a friendly hand on my back. “We did good tonight. Teamwork. You look like you need some sleep, and I sure as hell know I do. I’m meant to be up in six hours to start the morning run.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled in a quick smile to say goodbye. He pulled open the door of his truck.
“Hey, Ryan…”
The farmer turned back, waiting for me to finish.
“I’ll be out of town for a week or so. Harry and I have a job in the city. Keep an eye on Lola for me?”
“Yeah, I’ll make sure no one bothers her.”
“If you run into the sarge at the bar, ask him, too?”
Ryan frowned. He didn’t question me. Worry must have been carved on every inch of my face because he nodded with solemn eyes. He understood.
We parted ways from there. Instead of driving into the hills, I drove back into town and pulled to a slow stop to park on the fringe. I had somewhere else I needed to go first.
The cops were useless. I ran my own patrol. Not just on Tuesday nights. Most nights. I made myself suffer through the agonising drive up to my place in the pitch-black because my nerves would be even more rattled if I didn’t take a walk across town.
I only made one stop.
Lola’s place.
The lights of the tiny cottage burned bright.
I kept my eyes low, not trying to peek at Lola, but looking everywhere else for signs of anything out of the ordinary.
Her bin was waiting by the gate for collection the next day.
The lavender she’d planted along the fence looked pretty as a picture.
Everything seemed secure. Nothing was out of place.
The night was cold enough to catch my breath in a misty sigh of relief.
The house next door was dark, but the lacy curtains of the front window edged to the side. I raised my palm and waved to Yolanda like I’d done last night and all the nights before. The shadow of her wrinkled hand waved back before the curtain swished shut.
It was the confirmation I needed to head home.
We were both still watching. Keeping an eye on Lola. Keeping her safe.