Chapter 24
“Yes, we are checking in with Lucy Ramirez,”
I told the security guard behind the desk.
He eyed us before looking down at his computer screen. “I have verbal approval from Lucy for a Joshua Roberts and a Garrett Williams. I will need to see driver’s licenses.”
We pulled out our IDs as a warden took them to photocopy.
“It’s cold in here,”
Josh whispered, zipping his coat closed.
I nodded, watching the guard type our names into the system. His brown eyes narrowed as his forehead creased, “Hey, are you-”
The warden cut him off as their radios sounded. “Maddox, go see to second floor. It sounds like they might need extra hands.”
Maddox frowned but nodded as he stood from his chair. “Yes, sir.”
“We will wait here for Lucy to join us,”
I said, taking a seat in the waiting room.
Josh’s leg bounced anxiously as we sat in the frigid and silent lobby. “Should I go check on Lucy? I should go check.”
He stood abruptly to do so, but I gripped his elbow. “Give her some time. Have a seat.”
He grunted and plopped back into his chair. “I hate it in here. It makes my skin crawl.”
I chuckled. “It’s the same as any other jail.”
“I hope I never have to see another one.”
The front door swung open as Lucy stepped into the lobby. Her eyes were bloodshot, cheeks flushed, but she stood strong. She was going to be okay.
Lucy glanced at us before stepping up to the desk to check in. “Yes, I spoke with the deputy last week. My name is Lucy Ramirez.”
The warden nodded, making a copy of her ID.
“If you three will follow me,”
he said as he gestured for us to enter through the metal door to our right. It clicked heavily as he unlocked it.
Josh scrutinized the man. He was burly, probably in his late fifties, sporting the traditional mustache with his uniform. Josh towered over him by nearly a foot. We were escorted to a row of makeshift phonebooths. “Have a seat. The inmate will be in shortly.”
The three of us forced three metal chairs into the tight space of the booth, then crammed into them.
“Thank you,”
I said with a polite nod.
Once he left the room, Josh physically relaxed. “I don’t like him. He seems like a weasel.”
I shot a warning glance at him before chiding, “We are still being monitored, Josh.”
He shrugged. “I’m not a prisoner.”
“Fuck’s sake.”
I rubbed my face, praying for patience, or whatever was needed to get through this event.
Lucy swallowed audibly and took my hand in hers, squeezing hard as the door behind the plexiglass booth opened.
Everything around me stopped. The air became thick. My ears began to ring. Josh pushed back in his chair, legs scraping harshly against the concrete floor, cursing loudly at the man behind the glass.
“This is a fucking joke,”
I said hollowly because now sitting right in front of me was my brother, Graham, dressed in fluorescent orange, head dropped in shame.
I looked to the guard who stood behind Grant. “This is the person who killed David in the hit and run?”
“I didn’t know,”
Graham pleaded, tears pouring down his face. “I was blacked out; all I knew was my car hit something. I didn’t know until the news report.”
“Fuck you,”
Josh shouted as he slammed his hands on the desk in front of us. “You waited over a year to fess up? You spineless, worthless piece of shit.”
A security guard stepped up to Josh. “Sir, I’m going to need you to calm down.”
“Fuck this.”
Josh threw up his hands. “You don’t deserve any more of my time. I hope you rot in here for the rest of your life.”
He stormed out of the room, leaving me to face my brother, the murderer.
Lucy looked so small, wrapped in her emerald winter coat and stocking cap, so out of place in this room. She glanced from me to the man behind the glass, gasping as she did a double take.
I was prepared for anger, something similar to Josh. I was prepared for tears. I was not prepared for the laughter, the hysterical laughter, that left her lips.
“What a sick, sick world we live in,”
Lucy said once she caught her breath.
“Lucy,”
Graham begged, his black shaggy hair had fallen over his ashen face.
“Don’t! Don’t you dare speak to her,”
I shouted. “Don’t you dare use her name. How dare you! I did everything for you. I arranged every goddamn rehab and this? This is what you…”
I couldn’t find the words to finish that sentence. “I can’t fucking look at you. I hope you’re ashamed of yourself and think of the lives you destroyed all because you couldn’t fucking put the bottle down!”
Lucy placed a hand on my arm. Her voice was soft and barely audible. “I’ve seen enough. Take me home.”
I pointed a finger at my brother, “If she doesn’t press charges, I will. I gave you every chance, Graham!”
Lucy took my arm. “Let’s go.”
She pulled me to the door, just as he shouted, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry, doesn’t bring my husband back. Sorry doesn’t bring my children’s father back,”
Lucy said, voice firm, strong. God, I couldn’t be prouder of the woman at my side.
Our walk to the trucks was silent. Josh climbed into the moving truck, still visibly fuming despite having sat out in the bitter cold for the last half of the altercation.
Lucy and I buckled in and try as I might, I couldn’t come up with anything to say. It was Graham. My brother killed David. My family was responsible for Lucy’s loss. It was my fault he was in Virginia at all. I’d taken him to that rehab. It was my fault.
Lucy dove into her phone, flipping between reading, texting, and watching numbing videos. She silently cried, wiping tears every so often.
Oh my god, I was going to have to break the news to my parents. I was going to have to tell them, not only had I failed to get Grant well, but that he also killed David and was so drunk he didn’t know, and once he did know he waited over a fucking year to confess.
Lucy had just begun to heal. She had been smiling again and now, fuck, now what was going to happen? I ruined everything. My one job was to serve and protect and I couldn’t even protect my family or the love of my life.
The word failure replayed over and over in my head even as we pulled over to get dinner, even as Lucy and I swapped places, driving, even as we pulled into the hotel.
Josh pulled Lucy under his arm, and that was good, that was right. She deserved better than me. They went to the desk, asking for the rooms.
“I, uh, I need to get some air.”
I pointed to the parking lot. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”
Lucy’s face fell. She watched me retreat. She wanted to say something, I could see it clearly on her face, but I turned around, fleeing with my tail between my legs. She and the kids deserved better.
I hopped into the truck and drove nowhere specifically, but drove, doing my best to clear my mind and make sense of the day. My phone chimed after an hour.
I love you, Garrett. It’s not your fault.- Lucy.
But it was my fault. It was all my fault.
I drove on the back roads surrounding the city, lost in thought when Josh texted me.
Hey, man. Luce fell asleep on my bed, just in case you get back and wonder where she is. Don’t beat yourself up. You did everything you could for Grant. I know that. Lucy knows that. Don’t spiral.
I was, in fact, spiraling. I tossed the phone into the passenger seat and kept driving.
Somewhere around midnight, I pulled into the hotel, just to sit and stare and the neon lights. My eyes stung with fresh tears as I pulled out my phone and dialed the only person I needed to speak with the most.
On the third ring, my dad’s sleep hoarse voice answered. “Son, you alright? It’s late.”
“Dad,”
my voice cracked as emotion consumed me.
“Breathe, Garrett. Take your time and breathe.”
By the time I calmed down, I blurted everything in rapid succession, “It was Graham. Graham killed David. He was so drunk he’d blacked out. It was my fault. I took him to that rehab. I put him close to them and their family. It’s all my fault.”
“Oh, Garrett, my son.”
I wanted nothing more than to fall into his arms as if I were still a young child.
“You are not and have never been responsible for the choices your brother made. I hate that Grant couldn’t see the hope in overcoming his addiction, but we did everything we could for him. Jail may be just the place he needs to be to get sober.”
“You’re not listening, Dad. It’s my fault!”
“No, son, you are the one who is refusing to see reason. Graham is the one who couldn’t commit to a rehab facility. He couldn’t commit to sobriety. That place you took him was his last chance. We had gone through so many. This is on him.”
The doors to the hotel slid open, Lucy stepped outside, wrapped in a big red banket as she made her way to me.
“Dad, I’ve got to go.”
“I love you, Garrett.”
“Love you, too.”
I hung up as Lucy climbed into the cab.
She placed a hand on my thigh, leaning her head back against the passenger seat’s head rest. She turned to look at me, exhaustion clouding her eyes.
“Garrett.”
I took her hand and placed it in her lap. “Lucy…”
She sat up straight. “No. Don’t you dare.”
My mouth opened and shut; I couldn’t form the words.
“It’s not your fault, Garrett.”
She reached out to touch my cheek, but I pulled back.
“I took him to that…that place. I am the reason he was close to you in the first place. It’s absolutely my fault.”
“Garrett, I love you.”
Her voice broke with the declaration.
My chest ached as I watched myself create even more space between us. “I love you, but you deserve better. Your kids deserve better.”
Tears streamed down our cheeks as we broke together in the cab of my truck. “I don’t want better, and neither do they. We love you dammit, and when you finally come to the realization that you can’t protect everyone from everything, we’ll be here, still loving you because you know what? You are not your brother’s keeper. He made his choices. You can’t make someone change who doesn’t want to.”
She looked at me for a moment before shaking her head and going back inside. When I eventually headed in and trekked down the far too bright and plush hallway, into the dark hotel room, it was empty. Lucy had gone back to her brother’s room.
That was fine. It was for the best. I fell onto the down comforter and let the exhaustion of the day pull me into a dark and dreamless sleep.