Chapter 38 #3
“Some little rug rat who loved action figures and He-Man and all that stuff. I was full of hope for the world. For my family. For myself too, despite living in some … difficult circumstances. We don’t have to get into all that, but let’s just say everybody looked away.
Ignored my mom’s cries for help. Ignored mine.
Ignored my sister’s.” His eyes stayed fixed on the trees.
“Your grandma—she didn’t look away. She saved us.
She was the only one who didn’t pretend that nothing was wrong.
” His jaw tightened. “She even lied for us. To the police. She put herself on the line, risked everything, just to help.”
Silence settled between us.
“When your grandma was attacked and almost killed”—he shook his head slowly, like the memory was replaying right in front of him—“I let her down completely. I failed the woman who saved my life. Failed her family after she rescued mine.”
His hands clenched in his lap.
“I could have stopped it. I know that now. If I’d listened to her. Followed the evidence. Done my job.” His jaw tightened. “Instead, I buried my head. I was afraid of the AG like everyone else. And when I finally did the right thing, it felt too late, too little.”
His eyes met mine.
“It haunts me,” he said. “It really does. So if you want to sue the State, please do. I won’t stop you. Actually, I’ll help you however I can.” His eyes darkened. “But please, I beg you, don’t do anything until after I get my hands on John Myers.”
He leaned closer.
“I know it’s a lot to ask. But I need you to trust me.
I need to be the one who arrests him and interrogates him.
I need to be the first law enforcement his worthless ass sees.
That’s the only way I can make sure your grandma stays safe this time.
That I don’t put her through hell again. God knows she doesn’t need that.”
His mouth tightened.
“None of you do,” he said. “Not her. Not the kids. Not Amanda, after losing her first husband like that. And Jesus, Dylan, you don’t need this either. You don’t need news crews camped outside your hospital, following your patients around, asking for interviews.”
He was right. About all of it.
If Harlow still had support for his nonsense after all these years, more people would follow.
My head dropped into my hands. Fingers pressed against my face, rubbing hard, like I needed to feel something solid. To make sure this wasn’t another nightmare. Another round of the same fucking hell.
Nolan’s hand landed on my shoulder. Warm and firm, like it came from the dad I never had.
I looked up and met his eyes. There was compassion there. Sadness too. And guilt. The weight of failure.
In some twisted way, he was just another victim. Like my family.
It wasn’t his fault that the system was the way it was. That Thomas Harlow had crossed paths with Grandma a long time ago. That he’d decided to destroy us for his rotten son’s mistakes.
“That’s not quite true,” I said.
He shook his head, confused.
“I mean, that you completely failed my grandma and my family.”
Something shifted in his face, and hope flickered to life in his eyes.
“You did help my grandma,” I went on. “The gas station video. Remember? You got it even though you knew it could get you in trouble. And Mrs. Dustin—you helped her get away from her husband. She later gave testimony. Dead women can’t do that.
” My voice steadied as the memories lined up.
“It was also you who insisted the neighbor’s statement be recorded that night when Myers attacked my grandma.
The cops were told not to take it. Remember?
You made them take it anyway. Even though it could’ve cost you your job.
” I paused. “You had a family to feed too, and you did it anyway. In the end, all of that became major evidence in court. Evidence we wouldn’t have had without you.
It helped get the charges dropped. And now here you are again, fighting for my family, making sure Thomas doesn’t get the last word. ”
I held his gaze.
“So, yeah,” I said. “You did more than you think.”
He looked at me for a long moment. Then his shoulders eased a little. Like some weight had finally shifted.
“Will you call me,” he asked, “if you hear from Harlow or Myers?”
“Even before 911?” I asked.
“Yes. Unless it’s an emergency.” He reached into his jacket. “We can’t allow Harlow to make a deal for Myers. Or reopen the case on his terms. I’ve got my phone on me twenty-four seven.”
He handed me a card.
I glanced at it, then tucked it into my pocket.
“Memorize my cell number,” he said.
“I will.”
His hand reached for the car door. Then he turned back toward me and looked me over from head to toe.
“Not surprised at all,” he said with a genuine smile. “Knowing where the apple came from.”
His smile faded, and his face hardened again. “Don’t tell anybody about this meeting,” he said. “Harlow can’t know.”
I nodded.
Then he stepped out and shut the door behind him.
I watched him hurry back to his SUV and drive off.
The forest closed in around me.
Trees stood tall like silent witnesses. Leaves rattled in the wind, red and yellow fall colors catching the light.
It was profoundly beautiful.
I sat there, alone, trying to understand what hell I’d just been pulled back into.
The man who attacked my mom and my grandma was back. The man who’d ruined our lives. Who stole months, maybe years, from my mom’s life. He took that time from me and my siblings. Time we never got back. Who knew how long she might have lived without those months, rotting in jail?
And now he was back, teaming up with that other monster, Thomas Harlow. Like dung beetle buddies, rolling around in the same pile of shit together.
They wanted to finish what they’d started back then. And now my grandma wasn’t able to continue the fight or win the final battle.
But she didn’t have to.
I was here.
A grown-ass man, ready to do what I couldn’t back then.
It was almost funny watching Detective Nolan offer to fight for us. I knew his intentions were real. His compassion too. Especially when it came to my grandma and the rest of my family.
But after everything that happened, how the hell could I trust him to handle the situation? This world wasn’t built for good cops fighting the good fight anymore. Life had beaten that lesson into me early.
So, if Nolan thought I’d sit back and wait while Harlow or Myers played with my family, he was wrong.
I would find this bastard myself. By any means necessary. Then Nolan could do what he needed to do—ride in like a knight in shining armor and make sure Myers was treated like the monster he was. No deals. No favors. None of that shit. He would rot behind bars like my mom did.
Justice finally served.
Of course, that didn’t mean a happy ending, not after what happened to Mom. But, God, with Myers rotting in prison, we could all sleep a little better at night.
My phone rang.
Dad.
“Hey,” he said. “Did you go to the store or something?” His voice sounded fake. Too friendly. Like it should’ve followed with “I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done to you and your mom.” Which, of course, it never would.
“No,” I said. “I realized I’d left the steroid cream at my place.” My eyes flicked to the dashboard clock. It made sense. My small, shitty apartment wasn’t far.
“So I went to get it. Lila really needs it. I’m on my way back.”
“Ah, yeah. Good call about the cream. You’re so sma—”
I hung up before he could finish.
I slipped the car back into Drive.
Today was for my grandma. Opening gifts. Eating cake, surrounded by family. She deserved it.
After that, I’d work my night shift at the hospital. And the moment my shift ended, I would get right on it.
I would find fucking Myers.