Trust in Me (47 page)

Joe tensed again. “You did?”

“Uh-huh. There’s sites on the Internet.”

“Oh, Matt,” Annie said. “I wish you’d talked to me.”

He didn’t look at her. Instead, he raised his eyes to his father. “It says men don’t change easy. It’s inside them. How do we know you won’t turn back into that man again?”

For the first time in the five months he’d been back, Joe’s face revealed doubt. Annie remembered Linc’s comment.
He struggles with the Jekyll and Hyde idea all the time
. From somewhere inside her, the need to help him surfaced.

When he still didn’t answer, she intervened. “You’re right, honey, abusive men don’t change without a lot of help. Maybe if your dad explains what he went through when he left here, and the years of help he got, you’ll believe he
has
changed.”

Matt’s expression was torn. “Do you believe him, Mom?”

He takes his cues from you, Annie
, Linc had warned her.

Annie studied Joe. She got a flashback of him, on this very day, fifteen years before, dressed in a black tux and an irreverent smile. Clearly, he was so different now from that cocky twenty-two-year-old. “Yes, Matt.” She locked her gaze with Joe’s. “I believe he’s changed.”

o0o

JOEY, please don’t hurt me....

Your wife has a dislocated shoulder and severe bruising....

You flirted with him.... I told you what would happen if you ever flirted with him again.

Your father’s just grumpy because he’s tired...

Daddy, don’t...

Joe forced the voices out of his head—they’d been there all morning, given free reign by Matt’s accusations—as the noon sun beat down on him and his son. They sat under the umbrella table on the deck, partly shaded by that and the large oak whose branches hung over the railing. “So, what do you think?” Joe asked.

“It’s better, I guess.” Matt pushed away the last of his sandwich. Joe could tell he’d had about all he could handle. Though Joe insisted they take breaks, where they tossed around a baseball, Matt showered and Joe took a short walk to clear his head, he’d insisted on a marathon discussion with his son. But now it was over. Matt had to digest what had been said. He couldn’t take in any more until he did.

“Let’s stop now, buddy. I made my point. You’ve got a lot to think about.” He reached over and squeezed Matt’s shoulder. The only bright spot in this whole ugly thing had been that Matt didn’t shrink from his touch, as Joe had thought he might. That and, of course, Annie’s part in the morning. She’d given them time alone, but also partaken of the discussion when he asked her to, explaining her own long road to mental health. “I want to say one more thing, though. I think you should go for some counseling.”

“Me? Why?”

“So you can say some things that you might not be able to say to me or your mom.”

Matt’s nose scrunched up. There were a few freckles on it, like Annie’s. “I couldn’t talk to a stranger about this.”

“How about to Linc, then?”

“Linc knows?”

Joe nodded. “He knows the whole story.”

“I guess I could talk to him.”

“Good. I’ll set something up.”

Matt pushed back his chair and stood. “I’m going to my room for a while.”

Joe nodded, suddenly overcome by a deep sadness. The results of his abuse had been so far-reaching, it threatened to level him. “Thanks for listening.”

Matt shrugged. “It’s okay.” He turned, just as Annie came to the doorway. Matt took a few steps, then pivoted around. “Will, um, will I see you tonight? For practice?”

Forcing a smile, Joe said,
“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”

Matt grinned at the phrase. Thought a minute. “Okay. I’ll try to
lose this chip on my shoulder
by then.”

Joe felt his body relax at the conciliatory retort. For three weeks, his son had refused to trade sayings with him and Faith. He watched as Matt hugged Annie, then disappeared into the house. Drained, Joe leaned into the cushions of his chair and stared at her. It was the first time they were alone since Matt had stumbled onto the porch this morning.

“I hope I did all right,” he said softly. “I wasn’t ready for that little ambush.”

Her smile was sincere. “Oh, I think Billy the Kid handled it just fine.”

“Do you, Belle?”

She looked after Matt and nodded. “I do. He’ll be all right.”

Joe wasn’t so convinced. “I don’t know. It’s tough to come to grips with the fact that your father’s a batterer.”

Annie stared at him for a long time, then she whispered, “A
recovered
batterer. His father’s a
recovered
batterer.”

Joe just stared at her, unable to believe the absolute certainty in her tone. As the soft June breeze bathed them in its warmth, on their wedding anniversary, Joe marveled at the gift he’d just been given by his ex-wife.

Chapter 28

RONNY sat in his bedroom, playing with Doc’s homemade video game that ran circles around any professionally made game he’d ever seen. Margo had been impressed, too, when Doc had sent her a copy. She and Doc even talked on the phone about it.

Ron thought about calling Margo tonight, or Linc, but he’d been hanging around all day waiting for Lily to call, and he wanted to keep his phone Linc free.

His gaze landed on a picture of his mother, and his heart clutched. She hadn’t been happy since the Indy. First of all, his grandparents were on her case big-time about letting him go to the race with Tucker, and in general about the way she brought him up. Finally, Ron himself had told them to leave her alone.

But more than that was bothering Bonnie Parker. It was as if some life had been sucked out of her. Over the weeks, Ron had remembered similar behavior from the time his dad died. Even at seven, he’d sensed the phony front she’d put on then. Like now. And he remembered hearing her cry, the same as he’d heard her a couple of times this week.

He didn’t know why, though. Any more than he knew why Lily was acting so weird.
She’d
been an ice maiden lately. She’d stopped returning his calls a week before graduation, and when they were together, she wouldn’t let him touch her. He asked to see her tonight to straighten things out, but she said she’d call if she could see him.

He wished he had a guy to talk to about this. Linking his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling with its faint plaster swirls, he thought about Tucker. Ron could talk to him. They’d shared lots of things these past few weeks, besides working on the race car, which had been a real kick. Tucker had told racing stories, but also talked about his own life, growing up without a dad like Ron had.

The only thing was, Tucker seemed sad these days, too. Ron frowned. Tucker was sad. His mom was sad. He wondered if...the phone rang, dragging him from the Linc of thinking. He was glad. Bounding off the bed, he reached it on the second ring.

“Hello.”

“Ronny?” It was Lily.

“Lily? Are you okay? You sound upset.”

“I’m not okay.” Her voice cracked. “I’m...” She broke off, started to cry. “Ronny, please, come and get me.”

“Get you? Where are you?”

“I’m at the lake. At Maze’s cottage.” Before he could respond, she added, “There was a note in my locker to come here. I thought it was from you. Loose and Maze...they aren’t being nice, Ronny.”

Ron froze. She was with Loose and Maze? Those guys had been acting crazy for weeks. Ever since Mr. Johnson was hurt. Loose had yelled nasty things to Lily in the hall, and he’d left filthy notes in her locker. Sammy said Maze had pushed him around when he was hanging out at the drugstore. They’d left Ron alone, except for the glaring looks Loose sent his way in the cafeteria.

Suddenly, Ron heard pounding in the background. “Open up, bitch!”

“Lily?”

“Oh, God, no, they woke up.”

“Woke up? Lily what’s going on?”

“Ronny, please, come...”

“... spread your...”

“Lily?” He panicked.
“Lily?”

“Ron—”

The phone went dead. For a second he stared at it. Shit!

Dropping the receiver, he crossed to the dresser, found the keys to his father’s Harley that he kept tuned and ready to go in the garage, and bounded downstairs. He tore out of the house, jumped on the motorcycle, and turned the key. Its engine growled to life. Fast, he sped out into the dark night. It was strange being on the bike after so long. He forced himself to slow down. Officer Pratt would love to catch him driving, and nobody’d believe him about Lily.

Tucker would.

The thought stayed with Ron as he drove out of the town limits, where, once on the open road, he let it rip. Staring into the oncoming traffic, the headlights hurting his eyes, his mind whirred with thoughts. Lily was in trouble. Maze and Loose were with her. And they were dangerous. He knew it in his gut.

As he neared the turnoff to Doc’s cottage, he realized he couldn’t take on those two, especially if they were carryin’ their weapons of choice—knives. He hadn’t even
thought
to bring his, he’d been without it for so long. And suddenly Ron was afraid.

Oh, God, Ron wished his father were alive.

He glanced at the road leading to Tucker.

But maybe...

o0o

“HOW much farther is it?” Tucker asked, concentrating on the winding lake road; the pitch-black night was broken only by the beam of the headlights of Doc’s Mustang. Tucker’s heart thrummed in his chest.

“About a half mile.” The kid’s voice was hoarse with worry.

He couldn’t reassure Ron. He was still reeling from the unexpected visit. Tucker had been asleep dreaming about Beth. When the kid pounded on the door, Tucker threw on jeans and a T-shirt and, once he’d heard the story, a light jacket. Together, they’d flown out the door. “You sure your mama isn’t gonna know you took the bike? I wouldn’t want her worryin’.”

“No, she’s out on a date with that Becker guy. She said they were going to a late movie after dinner.”

Forcefully Tucker pushed the thought from his head. He had more to worry about right now. Later he’d consider what the woman he loved was doing with another guy tonight.

Ron said, “I’ll kill them if they hurt her.”

“Hang on, son, we’re almost there.” Tucker hadn’t thought about calling the police until he and Ron were on their way to Maze’s cottage. Then, he realized he’d left his cell phone back on his dresser. He was afraid to stop to call and lose time.

They pulled into the driveway in the back of the posh house on an acre lot facing Glenora Lake. Ron bolted out of the car before Tucker cut the engine. They hustled around front.

“Wait, Ron.” Tucker grabbed the boy’s arm just as he lifted it to pound on the wooden front door. “Let’s take a look inside, first.” He nodded to a bank of floor-to-ceiling windows facing the water.

He and Ron ducked into the shadows and crept to the windows. The blinds were open, revealing the interior. Sure enough, they were there. Loose lounged in a chair, his foot draped over the arm of it, a glass of booze in one hand, a joint in the other. He was staring at Lily, who sat on the couch, looking small and fragile.

Another boy appeared in the doorway. His swagger was enough to alert Tucker, even if the girl hadn’t gasped. Maze carried some rope—and yanked on it menacingly. Lily backed up in her chair.

And Ron went ballistic. “No-o-o...” he shouted and began to batter the window.

The three people in the house stilled. Maze and Loose whirled toward the windows. Lily started to cry.

Tucker noticed a screen door to the left. “This way.”

They ran to the door, pulled it open and were inside the garage, then the kitchen, in seconds. Tucker heard voices to the left and raced toward them with Ron behind.

Loose and Maze were at the window, their backs to Tucker and Ron. Tucker was thanking his lucky stars for the surprise edge this would give them when Lily gasped again.

And Maze and Loose circled around.

Each boy held a knife in his hand. Their faces were wildly animated, their eyes glassy. Their bodies had an unnatural edginess to them.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Batman and Robin.” Maze laughed and wielded his knife. “I’d like to carve me up some fuckin’ bird right now, wouldn’t you, Loose?” He crouched, narrowed his eyes. “Shall we take care of the dickheads?”

Loose’s eyes gleamed brightly. “Looks like these boys need a lesson, Maze my man. Just like good ol’ Johnson.”

Tucker kept his mouth shut and assessed the situation. “Lily,” he said inching toward the girl. “Get outside.”

Lily froze.

“Now!”

She scrambled off the couch and out the living-room door.

“Ron, take off your jacket and wrap it around your arm.” As Tucker did the same, he watched Maze and Loose come toward them.

They lunged simultaneously.

From the corner of his eye, Tucker saw Maze tackle Ron just as Loose dove for Tucker. Tucker did a quick sidestep, and Loose banged headfirst into the wall. The knife clattered to the floor and Tucker reached for a straight chair next to him. Lifting it high, he hit Loose on the back and the boy slumped into a heap.

A crashing behind him made Tucker whirl around. Ron had fallen back and hit his head hard; Maze hurled himself on top of him. Tucker flew across the room into Maze, knocking him off Ron. Maze fell to the floor, still clutching the knife. Tucker straddled him, and gripped his hand. He yanked on it, but the knife didn’t budge. Tucker got a quick glimpse of the boy’s eyes up close—they were frenzied, and his face was flaming. The kid was high on something, giving him unusual strength. Tucker was as strong as a bull, but Maze held him off.

With a huge surge of strength, Maze bucked, and Tucker fell off of him to the floor. The boy towered above him on his knees, and raised the knife. Tucker rolled to the side just as the blade came down, slicing the edge of the beefy part of his hand. He cried out and rolled completely away.

A huge metal object came down on Maze’s head and the boy slumped onto the rug. Lily Hanson stood over him, holding a bloody statue that had graced an end table.