by Dara Girard
“To get muddy,” he said simply.
Brett blinked not understanding the logic. “Why did you want to get muddy?”
“’Cause I messed up my pants, I thought if I messed up my clothes too...”
“No one could tell you had an accident?” Brett finally guessed.
He nodded.
Brett scratched his head and nodded as well. He could see some rationale in that. “Fine. I get it. First let me drive to the school to let them know you’re okay and—”
Jason quickly shook his head. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Of course I do. Your teacher—”
“I didn’t go to class today.”
“What?”
“Grandma dropped me off and I went inside and that’s when I...that’s when it happened.”
Brett glanced at the time, it was nearly twelve. “You’ve been out of school all this time?”
He nodded.
“Okay, we have to tell your mom—”
“No, she’ll kill me. Dad will too. Please I gotta stay with you until school ends.”
“I have to call one of your parents. I won’t let you get into trouble,” he said quickly when the boy’s eyes widened in fear. “We’ll get you showered and changed as if nothing happened. All right?”
He nodded.
Brett called Corinne while Jason was in the shower.
“What do you mean he’s at your place? And why do you need a change of clothes? Did he get into another fight? Why didn’t they call me?”
“It’s a long story and I’ll explain later. I just wanted you to know that he’s not in school and I’m washing his clothes, but drying may take a while and you told me his father was supposed to pick him up today so you’d better let him know there’s been a change of plans.”
“But—”
“He’s safe. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“I’ll be over as soon as I can.”
Brett found a grey knitted sweater for Jason to wear while his clothes got cleaned then parked him in front of the TV. Brett tugged on the collar of his shirt, feeling sweat slide down the back of his neck. Driving Jason had been a little more nerve-wracking than he’d expected it to be. He had to calm down. He heard the ding of the washer and quickly put the boy’s clothes in the dryer. “I’m going to take a quick shower,” he told Jason who was playing with Martha on the ground, “You know not to open the door to anyone, right?”
Jason nodded.
In the shower, Brett let the water rush over his body while he took a few steady breaths, to keep his body from shaking. He was okay. Everything was fine. He’d done what he’d had to. He’d done the right thing. Maybe he’d finally recovered. He could start leaving his past behind. He closed his eyes and lifted his face up, letting the water cascade over him. Hope. He could finally hope.
He stepped out of the shower and started to towel dry when he heard the doorbell. Damn, he must have been in the shower longer than he’d thought. He quickly wrapped the towel around his waist and hurried down the stairs. “That must be your mother,” he shouted to Jason as he headed to the front door.
But when he opened it, Corinne wasn’t standing there.
A man was.
A man whose dark gaze swept over Brett’s towel clad body then shifted to the little boy dressed only in a man’s sweater, who stood silently behind him. “What the hell is going on?”
“It’s not—” A fist to the jaw stopped Brett’s words.
“Dad no!”
“You sick bastard,” Harrison said and rushed at him.
Brett managed to stop the second attack. But the man’s rage was more than he’d expected. Harrison got him in the side with a well placed punch before Brett was able to shove him against the wall. He pressed his forearm against Harrison’s neck and subdued him. “Take a deep breath.”
“I’ll kill you.”
“Not if you pass out and with one tiny squeeze I can make sure of that. Now take a deep breath.”
“Dad please,” Jason begged.
He did.
“Another one.”
“Let me—”
“Now.”
He did.
They heard the ding of the dryer announcing its cycle had ended.
“It’s okay, Jason,” Brett said. “Go get your clothes from the dryer.”
Jason looked to his father for guidance and Harrison gave a brief nod. Jason looked at the two men uncertain before he left the hall.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Their eyes met in combat.
Brett released his hold and took a step back. He held up his hand when Harrison opened his mouth. “Before you traumatize your son even more,” Brett said in a low voice. “I want you to look at him. Really look at him. Does he look like he’s been hurt in anyway? Mistreated? Primed? I don’t know what kind of man you think I am, but I don’t prey on children. I’ve been with Corinne for a few months now and I’ve looked after your son several times. He’s been to my house to play with my cats, he knows my father, and he, Corinne and I have had innocent fun together. So when he called me, I came running.”
“Why the hell would he call you? Corinne told me he was here.”
“I don’t know that yet, but right now you have a choice to make. A choice to steal your son’s innocence away from him; to teach him to not trust his instincts or that it’s okay to ask for help when you need it.
“Also, what kind of woman do you think his mother is? Do you think she would trust her son with a man who would abuse him? Is that the lesson you’re going to teach him today? That every man is a threat? That only his father can judge for him? He took some bad risks and as a parent you can address them, but not like this. Not this way. But just so you know, I haven’t touched him. I’d never touch him. He wanted my help and I offered it. That’s all.”
Harrison’s tone remained hard as did his suspicions. “Then why are you in a towel and he’s wearing your sweater?”
“I’ll tell you after we agree to a simple lie.”
Harrison frowned. “A lie?”
“Yes, Jason’s going to wonder why you reacted the way you did. You are not going to soil his mind with your suspicions. You’re going to tell him something else.”
“What?”
Moments later Jason looked at his father with his eyes wide while he, Harrison and Brett sat in the living room. Brett had managed to get a chance to change out of his towel into jeans and a shirt after they’d concocted their story. “You thought Uncle Brett had kidnapped me?”
“Yes,” Harrison said, “and I was so worried I overreacted.”
“He’d never do that.” Jason turned to Brett. “Tell him.”
Brett nodded. “Of course not.”
Jason pulled on the sleeve of his shirt uncertain. “He busted your lip good ‘cause of me.”
Brett shrugged. “Only because I let him.”
Harrison stood. “Okay, buddy, time to go.”
Jason jumped to his feet. “Uh…first I gotta feed the cats. Right Uncle Brett? I’ll do it now…you said we’d do it.” He raced to the kitchen. Before Harrison could follow, Brett stopped him and said, “Let me talk to him for a couple minutes, okay? I think it’s important.”
Harrison took a deep breath before he nodded and sat back down.
Brett walked into the kitchen where he found Jason squatting next to Alvin and Martha’s full food bowls.
He pulled out a chair and patted the seat. “Okay, tell me what’s going on.”
Jason took a seat and looked at him with hope. “Can we keep it a secret?”
“About what happened today at school?”
He nodded.
Brett rubbed his forehead. “You’re too young to have secrets.”
“I am?”
“Yes. Secrets are only for grownups. So you can’t have secrets until you’re, I don’t know, maybe twenty-five.”
“Twenty-five! That old?!”
“That’s right because
secrets are how you can spot the monsters.”
Jason’s eyes widened and his voice grew soft. “The monsters?”
“Yes.”
He frowned, skeptical. “Monsters aren’t real.”
“Yes, they are but they hide very well.” Brett rested his arms on the table and leaned forward. “They look ordinary like us so that you can’t see them. That’s how they get you. But you don’t have to be afraid because you can spot them.”
“I can? How?”
“Anytime an adult asks you to keep a secret they’re monsters. Good adults know secrets can be dangerous. They can get people hurt or even killed.”
“Really?”
“Yes, so if you ask me to keep a secret and I said ‘yes’ I’d be a monster. Adults and kids can’t have secrets. Someone else should always know, at least one other person, whether it’s your parents or grandparents or someone your parents trust.”
“Mom trusts you.”
“Right, so we’ll have to tell her.”
Jason scrunched his face in displeasure. “Secrets are bad?”
“For kids yes. I told you, it’s your weapon to spot the monsters. That’s why your father was so scared. He thought I was one. Monsters kidnap children.”
Jason sighed. “So I have to tell him too?”
“I’ll help you. But what you did today was dangerous. That woman could have been one of the monsters. You went inside her house and we never would have known where you were.”
“She had a really friendly dog and I called you right away.”
“Yes,” Brett said with patience, “and I’m proud of you, but you can’t trust strangers so easily. Next time if something happens, go to the principal or the nurse but stay at school. Understand?”
Jason nodded.
Brett took a deep breath and said in a gentle voice, knowing he had to ask, but dreading it all the same, “Has any adult asked you to keep a secret?”
“No.”
He felt the tension within him ease. “Good.”
Jason tightened his hand into a fist. “But I’m really afraid of monsters, I even drew a picture. Mom told me they’re not real, but—”
“She was trying to protect you, but now you know how to spot them. You don’t have to be afraid. If they ask you to keep a secret you tell another adult right away. You can tell your mom and dad I told you this, they may get upset but that’s okay.”
“You’ll get in trouble?”
Brett shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”
Jason rubbed his hands together. “Can we still be friends?”
“Of course, but why did you call me today and not your parents?”
Jason swung his legs. “Because I can tell you like me. Kids can tell when adults like them.”
“Your parents like you too. They love you.”
Jason shrugged and shifted his gaze to the floor. “But you still like me, right?”
“Of course.”
Jason jumped out of his seat, raced over to him and hugged him, his tiny arms holding Brett tight. “I love you, Uncle Brett.”
Brett was too shocked to move at first then briefly hugged him before he pulled back and said in a gruff voice, “Now go. Your dad’s waiting.”
Jason smiled at him and left the kitchen.
Brett didn’t move. He could feel himself sinking. He could feel the waves of fear threatening to pull him under. Fear that he not only loved Corinne, but he loved her son too. He loved them both and he wished…
But she didn’t know. He hadn’t told her everything yet. Jason didn’t know Brett was a different kind of monster. At least that’s how he felt.
Brett pushed himself up from his chair with effort and made his way out of the kitchen.
He followed Harrison and Jason to the door, keeping his right hand in a fist to keep it from shaking. Soon he’d be alone. He was safe when he was alone. Jason opened the door then turned and waved at him; Brett forced a smile and waved back.
Harrison sent him a considering look. “Does Corinne know you’re such a good liar?”
Brett met his gaze, determined not to reveal his weakness. “Does she know why you jump to conclusions?”
He cleared his throat. “Fair enough. I owe you an apology.”
Brett shook his head. “I’m not sure I’m the one you should be apologizing to.”
Harrison narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean?”
Brett wasn’t sure how to phrase it, but he sensed Jason didn’t realize how much his parents loved him. But it wasn’t his place to tell them. “Never mind.”
Harrison opened his mouth to say more, but the sight of Corinne’s Honda driving up the driveway stopped him. “I guess this is my time to go,” he said.
Brett looked at Corinne as she stepped out of her car and for a second, Brett wished Jason and Harrison weren’t leaving, because he was afraid.
He was afraid to be alone with her.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“I’m sorry I can’t do this.”
He looked awful. Corinne had never seen Brett in this state before as he stood by the kitchen counter and poured himself a glass of orange juice. She was used to him being a man in motion, but this time was different. He was shaking. She saw his hand tremble as he raised the glass to his lips.
“What happened?” she asked him, confused by his words. He’d explained the bruise on his face, but nothing else. “I thought you said everything was okay with Jason—”
Brett set the glass down with such clumsiness that he spilled some of the juice. “Everything is fine with him.” He grabbed a dish towel and cleaned up the spill. “I-it’s me. I-I can’t do this.” He turned to her the dishtowel gripped in his shaking fist. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you believe I could.”
“Brett,” Corinne said in a tender voice. “Sit down. You’re shaking so much it’s scaring me.”
He folded his arms, but it seemed to make the shaking worse. “I know and I’m sorry. I hate you seeing me like this.”
“Brett—”
He closed his eyes. “I can’t do this. I can’t see you anymore.”
Corinne walked towards him then stopped, afraid to get too close. “What happened beside Harrison hitting you? What did Jason do? What did I do?”
Brett opened his eyes and held her gaze. “He didn’t do anything. It’s me.” He took a few steps forward and collapsed in one of the chairs. “You can’t trust me. I can’t trust myself. I don’t deserve this.”
“Why not?”
He rubbed his forehead-back and forth, forth and back—in a manic way that frightened her. When he spoke, his voice was filled with pain. “Because I killed my best friend.”
Corinne stared at him. “What?”
“Years ago we were both living our dream as dancers in New York. We’d appeared in music videos, stage performances. We were hungry and young when we’d first met at an audition. He got chosen for the production; I didn’t, but that didn’t stop us from becoming fast friends. He could jump and leap through the air like a rocket, a powerful, amazing performer. For years we felt the world was ours until…” Brett took a deep breath. “Until one rainy night.” He briefly covered his eyes with his trembling hand before he let it fall to the table. “We were driving down here to visit family and…the roads were wet, a deer came out of nowhere and I swerved to avoid it. The car spun out of control and we slammed into a tree. I wasn’t badly injured; a couple of bruises and scratches, but Tyrone shattered his leg.
“No amount of surgery could get his body to respond the way it once had. He couldn’t leap and spin with the force he used to. I tried to help him adjust, he was still able to work, but that wasn’t enough. He never accepted that he couldn’t dance the way he used to. He pushed himself to exhaustion and his family worried about him. I did too. He never said it, but part of him blamed me and I blamed myself. I thought of ways I could help. I knew dance couldn’t be his only future so…
“I’d always had a knack for real es
tate and housing. When I was young I helped an uncle fix up properties and make repairs. After the accident I bought a cheap duplex and lived on one side and rented the other. I made enough to put a down payment on another property, then another. I was soon getting requests from others to help them manage their properties, deal with tenants who got locked out or cleaning up clumps of hair clogging drains.
“I created Quest and brought Tyrone on board and paid him well. It was supposed to symbolize that we were on another journey…but it wasn’t enough. I didn’t see that it wasn’t enough. Maybe I didn’t want to.” Brett swallowed. “Anyway, slowly he started to resent me and whatever help I offered him. I didn’t realize how much until I met Delaney. I fell for her hard. I thought she loved me too. Until I caught her in bed with him.”
“What?”
Brett held up his hand. “Something in me snapped at that moment. Something vicious and ugly came over me. I can be a grade A asshole and I was. I wanted to hurt Tyrone as much as he’d hurt me. So, I pretended to forgive them but slowly made them pay. I connived a way to get him demoted and slashed his salary even though he needed the money at the time.”
“That’s understandable. He betrayed you.”
“I didn’t stop there. I knew how much he cared for Delaney. By that time I didn’t care whether I loved her or not. It was only later that I learned she also brought out the worst in me. But at that time all I cared about was revenge. I wanted to show Tyrone that I could have what he couldn’t. I made him best man at my wedding, sent him the wedding invitation just for the thrill of it with a picture attached.
“That’s when he told me how he really felt. He begged me not to marry her. That he loved her more than he’d ever loved dance. I didn’t care. I didn’t hear him…” Brett briefly covered his eyes and fell silent.
“What happened?”
Brett looked at her with haunted eyes. “Tyrone killed himself a week before the wedding.” He nodded solemnly when Corinne stared at him speechless. “I pushed him too far and I didn’t handle it well. I didn’t handle it well at all. I cancelled the wedding and I told her why. That I’d used her; that I didn’t love her anymore. She called me a killer. She wasn’t far from wrong. Tyrone had the last laugh. In one week my life fell apart.”
