by Freya Barker
I’d been too late to catch them before they got on the bus at school and raced home to intercept them coming off. Jonas started running to the house the moment I finished telling them what happened, and since I had a heartbroken Gina pressed against my chest, I couldn’t run after him. Since then he’d basically been holed up in his room, refusing any help with clean up and not talking. I talked—I talked until I was blue in the face. The only time I got a reaction from him was when I broached the subject of drugs. My seventeen-year old son got up in my face.
“I was fourteen, Dad, the first time Mom sent me to the parking lot behind the high school to pick up some medicine for her. Where were you?” He’d shoved me in the chest and I let him. Stayed rooted to the spot when he ran up the stairs and slammed his door shut. Then when my little girl walked right up and wrapped her arms around me, comforting me—I’d never felt like a bigger failure.
Right now, I’m trying to get Jonas to come with us to Ike and Viv’s for a BBQ. It’s fucking freezing outside and Viv wants to barbeque. Crazy woman. A year ago, Jonas would’ve been all over that, although I realize now that probably had more to do with getting out of the house. Jeannie rarely, if ever, came along.
“Daddy!” Gina’s voice sounds from downstairs and I take one last look at Jonas, who has turned back to his computer, headphones covering his ears. The message is clear and I don’t have it in me to fight. I’d stay home if not for my girl, who needs a little bit of normalcy.
“Do me a favor, Bud? There’s a basket of laundry on the coffee table that needs to be put away.” I know he hears me when his eyes throw daggers in my direction.
“Coming!” I yell down to Gina as I back out of the room. Jonas doesn’t even move. It’s as if I don’t exist. Straightening my face, I head downstairs where Gina is hopping from leg to leg, eager to get going. “Hang on, baby girl, let me grab the salads.”
-
“Jonas not with you?” Viv says, when she opens the door with the baby on her hip and looks over my shoulder.
“Can’t pry him away from his computer game,” I reply, but from the look Viv shoots me I know she’s not buying.
“I’m sorry.” Her soft voice carries a world of understanding.
I watch as she hands Francessca to Gina. The smile on Gina’s face is enough to crack my heart open a little wider. Not so long ago, I’d been able to make my baby girl smile like that.
“It’ll be alright,” Viv mumbles as she grabs the containers from my hands and motions me to follow her inside.
Until I started working at The Skipper, donkey’s years ago, I’d made it a point not to socialize too much with work people. I’d seen too many personal issues creep into the work place and vice versa. It was rarely a good idea. But over the years, stepping into the kitchen at the pub has felt more like coming home than going to work. A place where I felt more connected than I did in my own house. I used to blame it on Jeannie, but I’m starting to realize it was likely as much my fault as hers. Not normally one to mince words with anyone, I avoided the problems at home.
“Beer?” Ike is standing by the open fridge in the kitchen.
“Yup.”
Bottle in hand, I enter the crowded living room, my eyes drawn outside where a group of guys are standing around a smoking BBQ, drinking and laughing. Nuts. Their breath fogs against the cold outside air, yet none of the fuckers is wearing a coat. I’m still wearing mine, so with a general nod in the direction of the room, I beeline it to the sliding doors and head out to join them.
“Are you actually minding the grill or are you just trying to stay warm?”
“Dino!” Gunnar says when he turns at the sound of my voice. “Watching the meat, of course,” he adds with a grin. “Real men don’t get cold.” I roll my eyes, taking a swig of my cold beer.
“Are the kids with you? Dex’s been waiting for Jonas to get here.”
Dexter, Emmy, and Caden are Gunnar’s kids. Dex is the middle child and the same age as Gina, but always gravitates toward Jonas. Mutual love for gaming.
“He’s home.”
“Angry?” Gunnar asks, turning away from the group a little. He was there when Jonas tore through the house to find his room in shambles. He stayed while I tried to talk to the kid, but he slammed the door in my face.
“Anger I can deal with. I’ve seen flashes of it, but mostly he’s detached, and I have no fucking clue how to handle that,” I admit.
“Talk to Pam.”
Gunnar’s the second person to suggest that and maybe I should bite that bullet. As much as we can barely stand to be around each other, I have to admit she’s damn good at what she does.
“She here?” I ask, looking inside to see if I can spot her.
“Not yet. One of her girls is in the hospital. She told Syd she’d try to pop in.”
Syd is Sydney, Gunnar’s wife and a good friend of Viv and Pam’s. Pam has a lot to do with getting those two girls through some pretty tough times. Just like she’s recently done for Ruby, another girl who was under her care and ended up working at The Skipper. It seems to be a theme. I’d put my life on the line for any of those three women. I have great respect for them, for what they struggled to overcome. It stands in such stark contrast with my own wife, who had a good life, for whom I would’ve done anything, but who chose to numb herself with drugs and throw her kids and her marriage away.
After shooting the shit with the guys for a bit, I head back in to check on my girl. I find her in the basement, hanging out with the other kids around the TV.
“How are you doing, Princess?” I ask her quietly, kneeling beside the couch. I lean over to give her a kiss on her head.
“Okay. Dad, can I stay over at Emmy and Dex’s tonight?”
“Not sure that’s a good idea, honey. Tomorrow is a normal school day.”
“But I can go to school with them, Dex is in my class, remember?”
A responsible parent would nip that in the bud right away, but the barely concealed excitement on my little girl’s face is something I haven’t seen in a long time.
“Let me think about it. I’ll talk to Syd, okay?” Gina’s almost bounces out of her seat at my answer. I smile and straighten up. “No promises, though,” I caution her, but she knows as well as I do the decision is basically made.
“Thanks, Daddy.” The smile she directs at me this time almost sends me back to my knees.
“Love you, baby girl.”
“Love you too, Daddy.”
Christ. I have to get out of here before I lose it.
Halfway up the stairs, I almost bump into Pam. With my head bent, I didn’t notice her coming down.
“Hey.” My voice sounds thick as I force sound past the lump in my throat. I notice her stepping back up one tread and actually have to tilt my head back a little to see her face. I’m tall at six five, but Pam’s no midget, either. She’s got to be close to six feet tall, which is why she can look down at me from her current vantage point. I fight the childish urge to take one step up so I can look down at her.
She has that same arrogant look on her face whenever she spots me. This time, though, her face softens when she looks at me. She actually looks approachable. Pam is a stunning woman. A true amazon, with one of the most luxurious bodies I’ve seen, and a beautiful, almost chiseled face, even more pronounced by her short-cropped hair, but with stone-cold eyes. I always thought her attributes were wasted on a man-hater like her, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t notice.
“I was looking for you.” Her voice, a rich, deep alto, actually gives me a physical reaction.
“Found me.”
“Clearly,” she shoots back. “Can we talk for a minute?”
I’m surprised when she doesn’t wait for my answer, but instead turns on her heels and starts walking up the stairs, her enticing round ass swaying from side to side. Mesmerized by the sight, I follow her.
She leads me right into the garage off the kitchen and shuts the door behind me. Intrigued, and a l
ittle on edge, I wait for her to speak. She seems nervous, wringing her hands and pacing back and forth. Very unlike her.
“Viv told me what happened at your house,” she starts, and I automatically fold my arms in front of my body. A move she immediately picks up on. “Don’t be pissed. She’s worried about you and with good reason.”
“How is that?” I snap, in full defense mode now, wondering where the hell she gets off sticking her nose in.
“Dino—please...it’s not going to be easy what I have to tell you, and you’re making it worse. Please trust me when I say I want to help.”
I’m fucking shocked; to say the least. And more than a little worried that she’d feel the need to say please twice in one sentence.
In a nonverbal response, I unfold my arms and let them hang by my side.
Pam
“Did you hear about one of my girls ending up in the hospital?”
I’ve just come from the hospital, where Maria is being held in the psych ward for at least three days. Apparently, when she’d mentioned to her boyfriend she wanted to go back to the shelter, he felt it necessary to punish her by using her for some sick initiation ritual. The experience was devastating to her, and between the attending at the ER and myself, we felt it was for her own safety that she stay in psychiatric care for the short term.
“Gunnar mentioned something,” Dino grumbles, but his eyes never waver from mine.
“She’s been involved with a gang called the Seals, you know of them?”
“Heard of them, yes.”
“Maria came to Florence House a while ago. She’d been beaten by her boyfriend, who happens to be the new leader of the Seals. She disappeared four days ago, and yesterday afternoon I received a call she was in trouble. I drove over to the Anchor Motel on the south side, where she said she was, and—”
“Say what?” Dino interrupts, grabbing me by the arm. “You went alone? Are you nuts?”
Something stirs me at the anger in his voice. It gets my blood boiling for two completely different reasons.
“I did not,” I bite off, twisting my arm from his shovel-sized hands. “I called Mark. I’m not an idiot.” I didn’t bother telling him that calling Mark had been a last minute decision, I’d already been charging out like the damn cavalry.
“Well, thank fuck for small favors,” he rumbles in that deep voice of his. The only thing keeping me from punching him in the face is the fact that any second now, I’ll be breaking his heart.
“Anyway...I was waiting for Mark to check with the front desk when I spotted a couple of kids coming out of a room, lighting up. I had a feeling and headed over there, when the door opened and a third kid came out and ran off.”
Without even hearing me say it, Dino seems to sense what is coming because, if possible, the massive man appears to be shrinking in front of my eyes. “Jonas was crying, Dino. Your boy came out of that room, but he was running away. Whatever went on there, he obviously didn’t want any part of it.”
“Was she raped?” his voice is faint.
“Yes, but—” Before I can clarify anything, Dino’s fist slams through the wall to the side of the door. “Please, listen to me. He never touched her. He couldn’t. Maria told me.” I step forward, wanting to put a supporting hand on his shoulder but before I can, he turns around, his face a mask of pain.
“Tell me,” he says, not even making an effort to hide his tears, his mouth set in a straight line. “Tell me everything.”
The door to the mudroom opens and Ike’s head pokes in, taking in the scene as well as the hole in his drywall.
“Everything alright?” He directs the question at me.
“Give us a minute? Please?” I plead with my eyes. With a nod and one last look at Dino, he pulls the door shut again.
“Christian, her boyfriend, thought it was a good idea to make Maria part of the initiation of a few new gang members. Apparently they had to watch and take turns in a gang rape.”
I watch as the big man sinks down on the small step, his bald head in his hands, and my heart aches for him. I understand his pain.
“Maria says Jonas objected from the moment the three kids entered the hotel room, but Christian threatened to cut her up if they didn’t participate. Apparently when Christian and the other two kids were done, Jonas couldn’t go through with it. He ran out just as I walked in.”
I sink down on my haunches in front of Dino, my hands on his knees. “He’s a troubled kid, but he’s not a bad kid, Dino. Let me help.”
“Can you?” His ravaged face comes up and his eyes bore into mine.
“I sure as hell am gonna give it my best,” I tell him honestly.
“The police?”
“I haven’t given them a full statement yet, but I will. I’m gonna give them all I know, but I wanted you to be prepared. Whatever happens, I promise I’ll do my best by your boy.”
The tears that I’ve held in finally spill over. I literally ache for this man, who doesn’t know that this is only the beginning of the agonizing path he’s forced to walk.
“Good,” he says, his voice cracking. “No more excuses. We’re gonna do this right.” Almost distractedly, he brushes at the tears on my cheek.
I carefully suggest to him we both go talk to his son and convince him to turn himself in. After a pregnant pause, he gives in.
“Come on. Let’s get cleaned up,” I say, trying to get up gracefully, despite my creaking knees. I reach to grab Dino’s hand and pull him up on his feet. His massive body standing so close makes me feel unusually small. Most men I can look straight in the eye but with Dino I have to tilt my head back. I’m not used to that; for the first time I consider whether that is maybe part of the reason I generally bristle in his presence. My size and my attitude are usually large enough to ward off anyone I choose to, but for some reason I think neither of those do much to scare off Dino.
Shaking once to clear my head, I move past him to open the door and still holding onto his hand, I drag him past a slightly confused Ike, up the stairs to the bathroom. I scour through the small linen closet and running the tap, I wet two washcloths with cold water before turning back around. The look on his face is intense as I hand him one and use the other to scrub at my face—and hide my blush. He’s always seen straight to the core of me.
From the corner of my eye, I see him mopping his own face, but his eyes never waver. They stay focused on me.
“And who looks after you?” he suddenly asks, instantly freezing my motions and with one simple question, stripping a layer of protection from my soul.
CHAPTER FOUR
Dino
The only good part of this day is my baby girl’s face when I tell her she can stay the night with her friends.
Gunnar catches me coming down the stairs behind Pam, a worried look on his face. All I tell him is that I need to talk to my son and ask if Gina would be okay staying at their place.
“As long as you need,” he simply says, clamping a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll take care of her. We’ll swing by your place tomorrow morning to pick up her stuff. You take care of your boy.”
Just like that I’m leading Pam, in the car, through the streets of Portland. My house is dark by the time we get there, Pam pulling in behind me in the driveway.
Jonas doesn’t have a car. He wanted one, and if not for his mother taking off with the money I’d put aside for that purpose, he would’ve had one by now. Luckily we’ve got a pretty decent public transit system that gets him around. He’d taken the bus to his part-time job at the Subway on Brown Street, but he’d quit shortly after Jeannie left.
The house is quiet when I open the door, clicking on the lights before closing the door behind Pam. Weird—having her in my house. I’ve never really had anyone over here, except Gunnar a few times over the years. I quietly observe Pam as she takes in my home. Nothing much to see. For the sake of the kids I never changed anything, but now that I’m looking at the place through new eyes, I notice the lack of personal
ity and the mess.
“Jonas?” I call upstairs, but I already know there won’t be an answer. Still, I go up to check his room.
“Flown the coop?” Pam’s voice greets me as I come down the stairs. She’s sitting on the couch in the living room, folding the clean laundry I’d asked Jonas to put away. I’m not even sure she’s aware she’s doing it.
“So it would appear.” I’m not sure what to do with myself and start picking up discarded shoes, dirty dishes, Gina’s magazines, a hairbrush, and more random items that are left around the room.
“Why don’t you sit?” Pam says calmly and suddenly I’m pissed. Angry at Jonas, angry at Jeannie, and angry at Pam—but most of all, I’m angry at myself for not stepping in before he got himself into trouble. Jesus. I’m still doing it; using milder euphemisms to describe the gang rape my son was a part of. I sit down heavily on the coffee table and grab my head.
“I can’t even...” I start, but can’t finish the words. Pam places a comforting hand on my back, but I’m suddenly sick to my stomach.
I make it to the downstairs bathroom just in time to puke up my guts. I fucking hate throwing up, especially when my stomach has little in it to begin with. The instant headache burning behind my eyes is not helping, and the cold water I splash on my face only provides the bare minimum of relief.
A good fifteen minutes have passed by the time I walk into the kitchen, finding Pam rummaging through my fridge. I wasn’t really expecting her to stick around, so I’m a little surprised.
“You need something to eat,” she says, noticing me standing in the doorway before she turns away, cracking an egg over a small bowl.
“Not sure if that’s a good idea,” I point out, watching her as she pulls two pieces of bread from the toaster and dips them in the bowl. My stomach feels hollow and raw, and I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to eat a thing. Pam throws me a look over her shoulder.
“Trust me on this.”
The smell of the French toast she is making almost has me running for the bathroom again, but when she slides the plate in front of me, the toast topped with a thin skim of butter and a light sprinkle of cinnamon and sugar, I take a bite anyway.
