“You ain’t gotta tell me twice.”
The two brothers walked to the ice chests and grabbed themselves cans of Natural Light. Ali followed, but made herself a plate. The beverage wasn’t Owen’s first option. Probably wouldn’t even rank in his top 50 beers. Alas, a beer is a beer, spoke Owen’s mind. He cracked open the tab to help puncture the top of the can. Placing it against his lips, he took a drink. It was cold, but tasteless. Ben didn’t seem to be enjoying the taste either. The two stood there, silent as a stone, sipping away on their beverages. They were ready to get this thing over with. While the peace talks didn’t have any rules or decorum, there was only one regulation. The one who calls the meeting must also be the one who ends it.
And Scar was nowhere in sight.
15 of the longest minutes past. The brothers had finished two beers already, and were growing impatient.
“When is this shit gonna get started?” Ali questioned, throwing her paper plate into the plastic trash can by the tables. “This is fuckin’ boring.”
Ben frustratingly crushed an empty beer can in between his strong hands. “We’re waiting on Scar. Wherever the hell he is.”
Ali grabbed a beer out of the chest. “Natty Light. Nice.”
Owen chuckled at his daughter’s poor taste in beer. “Girl, you need to broaden your horizons.”
His daughter opened her brew. “Beer’s beer.”
Ben almost spat out his beer. “No, it ain’t.”
Using his peripheral vision, Owen kept a close eye on Clint and his crew. “I’m surprised Clint hasn’t come over here to start shit.”
Ben crushed his now empty can with his two strong hands. “I’m sure Scar told him to be good. Have you left him yet, Ali?”
“Yep. I’m done with that waste of space.”
“It’s about damn time.”
Ali nodded, leaving the conversation at that. She looked down and kicked a small stick out of boredom. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed something that caught her attention. “Oh, finally. Here he comes.”
Owen turned around to see Scar walking around from behind the house. He was pushing an elderly woman in a wheelchair. He seemed content, making inaudible words to the old lady. Owen recognized her immediately. “Here he comes.”
Ben rubbed the back of his neck. “Scar brought his mommy.”
When it came to the most approachable, friendliest and most accommodating Grayson, Luella was the one who fit the bill. She moved to the Adrienne area almost in her teens. Owen’s father said his older brother tried to court her, but she had her eyes set on the bad boy in town, which of course, was Scar and Clint’s father, Buddy.
While everyone knew that the Tomkins and the Graysons hated each other, not many knew that Luella and Owen’s mother were close friends, ever since high school. They were always kind and courteous to the adversarial families. When Roy Grayson’s disappearance became known and suspicion started to set in, the two mothers both agreed to set up dinner talks to get everything squared away. That was 15 years ago. Owen had difficulty believing it had been that long.
Scar wheeled his mother in front of Owen, Ben and Ali with a business-like mug. Up close, Luella had aged fairly badly. Her skin was a wrinkled mess. She could still walk, but her arthritis in her knees made it a tedious and painful experience. Her hair was a light gray, on its way to becoming a snow white. Her entire appearance was surprising, since she was the same age as Owen’s mother, which would have been 60 at this time. She voluntarily moved to an assisted living apartment complex, so that Mary could have the place to herself. She also wanted to be around others. She was a social butterfly, and living with her deadbeat daughter didn’t exactly give many opportunities to converse.
Luella extended her hand to Ali, who grasped it in turn. “Ali, my dear, you are looking so much like your mother. How are you doing?”
“I’m…well, I’m alright, I guess. Gettin’ better.”
“That’s good to hear. And how’s my grandson? I haven’t seen him in quite a while. Scar usually takes him to visit me, but I haven’t seen him in a while.”
“Sorry, ma,” answered Scar. “Been busy.”
“Oh hush, your father would say the same crap when he didn’t feel like coming home from his philandering. Ali, how’s Austin?”
“He’s doin’ good, ma’am. Full of energy.”
“I’m sure he is. With who his mommy and daddy are, I’m sure he’s jumping off the walls.”
Luella turned her attention to the man standing next to Ali. “Ben, Ben, Ben, you have grown way more than I remember back when you boys were in high school. You were a scrawny little thing. Back during football games, I was afraid a gust of wind would blow you away.”
“I hit a pretty good growth spurt after high school. Plus, the Army bulked me up a little bit,” responded Ben, half-smiling.
“That’s right. You went straight to the Army as soon as you graduated. Good man. We’re all glad we had one of Adrienne’s own dealing justice to them terrorists.”
“Yeah, that’s one of way of putting it, I suppose.”
“And we are also mighty glad you are the man protecting us folks here in Adrienne. We couldn’t ask for a better chief of police.”
Ben downplayed her praise while Owen rolled his eyes. He couldn’t pick out what words were genuine adulation and what were pure bullshit. Granted, she likely was impressed by how Ben made out. All she remembered of him was what she saw in high school when she attended the football games and Scar’s personal opinion of him.
Slowly, without moving her head, her eyes found the unready Owen. Her wrinkled hands gripped the ends of the armrests weakly. He wasn’t prepared for this whatsoever. There were many years to prepare, and he spent that time hoping that she may pass away so that he could avoid this confrontation. Alas, here she was. The time of reckoning was nigh.
“Owen...it’s been 15 years,” Luella said, glumly.
“It has.”
“Your mother and I set up a luncheon 15 years ago, after Roy disappeared. This boy behind my wheelchair came all the way from College Station and was ready to cut you up into tiny pieces, or so he said. But it was your mother and I who set this up to avoid any violent actions. When I asked you then if you knew where Roy was, you said no.”
Owen felt his heart throb and his stomach ache. “What? What did you want me to say, huh? The truth? I wouldn’t have made it to my truck without Scar and every other Grayson coming after me.”
“Nah, you wouldn’t have, bitch,” suddenly boomed Clint, appearing behind Owen along with Nicky.
Owen hastily spun around. “Shut the fuck up, Clint. Your little boy ass wouldn’t have done shit.”
Clint’s chest puffed like a blowfish in the ocean. “I’ll fuckin’ kill your ass right now, faggot.”
As weak as he was, Owen was still ready for a second round with Clint. Something about Clint shot his testosterone up into turbo mode. However, Ben placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. “This ain’t the time, man.”
“No, it is not,” Luella affirmed. “I didn’t really expect you to be so easily provoked, Owen.”
“It’s kinda hard not to when I am looking in the face of the boy who beats my little girl.”
Scar chimed in. “It ain’t any different than looking in the face of a man who killed my brother.”
Owen looked Scar in the eyes and swallowed. He would have to finally explain what happened and his reasoning not only to Scar and Clint, but to their mother, who still loved Roy unconditionally, even though she knew of his drug dealing and extorting. After 15 years of wonder and worry, the truth came out to her. Owen tried to think of a scenario where Ali or Austin’s fate was unknown for years, but it was immediately depressing. It was a lot to take in for Luella, especially for a woman whose body clearly wasn’t able to take much.
Luella rubbed and stared at her wrinkled hands. She was doing her best not to get emotional. “Owen, please, tell me wh
at happened. I don’t want any gory or violent details or anything like that. You be truthful. That’s all I’m asking.”
He did as she asked, even getting into the backstory of why they were in that position in the first place. As he spoke, Owen’s eyes wandered, but he didn’t look at Ali. It was perhaps difficult for her to hear the story again, but he wondered if hearing it last night gave her a closure and a sense of resolve. Either way, he still didn’t want to look at her. It was a tale that put great shame on him.
As he told the story, Clint and Nicky walked from behind Owen and stood by Luella. The second cousin Gail listened from by his grill. Clint noticeably stood away from Scar. When Owen discussed Roy’s death, Scar’s jaw clenched. Surprisingly, Luella stayed calm, though a stray tear fell from her cheek. When done, there was a lengthy silence, besides Clint cracking his knuckles and making clicking noises with his mouth.
Luella broke the stillness. “It was quick, then?”
“As quick as I could do it.”
Clint couldn’t take it anymore. His psychotic impulses took control, causing his body to attack Owen with the same knife that he was almost stabbed with yesterday. Owen was ready to counter, but Ben saw it coming from the start. Swiftly, Ben tackled and disarmed Clint with relative simplicity. He struggled mightily, but Ben had been trained to perform these actions with ease. With Clint chest down on the green lawn, Ben had his arms behind his lower back. If he had brought handcuffs, Clint’s wrists would have been easily bound.
Ben, even with his overpowering strength, still struggled with the wormy and elusive Clint. He looked over at Luella. “You better do something about him!”
Scar walked over to the two, motioning to his mother that he had it under control. Owen’s arms and legs tensed, but Scar focused on Ben. “Release him and I’ll take care of him.”
“You better. Or else I will call backup and his little ass is going to spend the night in jail. Coming after Owen with a knife during this? That’s bullshit.”
Grabbing Clint by the arm with relative ease, Scar lightly shoved him toward Nicky and their mother. Clint immediately turned around to hop back into the fray with Ben, but Scar pushed him back.
Her son’s actions caused Luella to snap. “Clinton Grayson! That’s enough! There’s no fighting here!”
“I ain’t fuckin’ eight years old, Ma. I’ll do what the fuck I want!”
Ali also grew irritated. “Clint, do what your god damn mom tells you what to do!”
“Fuck you, bitch! I’ll slap your stupid cunt ass around too!”
It happened in an instant. Scar’s face grew so angry and red that he almost appeared to be in pain. He clenched his right fist and swung at Clint. His right hook was so fast that his arm was a blur. His fist, like a sledgehammer, made a sickening thud on Clint’s jaw as bone met bone. At least two teeth flew from his open mouth, along with a large string of saliva. Stumbling and in a complete stupor, Clint’s eyes glazed and blood poured down his bottom lip.
But Scar wasn’t done. He was typically easygoing, but was known to have a brutal temper, and it seemed the vulgar word Clint used to describe Ali triggered that wrath. With his massive hands, Scar grabbed the sides of Clint’s head, then drove his own forehead into his brother’s nose. The sound of the bridge of Clint’s nose crackling sent unpleasant shivers down Owen’s spine.
The face of Clint had become a crimson mask. He melted to the ground. Scar, still on edge, was ready and eager to continue his own form of unrelenting destruction. Luella, screaming for her sons to cease the fight, had even made a halfhearted attempt to get up and stop this, but her body wouldn’t allow it. This just wasn’t a mere scrap between brothers. This had turned personal.
Before Scar had a chance to deliver further blows, Nicky shot out in front of him, pushing him away from Clint’s half-conscious body. “That’s enough, man.”
“Get the fuck out of my way, Nicky.”
“Come on, man. What the fuck are you doing?”
“He called her a…” snapped Scar, his voice trailing off.
Why is he protecting Ali? Owen was thoroughly confused. Scar beat his own brother, a Grayson, to protect the integrity of a Tomkins. It made him question his own resolve. Scar burst into action before he did. His daughter was called a cunt, and yet, he did nothing but stand there. He shook it off, knowing deep within his own heart and soul that he would have done something about it. It’s just Scar beat him to the punch.
Nicky and Scar bickered, but eventually the conversation softened. Clint slowly got up from the ground and walked away, his back dirty with dead grass and dirt. The front of his shirt near his collar was dark red. Opening the ice chest, he grabbed a couple of beers. Drops of blood painted the ice chest lid. Cracking open one of the aluminum canned beverage, he nonchalantly walked into the house, almost as if he was in zero pain from getting smashed by his brother. Clint’s pain tolerance was something else.
With his departure, there was nothing but an awkward and lengthy silence. Both sides were unsure what to do or how to commence. Clearing his throat to bring noise and life back into the talks, Scar turned around and slowly walked to Ben with his hands in his pockets. “So, how long you known?”
“What?”
“Don’t play dumb. I can tell. You knew about Roy too. So, how long?”
Ben’s face stayed emotionless. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s the truth.”
Scar inched closer, putting his face close to Ben’s. “You can keep playing this game if you want. Your brother just confessed to a murder. What are you going to do about it, eh?”
Ben had nothing to say. His poker face reigned supreme.
“Hmm, of course you ain’t got a thing to say. But you should know I am smarter than you.” Scar pulled something off of the back of Luella’s wheelchair. In his hand was a cell phone. He pressed something on the screen before displaying it to the brothers. “You see, I’ve been recording this shit from the start. I got Owen in all of his graphic detail telling what he did to Roy. Now, I’ve got evidence that you knew about it and yet, you sit here and don’t do a damn thing. You’re a sworn lawman. The god damn chief of this town. Shit, I can tell by the way you look at me that you’ve known for a while. Keeping that secret must break your back. Especially knowing what would happen if that secret leaked out. I mean how does it feel keeping your brother safe? Your brother, the town fuckin’ drunk.”
“Shut the fuckin’ hell up, Scar,” Ali implored with vulgarity.
Scar sneered. “You’re the one who called him that a few weeks back. Remember? Out in the woods when we had that bonfire blazing? You said, fuck that Owen. He’s the town motherfuckin’ drunk. I know you remember.”
Ali just huffed, not looking her father’s way. Owen understood why she didn’t want to look upon him. She was embarrassed. Ali was on a new path to right her wrongs. Knowing that made Owen forgiving her comment that much easier.
Scar looked back to Ben, waiting for a response. It was Owen who interjected with his own words. “Keep Ben out of this. What do you want, Scar?”
Even though he was just a couple steps away, Scar took his time meandering toward Owen before replying. His patterns resembled his eldest brother’s movements before he stuck him in the neck. “What do I want? Well, I’d like my brother back. That’s for damn sure. I guess you best be findin’ a way to resurrect him.”
Owen didn’t have time for Scar’s sarcastic quips. “Really. What do you want?”
“You know, if he wasn’t dead, there’d also be two little Grayson girls running around, because his woman wouldn’t have left. They may have had more children eventually. Maybe even some boys to carry on the name. But the girls that did exist, well, they are probably gone from our lives forever. I’m sure my ma would love to see her first grandchildren.”
“I don’t even know who his wife and kids are, if you are asking me to find them, then-”
“That ain’t what I am asking. It just makes sense that the best way to kill all of us off is to erase our bloodline. You killed Roy before he had any boys, so-”
Owen countered Scar’s interruption with his own. “That is bullshit! I can tell you right now, Scar, and you, Luella, that I didn’t kill Roy because of who he was. I did it because I was protecting my little girl.”
Scar was ready to retort, but his mother cut him off. “Let him finish, Scar.”
“I’d already lost my god damn woman to an overdose. I was probably on my way there too with all my fucking using and selling of that shit. I wanted a new start with my daughter, so that maybe she can be raised away from all the drugs and violence. And yeah, before you start shit, I know I failed in that. I stayed out too late, womanized, and drank myself to a damn oblivion most every night. But I still love my daughter just as much as I did back then. I wasn’t going back to that life. And by not going back, means I wasn’t going to die either.”
“This is fucking riveting,” mocked Scar. “Go on.”
“Cut the shit, Scar. If you were in a kill or be killed scenario with Austin’s future on the line, you would do the same thing.”
“I wouldn’t have ever been in your stupid situation to begin with.”
“But you see my point. I had a gun drawn on me. If I died, I don’t even know where Ali would be today. She would have been raised in foster homes, because my mom didn’t last very long from the cancer that got her, and Ben was shipped off.”
“You still killed my brother.”
“I did what I had to.”
“You killed my fucking brother!”
“And I would do it again to protect my family!”
Owen had yelled that quite loudly. Scar’s blunt bitterness for his brother’s death kept riling Owen up. It wasn’t exactly anger that he was feeling, but more of a conviction. Of course Scar wouldn’t listen, but he did what he must. Killing Roy was what he had to do. He didn’t want to die, and his death would have meant that his daughter was no longer protected by him. The two went hand in hand. By the way he was acting, Owen was sure Scar believed that he committed the murder because his brother was a Grayson. It must be difficult to accept Owen’s reasoning, since the two families were always wanting to rip each other apart. He would probably feel the same way if Scar killed Ben or something of that sort. This wasn’t something that a man who was as loyal to his family as Scar could easily get over.
Comin' Home to You Page 28
