by Freya Barker
Wapi is sitting on the couch, trying to distract himself with some action movie on TV, but every two seconds his eyes flit to the hallway at the back.
“Ready for a beer, cub?” I ask, but he shakes his head. He’s still looking a little green around the gills.
I didn’t think it was going to take hours. I can’t imagine what they’d be discussing all this fucking time. Looking for distraction myself, I plop down on the couch next to the kid.
Ten minutes later, I can hear the office door open. Momma and Nosh must’ve been lying in wait as well, because both their heads pop out of the kitchen. Kaga comes walking toward us, a stern look on his face.
“You ready?”
That’s enough to have Wapi running for the can again. While we wait for him, I try to read Kaga’s expression but it tells me nothing.
Smoke billows out of my office when Kaga opens the door. The fuckers know better than to light up inside. Momma’s going to have their hide.
“Probation for the cub,” Kaga announces from behind my desk. That doesn’t exactly bode well. “An additional six months, tacked on to the year he has left to go, before he’s eligible to be patched in.” The kid looks like he’s about to cry. Hope he sucks it up, because that alone could have the brothers change their minds. “As for Chief, the vote was unanimous.”
I wait for him to tell me the fucking verdict but he stays silent. Then Honon starts heading for the door, putting his hand on my shoulder in passing. “Chief.” Next is Yuma, then Lusio, Nodin, as one by one my brothers file out the door, clapping my shoulder and calling me, “Chief.”
Last is Kaga. “Chief,” he says to me, a big grin on his face.
“Took you fucking long enough,” I grumble, to hide the fact I’m moved by the gesture.
“Nah,” he says, still smiling. “We were pretty much decided before you closed the damn door behind ya. Thought we’d make you sweat a little. Oh, and by the way, you need a better deck of cards and you’re out of good scotch.” His laughter follows him out of the office.
Bastards left my office trashed.
CHAPTER 31
LUNA
“Are you sure you want me to come?”
Ouray lifts his head from the sink where he’s just spitting out a mouthful of toothpaste. He looks at me in the mirror.
“To Monticello? Of course you’re coming.” He says it so matter-of-factly, so confidently, I find myself nodding automatically.
“Okay.”
But when I back out of the bathroom, my stomach is still in knots. I don’t know why I got cold feet all of a sudden, but as I was putting on what I consider to be respectable clothes, I started worrying that maybe we wouldn’t be coming home with Ahiga.
“Luna?” Ouray walks out behind me and stops me at the top of the stairs. “It’ll be all
right,” he says, his large hands tilting my face up. “I promise.”
Suddenly the tears are right there, threatening to fall, and I blink furiously to force them back. Ahiga is getting dressed and could walk out of his room any minute. He doesn’t need to see me crying, he’s nervous enough as it is.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I’ve never had to leave a kid behind, because I have a kick-ass lawyer—who is very good at what he does—and because with you there, my odds are better than they ever were.” I roll my eyes at the last, but I do it smiling.
When Ahiga comes out of his room, I have myself well in control and slip from Ouray’s arms.
Hungry? Ouray says he’ll buy us breakfast at Durango Doughworks on the way. That gets me a raised eyebrow from Ouray—who never promised any such thing—but also a big grin and a thumbs-up from the boy. I call that a win.
An hour later, the dog is dropped off with Nosh, the box of donuts and the coffee from Doughworks are about done, and we’re almost halfway to Monticello.
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about, but...well, shit just kept happening.”
I look at him suspiciously. “What?”
“I spoke to Blackfoot, after you told me what happened to you.” My head automatically turns to check on Ahiga, who is quietly playing on his phone, which he’d been happy to have returned to him. “He can’t hear us, Sprite,” Ouray says quietly, putting a hand on my knee, which I immediately brush aside.
“What gave you the right to—”
“Hear me out. You can be pissed all you want after but hear me out. When you told me, I felt both furious and helpless. I’m not sure why I called Blackfoot, but I needed to do something. I know you haven’t talked to him about the incident since it happened, so you can’t know that he got hold of Superman that same night and damaged him good.”
That has me stumped. “Why wouldn’t he have told me that?”
“I’m guessing he didn’t want to open up any wounds. It really doesn’t matter, because although that may have been about what was done to you, it was mostly about him feeling helpless and needing to find some justice.”
“Did he know him? Keith? Did he know the guy?”
Funny, I’ve had the means and the resources to pursue this for many years now, but it was just easier to think of them as Superman and Freddy. More abstract and distant than an actual flesh and bone person with a name. Now I’m suddenly morbidly curious to find out.
“He didn’t but he found out. It never let him go, Sprite, walking away from that. So he did some digging and found out Superman was a fullback with the college football team. His real name was Kyle Topping.”
I’ve never heard of that name. Not that I hung out with the jocks or cheerleaders in college. I was a loner. “Wait, you said was. Does that mean?”
Ouray glances over and nods. “He died in 2006 of a brain tumor.”
“Oh.” I feel a little deflated. I’m not sure what I would’ve done with the information had he still been alive, but kicking at his gravestone isn’t going to do me any good. “And the other one?”
“Blackfoot was able to give me a few possible names. I managed to pare it down to one: Skip Chafin.”
That name sparks something. “I think I heard that name before.”
“Could well be. He was Kyle Topping’s teammate, and it turns out he was also a student advisor in your residence hall.”
A picture pops up of a handsome boy who helped me find my room my first day at college. Athletic build, brown hair, a shy smile I remember being taken with as he carried my suitcase up to my floor. Holy shit.
“I remember him. I never would’ve thought...I mean, he never would’ve occurred to me.”
Ouray’s hand reaches out for my leg again, and this time I tuck my palm under it and slip my fingers between his.
“You’re not mad?”
I think about that for a minute. I was, but now I don’t even know what I’m feeling. “I don’t think so.” That makes him chuckle softly. “I’m going to have to process this.”
“Well, I suggest you process fast, because I found out where Skip Chafin lives.”
“Where?” I ask the question, but the butterflies starting a riot in my stomach are evidence I already know the answer.
“He’s in Monticello, Sprite. It’s your call.”
My first reaction is regret I didn’t bring my weapon with me. I didn’t think it would be an appropriate addition to the respectable impression I was hoping to make. I’m not at all feeling respectable now. Ouray stays quiet while I process every emotion imaginable.
What do I want to do with the information? It’s not like I can—or even want to at this point—report the son of a bitch. Statute of limitations has long run out.
Exacting some revenge sounds appealing, but I’ve already let these men take so much of my life, do I really want to risk giving them more? I have too much to live for now.
I turn to check on Ahiga, who is still totally engrossed in whatever game he’s playing on his phone, before I look at Ouray.
“What does he do?”
“He’s a lawyer. A private family law practice.”
The laugh, semi-hysterical, bursts from my lips without warning, and it takes me a minute to reel it in. “Married?”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Ouray asks, throwing me a concerned look.
“Yes.”
“Okay. Yes, he’s married.”
He would be. I may not have been sure what I was feeling earlier, but I’m pretty convinced this is anger.
“I want to look him in the eye,” I announce, twisting in my seat as Ouray pulls in the parking lot outside the Child Services offices. “Skip Chafin—I want to look that rapist in the eye.”
A strangled sound comes from the back seat, and the next moment the back door is open, and Ahiga is running full speed across the parking lot, about to disappear around the side of the building.
OURAY
Before I know what the fuck is going on, I’m alone in the vehicle. Luna running like the wind after Ahiga, who suddenly darted from the car. No fucking way I’ll keep up with those two.
I reach over to pull Luna’s door shut and then half climb into the back seat to do the same with Ahiga’s door. As I’m climbing back behind the wheel, I notice his cell phone on the floor behind Luna’s seat and snag it.
The screen is open on his speech-to-text app, displaying Luna’s last words.
No fucking way.
I tear out of the parking lot, hoping I can intercept the boy before he goes to ground and we never find him again. Turning left behind the Child Services office, I scan up ahead and spot Luna diving through a hedge a block over. I drive by the spot and am able to see a park on the other side of the hedge. Whipping around the next right turn, I keep my fingers crossed I don’t run into a cop.
They’re sports fields, aside from a children’s playground, the grounds are wide open, and I can see Luna catching up on the boy in the outfield of the baseball diamond. I turn into the far parking lot, slam the Traverse in park, and take off running myself.
By the time I catch up with them—out of breath—both are rolling on the grass. Luna is on her back, her limbs wrapped around the boy, who is grunting and struggling to escape.
“Ahiga!” I yell his name, but it doesn’t register. “Luna, I’m gonna take him from you.”
I ignore the punches and kicks he throws and manage to wrangle him off Luna. Sitting my ass on the grass, I pull his back against mine, wrap my arms around him, pinning his to his side, and trapping his legs under mine.
“Honey,” Luna coos, now on hands and knees in front of him, trying to get his attention.
“He was listening in,” I explain. “Had that app open on his phone. Something you said triggered him.”
Surprise and then shock pales her face, but she holds it together and takes his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. “Baby, you need to listen to me. Ahiga, settle down.” She lets go of his face and starts signing furiously.
I was raped many years ago when I was in college. He starts shaking his head forcefully. She counters him by nodding. Yes. I never knew who he was, but Ouray found him.
“Meee...”
“No, honey,” she sighs, dropping her hands to her lap.
Ahiga squirms in my arms, trying to pull his hands free. “Okay, buddy,” I mumble next to his ear, releasing my hold just enough so he can slip them out.
Don’t make me go back there. I can’t go back there. Immediately his hands start repeating that sentence over and over again.
We would never send you back—never.
“Ask him if he knows that name, Luna,” I urge her gently. Her eyes fly up to mine, almost pleading.
“But that’s crazy. That’s...”
“I know it is, baby—ask him anyway.”
Her fingers shaking, she carefully forms the letters. S k i p C h a f i n, do you know who that is?
He nods his head.
It’s him—my foster father.
IT HAD TAKEN A BIT for Luna to convince Ahiga to get in the SUV with us. She had to promise she wouldn’t go knock on Chafin’s door today. Not yet. Not without Ahiga’s permission.
Of course we were late for our appointment, but the counselor was able to see us anyway.
Two hours later, we walk out with all the necessary paperwork signed. For a moment it looked like the boy was going to bolt again when the subject of Skip Chafin came up, but when the counselor told us there had been several complaints and the man was now under investigation, he calmed down.
Luna is quiet and I occasionally throw a glance in her direction as I navigate my way back onto the road home. It’s already been an exhausting day, and we’re only halfway through.
“Tired?” I ask her, looking for her hand in her lap.
“I am, and kinda numb. That was a lot to take in.”
“Sure as fuck was. I still can’t get my head around it. The universe has a sick sense of humor.”
“Hmmm. Is he listening?” she asks me, and I check the rearview mirror where I meet the boy’s alert eyes.
“Yup, he is.”
“Hey, Ahiga, are you hungry?”
“Yesss.”
“We’re gonna need some burgers, honey,” she says, scooting over and leaning her head on my shoulder.
By the time we get our order from the drive-thru, she’s fast asleep beside me.
“Are. You. Mad?” Every time I hear that mechanical voice I startle.
“No. Why would I be?”
“Listening. In. Running. Away.”
“The running away? If you promise never to do that again, then no. I almost had a heart attack just running half that baseball field, I don’t wanna do that again.” I throw him a wink in the rearview mirror and love hearing his monotone chuckle. “And I’m not mad about you listening in on our conversation, serves us right for talking in front of you.”
“C.H.A.F.I.N. Are. You. Mad. Him?”
“Livid. I’d like to rip the bastard limb from limb, but I won’t, ‘cause it would piss Luna off and she can be scary.” That has him laugh and I find myself liking his unique sound more and more.
It falls quiet for a few minutes and then I hear, “Sleep.”
“Sure. You have a nap, kid. I’ll get us all home.”
CHAPTER 32
LUNA
“I’m gonna need the name.”
Autumn’s lips are pressed in an angry slash on her face, but her eyes are welling up.
It’s been two weeks since I ended trussed up like a turkey in a cargo container, a week since I officially moved in with Ouray, and three days since our emotional trip to Monticello. It’s been eventful to say the least. This morning Ouray insisted on driving us to Aztec. I didn’t argue. I imagine this hasn’t been an easy time for him either, so if it makes him feel better to hover over Ahiga and me for a while, I’m not going to make a fuss.
We’ve stuck to talking about mundane, day-to-day things the past couple of days, all needing some time to process I guess, but this morning I was able to purge in Gary’s office and came out feeling much lighter. Even Ahiga seemed more interactive after his session. He’d been very quiet, sticking close to his bedroom and never far from Jack. Yesterday we caught that damn dog dragging his own bed from in front of the fireplace, all the way up the stairs, where he dropped it right outside the boy’s door.
Like I said, a lot going on. Which is why when Autumn called me earlier to see if I was interested in drinks at The Irish, I jumped at the chance to get out of the house. A girls’ night seemed like just the thing, but Ouray wasn’t ready to let me out of his sight yet, and came along. That turned out okay, because some of the other guys are here too, including Dylan, who’s been going stir-crazy being stuck in the office this past week. It’ll be at least another six weeks before he’ll even be considered to go back on the active roster. The guys are congregated around the bar, while us girls snagged a table.
I probably should’ve stopped at two beers, because my lips got loose after my fourth one. I ended up
spilling my story all over the table, including Wednesday’s discoveries.
“Not a chance,” I tell Autumn firmly. “This is about Ahiga. He gets to call the shots. I had twenty-four years to do something and chose not to. Had I done things differently then, I could’ve spared that boy the trauma he’ll have to live with for the rest of his life.”
The guilt over this threatened to choke me these past few days. Catching myself playing the what-if game, imagining how many others there might have been because I chose to stick my head in the sand. But Gary reminded me that as much as I can’t control some else’s actions, I can’t claim responsibility for them either.
I grab Autumn’s hand over the table. “I’m angry too, but I owe that boy, which is why he gets to take the lead on this.”
Bella promptly bursts out in tears, pregnancy hormones I guess, which has Jasper running to comfort her.
I feel a hand in my neck and tilt my head back to find Ouray looking down on me.
“You good?”
“I may have had a wee bit too much to drink.” I squeeze my thumb and index finger together to illustrate, making him chuckle.
“Ya think? Are you playing nice?” He nudges his head at the still sniffling Bella.
“I may have overshared,” I admit, wincing as I look around the table and see all eyes focused on me. “I should probably buy them a drink.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
I watch Ouray make his way back to the bar, only to return moments later with a tray of refills for everyone.
“Well, when you decide to open up, you really don’t hold back, do you?” Marya points out, taking a sip of her wine. “I thought I had a decent sob story to tell, but Jesus Hieronymus Christ, I’m just gonna take a number and hang at the back of the line.”
Just like that the heavy feeling at the table evaporates as we all burst out laughing. Even Autumn.
The next hour or so the mood is light until the men come over and first Jasper, then Keith take their significant others home.
