Christmas With the Convict (Bringing Home Trouble)

Chapter 6

CHASE

It’s Christmas Eve.

That never used to mean anything to me. It does now.

Wendy and I are up at sunrise. We spent the night warm wrapped in each other’s naked bodies. I could stay in the basement all day with her, but we know it’ll be for the best if we get up and moving before anyone finds us down here.

After everything that happened yesterday, I know I shouldn’t push my luck. It was pure chance that Duke took that wallet. If Rick had lost it somewhere and it never turned up, there would have been nothing to stop Wendy’s dad from pinning it on me.

I still feel like my life is teetering on the edge. One wrong move and, it won’t be just me that goes down, but I’ll pull Wendy with me. We’ve gone too far now, done and said too much for there to be a clean break if shit hits the fan.

And if Richard Bettencourt has anything to say about it, shit will come.

All I can do is keep my mouth shut, mind my manners, and survive the next couple of days. Wendy flirted with the idea of leaving in the middle of the night together, packing up her car and hitting the road. I won’t let her do that.

I know that she hates them all right now. I know that she feels betrayed, but this is salvageable for her. She doesn’t know what it’s like to be out there in the world without a family, without people to look out for you.

And I have nothing to give her but my love…

If I can still help it, I’ll do what I can to keep her old life whole.

We suit up and go for a walk in the snow. Uncle Rick loaned me a pair of boots and a coat while I’m here. The set is probably worth more than my long-gone truck.

Wendy skips along toward the trees, kicking up snow that catches the day’s first rays of sunlight.

Everything sparkles and shines when I’m around her.

Colors show secret shades they’ve kept from me all my life.

The smell of pine and pure snow is cool and crisp with each breath.

I feel present. Alive. My laugh even sounds different when I’m laughing with her.

But as we head back to the house and up that long, wide drive, the world reminds me how cold it really is.

“Don’t come any closer!”

Richard Bettencourt is standing outside in the snow.

He has a shotgun braced against his shoulder.

“Dad!” Wendy shrieks and immediately jumps in front of me. “What the hell is wrong with you!?”

My mind kicks into that strange, adrenaline-injected gear reserved for riots and prison fights. I linger on the gun’s wooden stock—how smooth and shiny it looks—and spot the kids, their mother, and Wendy’s aunt in the house’s big window.

Everyone else is outside standing tentatively behind Wendy’s father. His blue eyes are as violent as ever. They don’t move. They don’t blink. They don’t track anything except the target at the end of the gun’s barrel.

Me.

“I got his files, Wendy. You think I wouldn’t find out, convict? I called my buddy with the DA as soon as you got here,” Richard yells in a puff of breath. “I know what you did. Get away from him. He’s dangerous .”

Wendy balls up snow and hurls it at him. “You asshole! It’s none of your business. He served his time!”

“Once a criminal, always a criminal!”

“Stop it!”

Once a cop, always a cop.

“Do you want to know what he did?”

“Dad,” Wendy cries, falling against me. “Stop, please!”

How different are we, really?

“Do you want to know what kind of man you brought into our home!?”

“Dad!”

“I stabbed a man to death…”

Wendy catches her breath in her throat. She collapses into the snow sobbing.

One by one, I meet the eyes of her family.

They already heard it from Richard. I can tell by the way they look at me, but Wendy is going to hear it from me. I should have told her before I ever got in her car.

“In the chest.” I nod, hands out at my sides. “I was at a bar, and he cracked a bottle over my friend’s head. It started a brawl, and I took his knife and stabbed that man until my arm was numb. They ruled it voluntary manslaughter. Self-defense but—”

“ Self-defense, ” Richard spits. “You should be in jail for life…”

“I wanted to hurt him,” I say. “You’re right. I was angry. So mad that I couldn’t see anything but the thing I wanted to kill.”

I drop to my knees, holding Wendy from behind.

“But that’s not me anymore.” I look right at her father, right down the barrel of the gun. Slowly, I get Wendy to her feet. She’s shaking and crying, whispering words I can’t understand. “I did my time, sir. Shouldn’t that be the end of it? Haven’t you ever made a mistake? It was almost seven years ago—”

“I don’t give a fuck if it was in another lifetime.” Richard is closing the distance. I step in front of Wendy. “You’re not setting foot in this house again.”

The sound of him racking a shell into the gun stops my heart.

I don’t move.

I put my hands up and wait for this man to decide my fate.

I won’t be that person again.

“ NO! ”

Many things happen at once.

Wendy throws herself in front of me and at the same time, her father’s finger moves over the trigger. Somewhere in the trees, a group of birds fly from their hiding place.

The shot echoes like ghosts in the woods.

I’ve got the gun by the front grip, pointed straight up in the air. Richard is on his back looking up at me as if the only logical thing that happens next is I turn on the gun on him.

I throw it into the snow and help Wendy up.

“Are you alright?”

“You see!?” Richard wails, pointing his finger at me. “He attacked me! He’s violent!”

Wendy growls like a wild animal and turns on him. “You tried to fucking shoot him!”

I hold her by the waist as she tries to claw at her father.

The others have stepped in now. Her cousin has the gun, stepping back and keeping it pointed away from everyone. Rick and Wendy’s brother-in-law help Richard up, pressing him toward the house.

“Leave!” Richard roars. “I’ll have the sheriff here in ten fucking minutes if you don’t leave. NOW! I’ve got your keys, Wendy! You’re not going anywhere! You hear me!? You’re staying right fucking here!” His hoarse, cracking voice fades as they get him inside.

Wendy is weeping, screaming, desperately trying to lunge forward and rip her father’s head off. I pull her into a hug, holding her tightly and soaking up her tears.

“He’s crazy,” she sobs. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re not leaving.”

“Wendy—“

“No. No. It’s not fair!”

“ Wendy .” I grab her face and hold her gaze. “He’ll call his friends. They’ll come, and there’s nothing I can do or say to get them on my side.”

“I’ll vouch for you…”

“It won’t matter.”

“The others will vouch for you!”

I shake my head. “They won’t. And it wouldn’t matter.”

Uncle Rick steps up behind Wendy. He shrugs as if to say I’m sorry before nodding at me.

I close my eyes and press my head against hers. “I have to go.”

“I’m coming with you.”

Rick takes her by the shoulders.

“No,” I say. “You have to stay, Wendy.”

“I can’t. I can’t,” she pleads and holds onto me. “I want to be with you.”

I pull her in for one last hug and whisper in her ear. “We’ll be together, I promise. Read my journal. Read it, please. Give things time to cool down. Read it…”

She kisses my lips.

It lasts so long that I can’t breathe. I don’t want to breathe…

Finally, she wrenches herself away, storming off into the house.

Uncle Rick laughs nervously before shaking his head.

“Keep the clothes,” he says, holding out his hand. “My brother… He’s a complicated man.”

“I don’t give a shit about your brother. All I care about is her.”

Rick nods toward his offered hand. “I know, Chase. I won’t let her do anything stupid, alright?”

When I finally shake his hand, I feel crisp bills slide into my palm.

“You can borrow those.” He smiles. “Merry Christmas.”

He heads back toward that giant house I’ll never see again.

Through the big windows, I can see the chaos unfolding. The kids are crying. Wendy’s mom is in the kitchen having a drink. Richard passes between different panes of glass, still fuming and throwing his arms up.

No matter where I look, I don’t see Wendy.

In my hand are ten one-hundred-dollar bills.