Page 42 of The Shadow

“He didn’t see humans; he didn’t see his wife and daughter. He saw—I don’t even know. We couldn’t do anything right. My mom was always cheating on him or stealing his money according to him and I was just like her… a whore, something he’d say to my face when I was barely big enough to remember.”

“Jesus.” Harvey sits up like he’s ready to go to war for me.

“All that translated into abuse. Physical, emotional, verbal… he would accuse us of things, conspiring against him, then lock us in one of the bedrooms together for hours or even days at a time. And when he’d hit us—” Harvey intakes a sharp breath. “It was like he knew exactly how to do it where nobody would see or if they did, it would be easily explained away.”

“Fucking coward.” It’s evident by the look in his eyes right now that this is difficult for him to hear as I imagine it would be for anyone, but it’s more than that; it’s a spark of white-hot rage.

“But one person noticed, my next-door neighbor, Jaxson Marquis.” I smile just saying his name. “I met him when we were both nine. He moved in with his dad who was just a different form of an abuser. He was an alcoholic, the spend his entire paycheck in one weekend type of alcoholic who made no effort to be a father and provide for his son. My father hated him and in turn, he hated that I was friends with his son. He’d say he’s going to grow up and be a no good degenerate just like his father.” It’s impossible to hold back a few stray tears that fall as I talk about Jaxson.

“Tell me more about him,” Harvey urges softly, his expression serious but patient.

“He was so smart.” I laugh. “He taught me about computers and coding. Neither of us had one, of course, so we’d sneak up to the public library and he’d show me stuff. That went on for a few summers until we were about thirteen and we got kicked out because we hacked the library’s national database.” I giggle, swiping at a stray tear.

“Whoa.” Harvey laughs. “I can’t imagine you getting kicked out of anywhere.” He brushes my hair behind my ear and I take the opportunity to lean into his palm.

“He was a genius, truly. Knowing what I know now about computers and systems and coding… he was decades beyond his age. He taught me everything he knew and I ate it up. It was a welcome distraction from our reality but it also felt like a way out. Kids like us—we weren’t encouraged by anyone around us to go to college. The teachers just wanted to push us through, distracted by the overcrowded classrooms and the bad kids who caused disturbances. Everyone but my mom, that is.”

“She believed in you.” It’s not a question but I nod my head anyway.

“Always. She’d tell Jax and me, when my dad wasn’t around, that we were going to go to college together someday and when we’d tell her she was dreaming, she’d shut us down instantly. It was really the only time she was stern with us; she never allowed any self-sabotage or self-doubt talk in her presence.”

“Did she get to see you two go to college?”

“She did.” I smile through the tears. “But that’s when things went south. As the years went on, things only got worse and I knew that if I really wanted to pursue the dream of college, there was no way in hell I could leave my mom alone with my dad.”

I glance at Harvey, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he stares at me.

“Nobody believed us,” I say as a fresh batch of hot tears tumble down my cheeks, Harvey’s hand squeezing mine so tight. “When we finally got the courage to go to the police and report my dad, they said there was nothing they could do. Unless they were called and witnessed the abuse themselves, there was nothing… He had managed to manipulate everyone around us for so long that it was hopeless… completely and utterly hopeless. And when he found out—” I tip my head back, trying to stop the deluge of tears but it’s no use.

“I’m so sorry, Aspen. I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I’d do anything to take it from you.” He brushes a tear from my face. I don’t try to go on. I sit for several minutes as Harvey tugs me against his body. I sob, allowing myself to relive the memories for the first time since it happened.

“When my mom and I went to the police, we told them everything. We had been diligent, documenting cuts and bruises and broken bones over the six months leading up to going to them. I even had audio recordings of my dad screaming, threatening to kill my mom in the other room. The abuse got worse and so did the threats until finally one day, she didn’t stand back up when he hit her. I had to wait until he left to help her, pulling her into her bedroom where I prayed she wouldn’t die. I was terrified so I called Jaxson and he rushed over. When he saw my mom, he dialed 9-1-1 before I could stop him.”

“It was a nightmare. The cops did finally arrest him and charged him with second-degree felony assault. I was so excited and relieved. I remember running to Jaxson’s trailer when I got the good news but it was short-lived.”

“What happened?”

“My dad happened,” I say, still in disbelief after all these years. “I have no idea why or what happened, but the judge decided he was going to throw out the case or at most, charge him with a misdemeanor which means he would be home in a matter of days and this time I knew… I knew he wouldn’t stop until he killed her.”

Harvey’s hand twitches in mine and I look back at him, only he’s not looking at me this time. His eyes are cast down, his jaw tense.

“I couldn’t abandon her to face him alone so I told Jaxson everything about what my dad had been doing to us all those years and he promised me that we would find a way to make it stop. So that’s when we came up with… the plan.”

“The plan?”

“Jaxson hacked into the judicial records to try and see why my dad’s charges had been downgraded but he couldn’t find anything obvious so we decided to do some digging. We found out through my dad’s criminal record—which I had no idea was as extensive as it was—that he had ties to some local organized crime. He had years and years of arrests and charges relating to low-level petty crimes but never seemed to actually get in trouble or do any time. That’s when we noticed the judge in charge of almost all of his cases was the same judge that was handling his case now. The honorable Dean Sarco,” I say his name with disgust. “It was clear he was involved with this organized crime ring somehow.”

“Taking bribes, looking the other way, reducing charges…” Harvey lists off several correct assumptions. “Not the first time I’ve seen high-level officials involved in shit like this.”

“We found so much evidence, pictures of him at parties with escorts and drugs, associations and affiliations with the kind of criminals that end up in federal prison doing life sentences. So we blackmailed him.”

“Holy shit, what? How?” Harvey sits up straighter, a look of shock on his face.

“It was easier than I expected. We sent all of our evidence to the judge anonymously so he knew it was a legitimate threat. Once he saw the damming evidence, he brought the charges back up to first-degree felony assault and convicted him.”

“Holy shit.” Harvey starts to laugh. “Holy shit, I am pleasantly impressed.”

“That’s not the end.” My voice stays steady. “It was really only the beginning. The maximum sentence for a second-degree felony assault charge in New York is three to seven years and he got five. It wasn’t enough. I knew that he’d come after my mom and me once he got released. I tried to convince myself that we’d have a new life and a new identity by then, but I couldn’t take the risk that he’d find us.”

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