Page 62 of Xavier

Her eyes grew watery, looking as though I’d just struck her with my own hand across her cheek. I wanted to feel bad at her stumbling back from me, shocked to hear something so hateful spilling out of my mouth.

The truth of the matter was that I reallydidn’tcare. Not when I’d be lied to and misinformed about a situation that definitely was supposed to involve both parents in making a decision on what was best for our child.

I should’ve been there when the police report was filed and when my son had to recount the entire goddamn thing to a room full of strangers with badges. Or afterward, when I was sure he was feeling so raw and exposed it was a wonder he didn’t walk right out into the middle of traffic.

“If you tell me Dan fucking knew before I did, I’m going to lose it,” I gritted through my teeth.

“He’s myhusband, Xavier. I wasn’t going to lie to him about what was going on.”

“No, just lie to the father of your child, instead.” I tightened my hands into fists.

I forced myself to step away from her before I yelled something even worse at her; my adrenaline was spiking so high that my vision was beginning to tunnel. This was the same kind of intense aggression I felt whenever I was thrown into combat.

A kill-or-be-killed type situation that was slowly morphing into murderous intent. Wherever that priest was, he better count his fucking days because I was coming for him. No matter what jail cell he was rotting inside. I’d pay him a little visit.

“Xavier,” Kate choked out. “Stop. Okay? It’s done and over with.”

“Where is he? Which jail?”

When I turned to her, she was shaking her head. “He’s not?—”

I ripped open the door to my car before she even got the sentence out. My thoughts were thundering around me—repeating what an utter failure the justice system really was. Of course the priest walked. Of course they probably transferred him to another parish. Of course my son would never receive any justice.

At that point, I didn’t care if I went to jail. At least my son wouldn’t have to constantly be afraid and looking over his shoulder.

Kate raced over to me, grabbing the handle from the outside before I could pull it open. She was screaming something at me while I turned the key that I’d left in the ignition, letting the car roar to life.

“Stop!” She grabbed a hold of the front of my shirt, practically throwing herself over my lap to stop me from grabbing at the gearshift. “He’s dead! He died!”

My body froze.

“He’s dead, Xavier!” she kept repeating. “He killed himself. Please, get out of the car!”

Her nails dug into my arm, using that infamous mom-strength that all women seemed to possess at the most crucial of times, in order to yank me out of the car. I faltered, pitched sideways and crashed onto the driveway, crushing my shoulder in the process.

The sharp and sudden pain was enough to temporarily break me from whatever tunnel vision and hair-brained plan I’d had in going up to Kate’s church in order to bust down the doors anddrag whatever white-collared fool I could get my hands on to interrogate.

Kate’s sobs were what brought me back to reality, along with her nails biting into my skin still.

“I’m sorry,” she kept repeating. “I knew you’d go to jail. I’m sorry.”

Behind her, Dan hovered just a few feet from where we were, clearly lost on what to do. He’d probably sprinted out as soon as he’d seen her trying to yank me out of the car. Or who knows, maybe it was when we’d begun yelling at each other about our shared responsibility in failing to protect our only child in all of this.

“When,” I croaked.

Reading my cryptic question for what it was, she answered, “Right after he was arrested. He hung himself in his cell.”

“Coward,” I spat out, while pushing myself up from the driveway.

My shoulder screamed from me rotating it a few times to check to make sure I hadn’t blown it out of the socket. Outside of the dizzying pain, it would be fine with an ice pack and a few Tylenol.

“He needed you here,” Kate sniffled. “Not in a jail cell.”

Much the same mantra I’d told myself yesterday after finding out. How funny the way things changed in the blink of an eye.

“You never told me,” I said.

“I was going to. Eventually.”

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