Page 108 of Retribution

I stand up and watch as they make their way to the exit of the court room. Willow turns back to look at me, for what may be the last time in a long time.

“I love you, Willow Breckenridge!” I shout loud and clear.

She smiles, a genuine smile which makes my heart skip a beat.

“I love you, DADDY!” she shouts back, a prideful grin spreads across my face. That word is the only think that’s holding my heart together right now. The fragile thread of my heart very nearly shattered tonight, and her faith is the only thing that can keep me strong.

Her body disappears and I slump against the side of the bench, bringing my knees up and dropping my head in between. I don’t have it in me right now to reassure anyone else, I don’t want anyone to ask my questions, I don’t want anybody’s sympathy. I need to get out of here.

“Harrison, take Indie home.” I bark, getting to my feet and facing them for the first time.

Indie sits with her hands in between her legs, her head down facing the floor and her trousers are soaked from tears. I don’t have the patience to take on anyone else’s grief right now apart from my own. Harrison looks at me with a skeptical look on his face and looks at Indie.

“Come on, Reed. We’re all here for you.” He tries to console me and now that the court case is done, I don’t need to keep up the brotherly act anymore.

“Take Indie home and get the fuck out of my life,” I growl, my patience already wearing thin.

“Don’t be like that man, I just wanna–” I shove away his nearing hand and look at him with disgust.

“What? You want to what, Harrison? Help? Look how far that’s gotten us. Do you see Willow standing here with us right now? I knew I should never have got in contact with you, you were a lost cause from the beginning!” Spit flies out of my mouth as the fury inside of me resides on him.

He flinches, taken aback from the harshness of my words. But I couldn’t care less. The sooner he’s out of my life, the better.

I’m going to tackle this on my own.

I don’t want to listen to any other comments from them, so I turn on my heel and charge out of the court.

I look up at the darkening sky, the stars beginning to shine through. I take in a harsh breath and cross the street. The City Hall stands before me, the reminder of only yesterday haunts me. The pathetic hope we all had, the short-lived joy we all felt, for it to be burned to ashes today.

I climb into my car and drive towards a bar out of town. After my last experience in a bar in the city, I don’t want to be interrupted tonight, I need to let go of myself and blow off this vile feeling of loss.

* * *

Billy’s Bar.

This will do.

I can’t quite remember much of the drive, my mind was busy preoccupied with scenarios of storming Rachel and Bill’s house, snatching Willow from them while I hold them at gunpoint. I really am debating taking extreme measures if it’s necessary.

There is this ruthless streak that you inhabit once you become a parent, the kind that mean you would take a bullet for your child, but you would also kill for them. Neither of them intimidates me, both I would do without taking a second thought if it meant keeping my daughter safe and protected.

I order an entire bottle of whiskey at the bar and a glass filled with ice. They looked at me like I’d grown two heads but when I slapped down three hundred-dollar bills on the sticky bar and they scurried off to the back to retrieve the goods.

I stopped off at a gas station on the way to get some cigarettes and by the looks of it in here, they don’t care for you to smoke them outside. The room is dimly lit, smoke clouding beneath the dusty lamps and there are six wooden tables with mismatched chairs. It’s mainly filled with men but there are a few men here with women considerably younger than them. I turn my nose at them, not interested in anything but my own dramas tonight.

I light a cigarette and sip at the glass, the bottle sitting in the center of the table. The music playing is heavy rock, a mixture of Metallica, Iron Maiden and Led Zeppelin. I vibe along to the music, the loudness making it easier to drown out my own thoughts.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and Indie is calling me, I decline it and power down my phone. If there’s anyone that’s going to make me think rationally, it’s her. And I’m not in the mood to think rationally about anything anymore.

The alcohol buzzes my brain, my muscles feel loose, and I can finally enjoy the atmosphere. As much as I want to pummel the fuck out of some good for nothing junkie to release some steam, I’m actually not interested in wasting my anger. I want to stimulate it and direct it right back at the Dawson’s.

“Hey man, mind if we sit?” A man with an Australian accent and a torn denim jacket on, asks.

I look behind him at the other two guys, one in a recognizable Armani suit and the other wearing just a button up shirt. I gesture to the empty table and light up another cigarette, pulling it between my lips and inhaling the toxic air.

They scuffle around the table until they’re all seated, I eye each of them carefully, trying to figure them out.

“Sorry, I’m Everett,” the blonde guy in the denim jacket says and reaches out his hand across the table for me to shake.

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