The story was taking a direction that Kerry wasn’t sure she was ready for and mentioned as much, but Landon ignored her plea. Somehow, she knew he needed to get this off his chest, so she sat patiently in the office chair, painfully reliving his horrendous past.
“I remember the day like it was yesterday. I remember the copper and iron scent of blood in the air. I remember the fear that soared through me. I walked into the house after a soccer practice ran late and I found my father straddling Oliver on the floor as he pounded his fist into my brother’s face over and over again. Oliver had fought, but I could see his limbs growing week as he lost blood and consciousness.
“On the floor, I saw my father’s favorite liquor bottle and I grabbed it and slammed it down on his head to free my brother. We thought that we had time to escape, but as I tried to help Oliver off the ground and lift him so that we could be free, my father came to.
“He gripped my ankle from his perch on the floor and I fell backward, hitting my head on the corner of the stairs. My vision was blurry, but I could hear Oliver screaming. As my eyesight cleared, I saw my father coming toward me with a hunting knife in his hand. He had plans to kill me and probably my brother. It wasn’t a knife he carried on his body normally.
“I did my best to fight him, but even as an old chap, the man was strong, and an alcoholic rage fueled him. I recall fearing the worst when Oliver jumped on his back, trying to pry the knife free from my father’s grip.
“It happened so fast, but somehow Oliver got my father on his back and using the bastard's own hold on the knife, Oliver forced him to stab the knife into his chest repeatedly. Our father was too drunk even to know what was going on. He stared at both of us, waiting for one of us to help him, but we selfishly stood there watching him bleed to death.
“The police arrived about two minutes later. Apparently, one of our neighbors heard the commotion. My father was barely hanging on to life, probably to screw us over in the end, because when the officer asked him who did this to him, he pointed at me.”
“Landon. . .”
“Oliver had always desired to go into the priesthood. It was something he had talked about since his First Communion.”
“Oh my. . .you took the blame, didn’t you?” Kerry’s heart broke for the little boy that lost his family the day his mother passed away and the young man that lost his chance for freedom to protect his brother.
Landon chose that moment to look back at her and smirk in that way that made her heart clench.
“I would do anything for my brother. He is literally everything that is good in the world.”
“What happened next?”
“My lawyer tried to argue domestic and child abuse but there were no records in Georgia. All the police and CPS calls were ignored or brushed off. I signed a plea agreement that kept my brother free — ten years for voluntary manslaughter.
“What’s funny is my brother kept appealing my case over and over with any lawyer that would work pro bono. Most just ignored his requests, but some did try to help. He even wanted to have some of the new DNA tests run to prove the slim twin genetic mutations on the knife and some of the samples collected on my father, to prove that it wasn’t my DNA. It was the first big fight we had.
“Luckily, one lawyer spent time digging through files and found documentation of child abuse back in Ireland and multiple calls in Georgia with claims from neighbors and the school that went ignored. I was released about six months early and all of the charges were dropped against me. The new judge claimed I acted in self-defense.”
“Why did you seem so worried to tell me this, Landon. You saved your brother’s life? You’re a freaking hero.”
“Kerry, I spent ten years in prison. I saw and did things that you don’t ever want to imagine. That time changes you. Believe me.”
She sat for a moment, thinking of all the things he told her, all of the trials he had been through in life yet here he was – thriving, succeeding. He was remarkable in her eyes.
“Where is your brother now?”
“He’s the head of the church in our hometown in Ireland. He’s been begging me to visit since I got out of prison, but I can’t bring myself to do it.”
“I think you should. Maybe I can meet you there or something,” she added, remembering that her time here in Carson may not be permanent.
“I’d like that. I don’t know about you but I could really use a drink right now.”
Standing, Kerry placed the picture back on Landon’s desk then held her hand out for him to take.
“I want you to know that despite everything, I admire you. Not many people go through a situation like that and chose to make something of themselves. You should be proud of yourself.”
“I’ll start working on it.”
“Good. Now, I think this calls for some Irish whiskey, don’t you think?”
Chapter Nine
Relief was just an emotion; Landon kept reminding himself of that. But after telling Kerry his story, he felt like a new person, lighter, less weighed down. It was something hard to describe.
Reaching for his favorite whiskey bottle, Landon pulled down two glasses and poured the amber liquid, then added a splash of water. That was how he preferred to drink it.