I glanced over at Lock to see him staring at Kristoff, death in his eyes.
Lock moved then, taking advantage of Kristoff’s momentary inattention.
He hit Kristoff like a battering ram and the gun went skidding to the side.
Then Lock was beating the shit out of Kristoff, who wasn’t defending himself anymore.
“Lock,” I said softly.
Nothing.
There was nothing penetrating the haze of rage filling Lock’s brain.
“Lock!”
“What the fuck did I tell you about doing shit in my house?” Dad slammed the bedroom door open, gun in hand.
He took in the scene…and froze.
Lock didn’t stop.
Not until my father physically picked him up and forced him into the corner.
Lock’s chest was heaving.
He had blood on his face, his chest, and his hands.
He was also losing his shit.
“Take a deep breath, kid,” Dad ordered. “Breathe.”
I found Lock’s phone that was still on the nightstand and dialed 911.Chapter 17After my funeral, someone hack my page and say ‘I appreciate y’all coming out.’
-Lock to Justice
Lock
I was unsurprised to see my parents walk into the room, followed shortly by Ares.
“One more,” I said.
Silas gave me another shot of whiskey, then turned his eyes to my family.
“Downy,” Silas said. “Memphis.”
Mom rounded the small bar and gave Silas a big hug.
“How are you, darlin’?” Silas asked, offering my mom a beer.
A beer in which she took.
“I’d be better if I didn’t get a call from my soon-to-be daughter-in-law saying that my son was drinking himself to death because he beat the shit out of someone,” Mom said, her eyes landing on me.
Dad’s hand came down on my shoulder, and I took another shot of whiskey.
“You got a beer in there for me?” Saylor asked, sidling up to my other side.
Silas handed both my dad and Saylor a beer, and then said, “I think I’ll leave y’all alone.”
Then he was gone, leaving my family and Saylor’s.
“Why are y’all here?” I asked curiously, staring at my empty glass.
“We’re here, moron, because you won’t answer our calls,” Ares said, her eyes training on something across the room. “Who is that?”
I didn’t bother looking up.
Saylor, apparently, did though.
“The one on the left is Ford. The one on the right is a friend of his that just retired from the military. I think his name is Saint,” Saylor said. “I’m going to mingle. Y’all try to talk some sense into him.”
Ares got up and walked with my soon-to-be-wife over to where there was a gaggle of ladies.
My mom kissed my head and walked over to talk to someone else, leaving me alone with Kettle and my father.
“What happened?” Dad asked.
I didn’t say anything, too in my own head to think.
“Got home to a lot of commotion coming from Saylor’s room,” Kettle said. “Went in to find Lock beating the snot out of Kristoff.”
“Why does that name keep popping up?” Dad asked.
“Because it’s the same one that fucked with Mom. That fucked with Ares. That fucked with us,” I said. “Same Kristoff. Spanning across fucking years of time.”
Dad paused, considering what I just said.
“Then why are you so fucked up?” he asked. “You did what you needed to do.”
“I did what I…”
“You protected Saylor,” Kettle said.
“There were no bullets in the gun,” I said.
“Didn’t know that at the time,” Dad said. “What if there were?”
I didn’t say anything to that.
“Kid’s fucked up,” Kettle finally said. “There’s a possibility of brain damage.”
I felt my stomach drop.
At the time that I’d been kicking his ass, I hadn’t felt bad in the least.
It was only after I’d seen the damage I’d done to Kristoff, and realized that was exactly what he’d wanted, did I start to feel bad for going so far.
“The kid needs his brain unscrambled,” Kettle said. “Maybe you did that for him.”
I rolled my eyes.
“He walked into this house and pointed a gun at my kid,” Kettle said then. “If you hadn’t have beaten him, I’d have shot him.”
“He had a kid at home,” I said. “I heard him saying that as I was kicking his ass. Not to kill him. He had a kid.”
“That excuses his behavior?” Dad asked. “I heard from Luke that that kid was left alone for what was likely a day, if not more. He’s two. He had no toys. No clothes. Was in a diaper that had been on so long that he has a raging infection. Tell me…does that sound like a man that needs sympathy?”
When he put it that way, no.
“The kid okay?” I asked curiously.
Dad grunted. “Yes. He’s staying with a buddy from the PD for the time being. They need to look into his background before anything else can be done.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“I’m tired.”
Dad locked his hand around my neck and squeezed.
“Go talk to your girl, bud,” he ordered. “She can’t stop staring at you.”
I looked up to find that he was right.
Though Saylor was standing in the middle of a bunch of women, all of them chattering on, her eyes were on me.