Old Fashioned - Becker Brothers

“No,” she said loudly, pressing her hands into my chest and looking up at me. “He does not have power — not over me, or over Paige — not anymore. I decided that, and I will do whatever it takes to ensure it’s true.”

I searched her eyes, riddled with pain and terror, as I swept her hair back from her face. “What happened?”

Her bottom lip trembled. “He came to the house today, drunk or hungover or both. And angry. He was so angry,” she whispered, shaking her head. “And he threatened me, said he would convince child services that I was an unfit mother, doing drugs and bringing random men home.”

My jaw clenched. “That’s fucking bullshit.”

“I know, and he knows that, too — but as he liked to remind me today, he is the cops,” she said, mimicking his voice. “And he has every powerful man in this town wrapped around his finger, waiting to do what he asks — whether to pay back a debt or to keep their own dirty laundry from being exposed.”

“That motherfucker…”

“And he grabbed me,” she continued on a sob, showing me her arm that was already bruising. “And said I could make it all go away if I gave him another chance, and then Paige saw us, and she was crying and screaming at him to let me go but he wouldn’t.” She closed her eyes, crying, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe the story she was telling me was real. “And then she was pulling at me, and she bit him, Jordan.” Her eyes met mine. “She bit him, and I pushed him out, and then he was still going on from the other side of the door.” She sniffed, scowling. “He said he owns me. And I decided right then and there that this all has to end. I don’t know how, but I know I would rather die trying than to give in to his bullshit even one more day.”

My chest was on fire with rage, and it was nearly impossible to cool it down, to remain calm after hearing her story. I forced a long, slow exhale, closing my eyes for a while before I opened them and found her staring back at me again.

“I’m supposed to trade off with him on Tuesday,” she said softly. “I can’t… I won’t hand my daughter back to that monster.”

I nodded, pulling her into me once more and hugging her tight. When she looked up at me again, our lips were just inches apart, our breaths warm where they met between us.

“I’m in love with you, too, Sydney,” I whispered, and with the words, more tears glossed her brown eyes. “Do you know that? I love you with everything that I am, and I give you my word that he will never hurt you or Paige again. Ever. You hear me?”

She nodded, and when she pressed onto her toes to kiss me, I tasted her salty tears on those sweet lips.

We held each other tight, kissing like the world was ending and this was our final moment together. It felt that way — like we were on the precipice of the biggest storm, one we weren’t sure we would live through.

“We have to take him down,” she said, definitively. “Him, and Patrick, and whoever else is responsible for your father’s death. We have to get justice, Jordan. We must.”

I nodded, framing her face with my hands. “My brothers will be here tomorrow. I’ve been trying to get a lawyer but…” I sighed. “I think Patrick knows we’re onto him, or someone knows, because every time I get a lawyer willing to talk to us, they pull out the next day or even hours later, saying there’s a conflict of interest.”

She frowned. “He can’t possibly have that much power over that many lawyers. Did you go to people outside of Stratford?”

I nodded. “I even talked to two in Nashville. I don’t know, Sydney… I think we’re in deeper than we realize.”

Her eyebrows tugged together, a defeated sigh leaving her chest as she watched me. “What do we do?”

A breeze rolled in over my mother’s front yard, whipping Sydney’s hair about and stirring up something deep inside me. It felt like the heavens were taking up arms with us, like my father had just dropped down and landed beside me, ready to fight.

“Tomorrow, when Noah and Mikey are here, we assemble the troops. We make a plan,” I said.

My chest caught fire again, puffing out, my heart racing loud and heavy in my ears as Sydney watched me. I saw the same fierce determination reflected in her eyes, and another gust of wind blew through the trees and through my soul, too.

“Then, we go to war.”JordanOn Monday evening, after the workday was done and the sun had already set over our small, sleepy town, Patrick Scooter walked us back through his immaculate home and into his office.