Broken Trust part II (of II)

Liam sat and waited, his legs bouncing rapidly in his nervous state. He got up and paced, chewed on his already short nails and looked at himself in the two-way mirror. His hair was disheveled, his face showed nothing but uncertainty. He looked like he had been run over by a truck—a truck named Jay.

Hank finally returned alone. "You owe me big time kid. I just saved your life. What's the deal with you anyway? Now is the time to beg for forgiveness, not give a bunch of attitude. Jay is on the edge and your trying your damndest to shove him off of it."

"I know. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, any of it. The words just came out of my mouth." Liam defended.

"Just came out of your mouth huh? Well your dad and I talked, and in order for this not to go any further you and your buddy, who, by the way, is scared enough or smart enough to sit there and nod and agree with everything I said."

"You're a scary guy Sarge," Liam stated as he looked up, chewing once again on his nearly nonexistent fingernails.

"Am I?"

"Yes sir," Liam exclaimed.

"Well, we decided that you and Charlie will be attending a class on gun safety and the dangers that carelessness can bring."

"Okay," Liam said.

"Oh, I'm not done yet. The class will be taught by me and your father. It will be very hands on and active and very detailed."

"Oh, okay," Liam repeated, imagining the hell that awaited him.

"And there will be a test that you have to pass or be subject to taking the whole class again," Hank stated. "And you both will join the Police Explorers program for at least six months."

"But it meets every Saturday."

"It sure does, at eight o'clock in the morning. Sometimes on Sunday too, if there is a project going on. But that shouldn't be a problem for you as I'm pretty sure your calendar is going to be clear for quite a while."

"I wish I could start today over," Liam lamented.

"But you can't can you? No such thing and that is why you have to do things right the first time!" Voight yelled causing Liam to flinch. "Why you have to make better decisions from the start because there are no do-overs. You're pretty damn lucky this wasn't worse. It could have been so much worse in so many ways. Do you understand that?" Hank said pointing at the table with passion.

"Yes," Liam said quietly.

"You know, yesterday or even this morning, if someone had told me what happened with you today, I would have never believed them. I would have said, 'not Liam Halstead, no way. He's too smart to be involved in any of this.' But clearly I was wrong, wrong to give you the benefit of the doubt, wrong to believe in you.

"It was like dominoes falling wasn't it? One thing happened, then the next and the next. Skip camp, drink a beer, shoot a gun, nearly get shot, get hauled into the district. If you had made one different decision, things wouldn't have ended up here. I gave you credit for being better than this, but I guess I learned my lesson," Hank said before he turned and left. The door opened again a few seconds later, Voight sticking his head back inside the room. "You were raised better than this. I know that for a fact. This is all on you Liam James, all on you."

Liam sat there thinking about what Voight had said. He did feel bad, very bad. At first it was Jay's anger he feared, but it was his father's face had held something else he couldn't quite figure out, but he knew it was much worse. He really did wish that he could go back and start the day over. That at the very least he would have taken the clip from Charlie and told him to put the damn gun back. Now everything was a mess and it would be easy to blame Charlie, but Liam knew he was the one that went along with it all; drank the beer, shot the gun. He was honestly terrified that if he hadn't grabbed the gun and tossed it aside the officers may have opened fire; they had that desperate look on their face that their thinking process had all but left and it was now down to action and adrenaline only. But that action could have had terrible consequences and they were both lucky that nobody was hurt or killed. He had put himself and Charlie in an awful situation as well as the responding officers, who had no idea what the boys were intending or capable of.

Liam had no idea how long he sat there alone. He had gone over things in his mind, once, twice, three times and more. He had no idea why he didn't just sit there and nod, take everything his father handed to him. It was like he couldn't help it. It was probably his new constant drip of testosterone that seemed to override his decision making process.

Jay came back into the room. "Charlie just went home with his parents. They weren't happy. The gun is kept in a lockbox and apparently Charlie had located the combination. Needless to say you two will not be hanging out together for a while."

"Okay." Liam said quietly.

"I've been trying to think of the one word that describes how I feel and I think I finally came up with it. Any idea what it is?" Liam just meekly shook his head back and forth.

"Disappointment. Disappointment in you, disappointment in your choices, disappointment in your actions. I expected more from you. I thought I had done a better job with you. But today proved that you weren't who I thought you were, that perhaps I'm not the father I thought I was."

"No, you are. This was all my fault. You're right, I should have done better, you taught me better. But sometimes I screw up."

"Yes, I expect you to make mistakes and that's okay, but not like this. Not when things are so black and white. You knew the right choice, but you chose the wrong one multiple times today and that is not okay."

Liam sighed. "You're right. I messed up over and over again."

Jay sighed on the inside. These were the words he was hoping to hear; his son taking responsibility. Jay could tell by the tone of his voice and body language that the remark was genuine; that the words had gotten through. But would this new found declaration remain, its uncertainty is what kept Jay from any thoughts of victory.

According to Charlie's parents, he was heading to his grandparents house in Bloomington for the remaining weeks of summer vacation, where he would help with the garden and other household projects. But Liam had no grandparents to assist. He had an uncle, who lived a few miles away and worked more hours than Jay. There was no place to ship his son for a change of scenery, to be watched over and learn that trust is earned. Now that they were back at the apartment Jay had been turning things over and over in his mind. Liam was doing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen as Jay finished up some work on the laptop. They had stayed at the district for a few hours, Hank had a few more words with Liam and then told them to go home.

Liam sprayed the counter and wiped it down with a cleaner that smelled like citrus and tossed the rag in the washer and walked over to Jay. "Is that good?"

Jay blinked as he looked at the kitchen. "Yeah. Fine."

"Can I go to my room now?" Liam asked his eyes hopeful for escape.

But Jay said no. "Sit on the couch." He directed. Liam looked behind him at the couch like it had just appeared. "Sit," Jay stated sternly. Liam went over and sat down as he looked over at the remote control on the coffee table. "Nope, no TV." Jay said following his son's eyes.

"So, I'm just supposed to sit here?"

"Yep."

"Till when?"

"Till I tell you when you can get up." Jay said, exasperation creeping into his voice.

Liam sighed loudly and flopped backwards with a great amount of drama, causing Jay to look up, his elbow resting the table, his fingers bracing his forehead, his eyes steady and unblinking. He looked over long enough that Liam shifted his body and instantly quieted down.

A half hour later Liam spoke up. "How much longer?"

"You're seriously asking me that? I said until I told you otherwise. Have I told you otherwise?"

"No."

"No sir." Jay reminded.

Liam sighed again. "No sir," he parroted. "But?"

"But what? But you think that you should dictate the terms of your punishment? That we'll see what works for you and what doesn't? You think it's supposed to be easily tolerated? Fun? Acceptable on your terms?" Jay spouted.

Liam just sat, his eyes widening with each phrase. Oh how he wished he could go back to the morning and start everything all over again. His dad wasn't going to make this easy or pleasant, but then again he was being punished, and he still had no idea for how long.

Jay continued to work while Liam shifted around, but took care to do it as quietly as possible. Finally he cleared his throat and dared to speak again. "How long will I be grounded?"

Jay looked up again and flipped the laptop screen down and Liam didn't know if that was a good sign or a bad one. Jay stood up and seemed to stare off, clearly in his own world. Liam scooted back on the couch, trying to sit up as Jay's fingers traveled towards the belt that encircled his waist. Liam began to blink frequently and mashed his lips together with apprehension. He continued to watch as his father's digits traveled towards the buckle.

Liam had only really been disciplined in a physical fashion twice, and neither had included an accessory. He had hoped the sharp slap to his cheek had been enough, he accepted it as Jay was beyond angry at the moment, and well—even he knew he deserved it. He figured that might be the end of it. But here he was bringing attention to himself by constantly moving around and complaining. It was just so hard to sit still. And now it appeared he was going to pay dearly for it as well as all the other indiscretions from the day.

Jay, his hand resting on the buckle, fingers having pulled part of the belt through already, stopped and looked over at his son. His mind was spinning so fast, he could barely keep up with it. He thought back to his youth when he endured the apprehension his son was feeling right now. He hated it, it would always make his stomach flip flop and caused him to despise his father at least for the immediate future. But he also recalled he never repeated the infraction that he had been disciplined for. As he looked over at his child, his eyes already glistening in fear and dread, he yanked the belt and began to free it. He couldn't take the chance that Liam would ever think twice about repeating anything close to what he had partaken in today.

"Get up!" He ordered. Liam stood up on shaky legs, any bravery he had possessed quickly vacated and left him uncertain and afraid. But Jay never wanted his son scared of him; respect him yes, fearful, no. He chewed on his lip for a second and cleared his throat. "Go to your room, put on your soccer shorts, tank top and running shoes. Then come back out here and sit back on the couch." Liam paused, uncertain what he had just heard. "Go!" Jay yelled, sending Liam sprinting to his room.

Liam ran into his room and tried to pull his Chuck T's off without untying them, but after a brief struggle he realized the laces held too tightly so he yanked the loops open and pulled them apart and tugged his sneakers off. He then shed his denim shorts and pulled his black practice shorts on before he dug through his drawers looking for any tank top available. Like the laptop closing, he had no idea if this was good or bad, he had no idea what his dad had planned. He slid his arms into the shirt and kicked his other clothes aside as he looked around for his other sneakers. He found one under the bed and the other under his desk. He put them on and then went back into the living room and sat down on the couch and waited—for what, he had no idea.

Jay shed his clothes and found a pair of shorts and shirt much like the ones he ordered his son to put on. His mind was a blizzard of uncertainties and confusion. He thought back to the times with his father, when he had admittedly screwed up and though he was disciplined—it just seemed more like a flat out punishment that held no learning, nothing to remember for the future. He either committed his next acts more deftly or avoided them—not because he chose to do the right thing, but because he was afraid of his father's reaction. Not that his fear was particularly bad—it did keep out of potential trouble, but it was the way he feared his father and his reaction. There was no building up—only tearing down.

He hadn't planned to slap Liam—it had just happened. All the fear he had absorbed by hearing what the patrolmen had told him became a steady flow of adrenaline laced anger. Every stair he climbed to get to his son, caused that fuel to ignite, circulate through his body and finally explode once he saw his offspring. He couldn't do anything about it now, but he could change the pattern that he had experienced as a child and begin a new direction with his son. After taking a few big breath's he came out a moment later, to find his son waiting for him. "Thirsty?" He asked.

"Not really," Liam replied.

"Okay then. We need to stretch for a minute. Just do what I do," Jay instructed as he went through his usual warm-up routine.

"Why? What are we doing?" Liam asked as he followed his father moves.

"You have all this energy to run all over town, to bounce around on the couch—well we're going to get rid of some of it."

"How," Liam asked quietly.

"Run, son. We're going to run."

Liam suddenly looked panicked. "But you're too fast. I can't keep up with you. And you go too far, like miles too far."

"I ran this morning. I'm not doing my full route. And I'll slow down so that you can keep up."

"Can I pick my punishment?" Liam asked as he pulled his leg up behind him to stretch out his quad.

Jay looked confused for a moment. "No. I choose. It's part of the job description." As he finished his pre-run stretch he smiled knowing that he had chosen well. "Ready?"

"I doubt it," Liam admitted.

"Let's go," Jay said tucking his keys into the zip pocket in his shorts.

"Remember you said you'd go slow and we wouldn't go far," Liam yelled.

"I said we won't go the full route and I'd slow down. Not quite the same."

"How far?" Liam asked, fear in his eyes.

Jay looked down the street. "How about down to the music store and back—that's about a mile and a half total."

Jay didn't wait for Liam's reply as he took off, weaving in and out of the pedestrian traffic as if he was a car on the highway—his stride easy like a Lamborghini gliding by slower moving sedans, while Liam chugged behind him doing his best to keep his father in his sights. Liam wasn't lazy, he played baseball and soccer, rode his bike, ran around the streets, but running just to run wasn't exactly his favorite activity, and running for apparently no reason seemed just ridiculous to him. He knew why his dad ran; to keep up when he chased the bad guys, but Liam had no desire to chase anyone, especially his father.

Jay looked back. "Keep up," he barked out.

Liam put his head down and ran a little faster in his attempt to keep up. He knew that Jay had lessened his pace but it was still too fast, way too fast. Liam finally made it to the music store, where Jay was jogging in place. "I'm trying," Liam whined. "You have to go slower."

"You need to go faster." Jay instructed. "You want to play with things that are for adults, dabble in danger, be full of adventure, then you are going to have to keep up. Let's go." Jay finished as he took off back towards their apartment. Liam shook his head and followed, angry that his father hadn't even sounded out of breath.

Liam's legs were heavy and felt as if they were on fire. He could see his dad up ahead already stretching and watching out for him. He had wished his father had gone with the original plan. He would have definitely preferred a few whacks with a belt than this. But it was almost over—or so he thought.

He slowed down and bent over panting and fighting for his breath. "I did my best," he wheezed out.

"We'll work on it." Jay said. "Walk around for a minute and cool down."

"What do you mean we'll work on it?" Liam gasped, looking up.

"I mean, every day that you are grounded, which is going to be quite lengthy, we're going to exercise. Except for weekends, I'll give you those off."

"Exercise? Like what?" Liam asked, still gulping for air. When he was younger he had always loved their morning routines, but he was on his scooter or bike, this was totally different and not nearly as enjoyable.

"Running, push-ups, sit-ups all kinds of fun things. If you want to make the soccer and baseball teams in high school you had better start preparing now."

"I don't think this has anything to do with that," Liam said.

"You're right. It doesn't. Let's get a drink, then we'll move on to some of those push-ups." Jay said moving towards the front door, leaving Liam to realize that he had several weeks of father induced hell ahead of him. His father was going to exercise him to death, so that he wouldn't do anything dangerous again—but hell, that was only if he didn't die during his punishment.

A month later, though Liam was a bit faster and had more endurance, it certainly hadn't been like those movie scenes where they take some overweight and out-of-shape individual and in mere weeks they were skinny and ran like the wind. Jay had changed up his morning routine where they would run, sometimes a mile sometimes more. Then Jay would finish his route while Liam did other exercises. Since Liam still couldn't lie to save his life and Jay was a seasoned human lie detector—Liam exercised as he was supposed to.

By the end of the second month he was little faster yet, and not quite as winded, but still wasn't ready to join the track team or have any desire to run for any other reason than being chased by a pack of wild dogs. He had run his last route earlier that morning and was lounging in his room when Jay called him out to the table after dinner.

"Have a seat," Jay pointed as he sat down. Liam complied, having concern as to what his father might be getting ready to tell him. "You did abide by the rules while you were grounded—at least as far as I know. So tomorrow you will be free. But first I think we need to talk."

"Okay," Liam replied, picking at a random spot on the table.

"Tell me what you could have done differently that day," Jay asked.

Liam looked up and licked his lips. "Everything." He whispered.

"Be more specific." Jay urged.

Liam cleared his throat and looked at a spot on the wall to the right of Jay's head. "I should have just gone to camp."

"Good choice. That would have avoided everything that followed. But if you had still decided to skip camp, what else could you have done once Charlie showed you the contents of the backpack?"

Liam took a deep breath before he began. "I could have walked away. Found another bus to go to camp or called you and said I had missed the bus."

"Why didn't you?"

"I didn't want to get into trouble for missing the bus. If I called, you would have had to come get me and drop me off and that would have made you mad for having to leave work."

"I wouldn't have been thrilled and I would have told you as much, but it wouldn't have been that big of a deal. A lecture on punctuality perhaps and that would have been it. What else could you have done?"

"I should have told Charlie that I wasn't going with him and told him to put the gun back and if he didn't I was going to call and tell you that he had a gun."

"Do you think he would have put the gun back?"

Liam shrugged. "I think so."

"It would have been worth a try though huh?"

"Yes sir."

"Say you still ended up at the vacant lot with gun and beer—what could you have done differently?"

"Not drank the beer or shot the gun. I should have taken the clip out and not let him have it and then called you or at the very least gone home."

Jay nodded with some sort of satisfaction. "Tell me all the things that could have gone wrong."

Liam looked like he was going to balk at the request but then swallowed and found the spot on the wall to stare at again. "The gun could have gone off at any time—he didn't even know that it was loaded. Someone could have stolen the bag with gun in it. Um, we could have attracted attention from others who might have shot first and asked questions later."

"And—there's more, much more." Jay encouraged. Liam sat there quietly now looking down at the table. "Look at me son—what else could have happened?"

Liam looked at Jay, but his eyes refused to lock onto his father's eyes. "Charlie wouldn't drop the gun—the officers didn't know that it was empty—he could have been shot and killed. I could have been shot and killed when I grabbed the gun."

"Dead at thirteen due to pure stupidity. Now, how would that have affected the officers?"

"Probably not well."

"How about Charlie's parents? How about me?"

"Worse."

"Again, because of something stupid," Jay said, his voice rising. "This, nothing like this is ever to happen again—am I understood?"

"Yes. Yes sir." Liam said, his eyes moist as he looked up at Jay.

"About that day at the district—when I first saw you—I, I hadn't planned on—on striking you," Jay finally got out. "I was so scared, I had just heard what happened, how close they were to taking action—how close I was to losing you. Do you understand that?"

Liam nodded, a tear winding its way down his face. "I'm sorry. I really am."

"So am I. I didn't want to react that way." Jay said thinking back to his youth when his father's hand reached out and disciplined him in the same manner. He had vowed he would never treat his child like that. "I never want you to be afraid of me."

Liam's head, that had been bent, looking down at the table shot up and his eyes quickly found his father's. "Dad, I was afraid to get into trouble. I was afraid of the consequences of my actions. I was afraid of what my punishment would be. I was afraid of your reaction, but I've never been afraid of you. I knew I screwed up big and I knew that you'd be mad. I knew you'd be mad because you were scared, because of everything that could have happened. I knew you would be scared because you love me. So—well, I got over it. I don't even know why I was so snotty when you talked to me in the interrogation room. I think I was panicking."

"I think I panicked too."

"But you stopped panicking. When you made me run and exercise, you weren't scared anymore. But I was," Liam chuckled. "I thought you were going to run me to death."

Jay smiled. "Did I get my point across?"

"You did," Liam stated.

"Do you remember when you were little and I'd tell you I loved you and you would say—"

"More than anything." Liam said recalling his comeback.

"Yeah and then I would say—"

"Forever and always." Liam finished. "Of course I remember."

"Liam," Jay began causing the boy to look up at him. "I love you."

"More than anything." Liam replied.

"Forever and always," Jay finished.

The next morning, Liam's grounding had officially ended but he put his shorts on and stretched as Jay walked out of his bedroom.

"You don't have to go out with me today. Your punishment is over."

"I know. But I thought, I though maybe we could keep doing this. If you don't mind adjusting your routine for me. I mean—we do calisthenics for soccer and run as well, but this—can we just keep doing it?" Liam stammered.

Jay tried to contain his smile, but allowed it surface a little. "Yeah, we can keep doing it—of course we can."

They both gave small smiles and nodded, communicating in ways that only men do—then they laced up and ran side by side.