Author's Chapter Notes:
In the aftermath of his parents' departure, Brian seeks comfort from those who love him. The sheriff and prosecutor offer a deal to the doc's son in exchange for information; will it be accepted?
Sarah blinked back tears, her heart breaking as she peered over at her nephew. There was hurt clearly etched on his face, but the fury directed earlier at Brian's parents had dissipated to be replaced with a vulnerable-looking young man who had suddenly had his world turned upside down. Brian quietly stood there as if in shock, his arms folded tightly across his chest as if he were trying to protect himself from any more harm.
Before she had a chance to try and comfort her nephew, Will walked over to the back door to peer outside; they both knew that Jack and Joan had already left, but her husband seemed intent upon making sure they weren't returning. Either that, or he was desperately trying to calm his own anger over what they had just said to Brian.
Sure enough, she heard her husband mutter under his breath, then, speaking in a way she seldom heard. "Damn, greedy idiots!" he growled. He whirled around to stare over at his wife as he told her firmly, "If they so much as step on this property again, I WILL call Billy and have them removed! Who do they think they are?" He fumed over what had just happened, still in disbelief that anyone would treat their own son with such blatant disregard. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself. "I know she's your sister and all, Sarah, but I will not stand for that type of behavior."
Sarah nodded her head as she glanced over at Brian, concerned by how uncharacteristically silent he was being. "No, I agree," she told him quietly. "My sister had no right to say what she did. And Jack; well, Jack was way out of bounds."
Will huffed. "That doesn't begin to cover it," he disagreed. He brushed one calloused hand through his hair as he signed in disgust, stealing a glance over at his nephew. He shared a worried look with his wife before the two of them approached Brian together, noticing his head was averted downward as his fingers idly played with the back of one of the wooden kitchen chairs in front of him.
"Brian..." Sarah begin softly as she tentatively reached out her arm to grasp his, only to watch Brian snatch his out of reach and lift his stormy-looking eyes to peer into her concerned ones. "Don't touch me!" he growled as he hugged himself even tighter. "Leave me alone!"
Sarah's eyes stung with unshed tears as she looked helplessly over at her husband and silently begged him to do something.
"Son..." Will began.
Brian's eyes flashed. "I am NOT your son. That has been well-established, hasn't it? They were right, weren't they?" he accused them. "I'm just here as a replacement for your dead son!"
Sarah gasped in astonishment. Did Brian not understand how much they loved him for who he was? "Brian..." she repeated softly. But her nephew turned his head to look away from her, making Sarah pause in uncertainty.
Now it was Will's turn to bristle slightly in irritation. "No, you are NOT a replacement," he told him sternly. "You never were and never will be." He sighed in frustration. "Brian, look at me," he commanded quietly. After a few seconds, Brian did as he was told, lifting his gaze to stare into his uncle's face as Will explained, "We know all too well that our son is gone and never coming back. And yes, you are like him in a lot of ways," he admitted. "But make no mistake about it, young man. We are fully aware of who you are and who our son was. And we are NOT - nor will we ever be - anything like your money-grubbing parents. I thought you knew us better than that. We are honorable people, Brian, simple people. We don't treat people like objects to be thrown away." Not like YOUR parents, was the unspoken comment. But whether spoken aloud or not, there was no mistaking what Will was trying to say. "We have to work hard out here to survive. And we may not have all the creature comforts of city folk, but what we DO have is integrity and a sense of family; no amount of money can ever buy that, because it's priceless. And now you are a part of OUR family, Brian. We would feel that way whether you were a king or some hobo just off the train down by the general store. I think you know me and Sarah well enough by now to know that we don't say things that aren't true or that we don't mean. We are honorable people, young man. So when we tell you that you are NOT a replacement for...for our son, but someone unique and worthy of being loved in his own right, then you need to believe it. Do you hear me?"
Sarah clutched her husband's sleeve, thankful that he was able to verbalize exactly how she was feeling as well, but a little surprised that Will was being so open about his feelings. More and more, however - ever since Brian had come to live with them - she was seeing more of the man she had fallen in love with so long ago. And for that, she would forever be grateful to her nephew for bringing her husband back from the brink of despair he had escaped to ever since Dale had been killed. She watched as her nephew blinked back tears of his own before nodding. Impulsively, she reached toward him to pull him into a fierce hug, her arms sliding around his waist to hold him close. She felt Brian hesitating for a moment before he, too, wrapped his arms around her slender body and just held onto her as if she were his anchor in a maelstrom.
Finally, she pulled back to peer into his tear-stained face. She smiled softly up at him as she placed her right hand on his cheek. "Brian, you have a home here with us as long as you want. We...we need you here. Not because you help your uncle out with the chores - although that's a big help - but because you have brought something back into our lives that we had lost. And we want you here. Both of us." Will mutely nodded in agreement beside her as she grasped the bottom hem of her half apron to tenderly wipe the moisture from her nephew's face. She let out a deep breath before suggesting, "Why don't you go upstairs and rest for a while? It's been a hard day for all of us."
But Brian shook his head. "No," he told her softly, as he finally spoke. "I think I'd like to just take a walk and be alone for a while."
She nodded. "Of course, if that's what you want," she told him. "But don't stay out too long. I'll have supper ready in a few hours."
Brian nodded back at her as he turned to go; he paused, however, to turn around to face both of them as he simply replied, "Thanks." His aunt and uncle nodded in response as he headed toward the back door, quietly closing it behind him and leaving the kitchen bathed in silence once more. For a moment, it was as if nothing unusual had transpired today. But for all of them, it had been one, long ordeal.
Sarah sighed. "That poor boy," she murmured. "He deserves so much better." She straightened her shoulders with resolve as she faced her husband. "I hate that he had to go through that, Will. But I'm also selfish. I'm glad he's not going back with them. He may not have been used to this kind of life, but I think it suits him. And he has been a blessing to us in so many ways."
Will gazed at her tenderly. "You always were so sentimental, Missy," he chided her gruffly before unexpectedly pulling her into his arms to embrace her. "But you're right," he admitted softly as she laid her head against his chest. "He has been." They hugged for several seconds before Will pulled back, a little embarrassed. "I have to go tend to the livestock," he told her. "I'll be back in before supper."
She nodded as he turned around and followed the same path that Brian had. She let out a ragged breath and briefly closed her eyes in relief. She was finally able to consider the implications of what her sister and Jack had told them. It appeared that Brian could be a fairly wealthy young man if what they were telling them was true. It certainly appeared to be. And while Brian was a very sensible person, she wondered just how capable he would be of managing such a large sum. In addition, she imagined he would have to contact his late uncle's attorney to obtain information on how it would be distributed. He would definitely need help with the procedure, as well as insuring his parents didn't somehow get their hands on any of it. An idea occurred to her as she bit her lip in thought. Perhaps there was something she could do to help her nephew regarding his inheritance.
His hands pushed deep into his jeans pockets, Brian kicked at a large stone on the dirt road leading toward the Taylors' farm. It wasn't that he had intended to walk there, but it seemed his feet decided that was where he needed to go. He was still trying to comprehend what had happened earlier between him and his parents - his loving, generous parents, he thought sarcastically. He snorted in disgust. He couldn't quite say he was surprised by what had happened, but even HE never thought they could be so cruel. He finally had a clear picture, though, of exactly where their priorities lay - and they definitely didn't lie with him, at least not if they couldn't get their hands on his uncle's money. He let out a mournful sigh as he neared the pasture and stables near Windswept Farm, his eyes drawn to the majestic animal quietly grazing by himself inside the fence. As usual, his cousin's horse was an object of fascination to him as he diverted from the dirt road to walk over closer to the fence.
"We're a lot alike, you and I," Brian murmured to True Blue as he approached him. "Both of us are lost in a way." The horse's ears perked up as Brian spoke quietly to him, lifting his huge head to stare over at him, his dark eyes blinking in curiosity. His nostrils flared as if he were sniffing the air before he slowly began to amble over toward the boy, noticing his visitor didn't flinch or exhibit any fear of him.
The horse whinnied softly as he neared, his head slowly swinging from side to side in wariness. The only human he had ever bonded with had suddenly vanished one day, never to return, and he had never trusted anyone again. But there was something about this young man that intrigued him.
"So you're coming over to say hello, huh?" Brian murmured as True Blue came closer, looming over him despite Brian's above-average height. Most visitors to this formidable animal would normally shrink back automatically as the horse approached, having heard about his irascible nature from Vic and feeling a little intimidated by the beast's size. But Brian somehow sensed he had nothing to fear as he tentatively reached his hand out toward the horse's nose. "You are a big one," he admitted as he began to stroke the side of his neck. The horse's eyes blinked slowly, almost as if he were staring straight at him, as Brian continued to lightly scratch the racehorse's neck. He sighed. "Not been my best day, Boy," he told him. "I guess you know all about that sort of thing, though, don't you? If you could only talk." He smirked. "Where is Mr. Ed when you need him?"
He stared up at the majestic animal, wishing that he could have been there when his cousin was at the top of his game, racing around the track triumphantly with his horse. "I bet you wish you were back out on the track right now, huh?" he asked softly. "This must be way too tame for someone like you." He smiled. "I know the feeling. Riding around on a tractor isn't quite the same thrill as drag racing." He sighed, letting out a heavy breath. "How did my life get so fucked up?" he whispered to no one in particular. Right then, he would have given any money due him from his uncle's estate in exchange for a set of loving parents. At least he had his aunt and uncle. He knew they cared about him, which helped. And deep down, he knew they didn't see him as a replacement for his cousin. That didn't mean that what had happened earlier still didn't hurt, though. Stepping back slightly, he placed his elbows on the top of the wooden fence and rested his chin on top of his hands, watching as True Blue gave him one last look before turning to amble back over to some grass as he began to graze.
Justin lay on top of his mattress, unable to sleep. He had had enough sleep; he felt restless and agitated. Worried about what would happen with Doug - if he would, indeed, decide to cooperate with Billy and the county prosecutor and provide enough information to have the real perpetrators arrested - he had found sleep to be an elusive commodity.
Finally giving up, he rose from the bed and shuffled on bare feet over to the partly open window, enjoying the light breeze that filtered in between the curtains. He sighed in melancholy, his eyes slowly scanning the backyard and adjacent stable area; his heart skipped a beat then as he immediately recognized the lean, tall figure standing near the paddock - close to Dale's horse. "Brian?" What was he doing back here so soon? He wondered. And why was he out by the stables, instead of coming to see HIM?
Did he really care why, though? Of course not. His rest abruptly forgotten, he hurried to slide into his well-loved sneakers as he rushed toward the closed bedroom door and then down the steps.
As he descended the steps and reached the bottom, he tried to be discreet as he headed down the short hallway leading from the living room to the kitchen, hoping he could slip out without being discovered; his parents meant well, but they were being just a bit too clingy lately. To his frustration, he observed his mother currently puttering around in the kitchen, wiping off the table with a dishrag.
Fortunately, Justin was quiet enough that he hadn't yet been discovered. Biting his lower lip anxiously, he softly turned around and crept back down the hallway - toward the front door. Trying to be as quiet as possible, he flipped the latch toward the left to unlock it, and - with one last glance to make sure his mother hadn't noticed him - he pulled the door open just enough to slip outside, being careful not to close the door too hard as he let out a relieved breath. Hurrying toward the wooden steps leading off the front porch, he quickly rushed around the side of the house and opened the rear gate, heading toward the other boy who was still standing by the fence with his back to him, his chin resting on his hands.
He reached Brian's side in record time, noticing he didn't even seem to realize he was there. His suspicions were confirmed when he softly called out his name as he stood a few feet away.
"Brian?"
His back still to him, Justin watched as Brian raised his head and seemed to wipe his face with his hand. He noticed him squaring his shoulders before he finally turned around to face him. He immediately focused on the red-rimmed eyes and the look of sadness on Brian's face, before the other boy smiled at him. "Hey."
Justin frowned in concern as he walked closer to him. "Brian, what's wrong?" he asked softly. He tentatively reached his right hand up to cup his lover's cheek. "You look like you've been crying." He could see some residual wetness on Brian's cheeks, so it was obvious he was upset about something. This was so unlike his typical confidence that it immediately put Justin on alert.
Brian tentatively thought about flat out denying Justin's statement, but there was something about the soft blue eyes staring back at him with such care that he just couldn't do it. He lifted his left hand to place it over Justin's, grasping it gently as he held onto it for dear life and pressed it against his chest. The warm hand captured in his helped to anchor him as he reassured him, "I'm okay. Nothing for you to worry about."
But just as he suspected, Justin wasn't willing to let it go. "Well, I am worried about it," Justin told him, his eyes searching his lover's for any clue as to what was bothering him. "If you're upset about something, then so am I. God knows you've been there for me enough times when I was unhappy or sad about something. Let me help, Brian. Tell me. Please." He curled his fingers over Brian's hand as he stared determinedly into the older boy's eyes.
Brian stood there, mesmerized by the intensity in Justin's eyes. What was it about this other boy that made him fall deeper and deeper in love with him? He no longer even attempted to deny that fact, even to himself. A decision made, he gently pulled on Justin's hand. "Come on. Let's go somewhere and talk."
Ten minutes later, the two of them were sitting on a log near the swimming hole - the same log the two of them had sat on when Brian had gifted his lover with the red, leather sketchbook before, the book that Justin would always treasure as one of his most cherished keepsakes.
As Brian sat there in deep thought, his eyes focused on the water glimmering off the sun that filtered through the trees above. So much had happened since that first day he had seen the beautiful boy in the water that was currently sitting next to him. Yes, some of his time spent here at his aunt and uncle's farm had been distinctly foreign to him and somewhat traumatic. But as he turned his head to peer into a set of worried eyes, he also remembered a lot of good things that had happened as well. And a lot of them were directly attributable to Justin. Justin placed his hand on Brian's thigh in quiet support as he sat quietly beside him, not pressing him for information until he was ready; of that Brian was extremely grateful. But he wanted to share what had happened; he needed to.
"My parents came to visit today," he unexpectedly revealed after several seconds, his eyes once more focused ahead.
"They did?" Justin's heart skipped a beat; he wasn't quite sure what to make of that statement. Had they come to take Brian home early? They weren't supposed to do that until later in the summer. And if so, why was Brian still here? Were his parents still over at the Walkers? Was it possible Brian had been crying because they were going to have to say goodbye? Justin's eyes teared up slightly as he considered that possibility. "Are...are they still at your aunt and uncle's?" he finally asked, afraid of the answer.
But Brian shook his head and let out a harsh sort of laugh. "No...they left a few hours ago. And I don't think they will ever come back, either. At least I fucking hope not."
Justin frowned, trying to decipher what Brian had just said. Part of him was relieved that Brian's parents had left, since apparently that indicated that Brian was remaining where he was, while part of him was quite perplexed. "Brian? I don't understand."
His companion sighed heavily then as he finally turned his attention back to him. "They told me the rest of my probation has been waived by the judge."
Justin smiled in relief. "That's great!" he replied. He furrowed his brow, however, at the look on the other boy's face. "Isn't it?" He was happy for Brian; now at least he wouldn't have to feel like someone was constantly looking over his shoulder. So why didn't Brian look happy? "But you're still here," he pointed out. "They didn't come here to take you back home, then?"
Brian laughed scornfully. "I don't think they cared if I left with them or not. That's not what they were interested in. The only thing THEY were interested in was the money."
Justin chewed on his thumbnail. "Money?"
Brian sighed, brushing his hand restlessly through his hair. He would NOT tear up again in front of Justin; that was for sissies. "Yeah...turns out my uncle who just died left me all his money in his will. And my parents found out about it. That's why they were here. My father is deeply in debt, and thought I was going to be his salvation."
Justin squeezed Brian's thigh a little more tightly, reeling from what he was telling him. "Debt?" he asked softly, not sure how much to press the other boy.
Brian nodded, his head averted downward. The whole thing was both painful as well as embarrassing. "Yeah. Seems my old man got fired from his job after he decided gambling was his full-time occupation instead." He snorted as he lifted his head to peer out over at the water again. "But he apparently wasn't very good at it. He was too stupid to figure out that's why the casinos make all the money they do, because nine times out of ten you lose. And he lost big. They can't even afford their mortgage now, and he and good old Mom figured I would bail them out." Despite his vow a few moments before, he couldn't help the tears stinging his eyes as he unsuccessfully tried to hold them back. "They didn't care about me, Justin," he whispered hoarsely, swallowing hard. "They only came here for the money." A vein in his neck twitched as he revealed, "I told them to go to hell. I don't give a fuck about the money. But I do know they aren't going to get a penny of it." He took a deep breath to try and steady himself. "My aunt and uncle told them to leave, so they finally did. But not before they them that I would never amount to anything, and that I was only in their house as...as a substitute for Dale."
Justin's eyes grew wide in disbelief, his heart breaking over Brian's parents' cruelty and callousness. Releasing Brian's hand, he reached out to gently turn the other boy's face so he could look into his eyes, dismayed to see his eyes glistening with tears. I wish I could have had the pleasure of throwing their asses out of that house myself, he couldn't help thinking, furious over what they had done. "Surely you don't believe that, Brian. I know the Walkers, and I've seen how they are around you. They know the difference between you and Dale. They DO care about you - because of who you are, not because you might resemble Dale in some way. I remember Dale. You do have some similarities, but you're also a lot different, too. They are honest, hardworking people, Brian. They would never see you as just some type of substitute for him. You have to believe me." He brushed some wetness away from Brian's cheek, noticing his lover casting his eyes downward as if he were embarrassed by his display. Cupping his face with the palm of his hand, he told him, "I'm so sorry for what they did. You didn't deserve that. You are so loving, Brian; so good. How could they do that to you?"
Brian harumphed as he shook his head. "Maybe they were right," was the astonishing reply. He half-laughed derisively. "After all, I haven't had the best track record in the past. Once a troublemaker, always a troublemaker." He pursed his lips tightly together, trying to quell any more tears, but it was a losing battle, a couple more trickling down his face as he whispered painfully, "Maybe I'm not even worthy of being loved."
Justin's response was immediate as he gripped Brian's chin firmly, forcing the other boy to look him directly in the eyes. His own eyes darkened with fury and indignation as he growled, "Don't you ever say that! That is NOT true! Your aunt and uncle love you. You have been so helpful to them, and I don't know how I would have coped this summer without you here. And..." He took a deep breath to bolster his courage, hoping beyond hope that Brian wouldn't scoff at what he was about to say. But he couldn't hold it in any longer, especially now when Brian was in so much pain. Brian's eyes bored silently into his, making him even more nervous as his heart started to pound. Was he about to make a big mistake? He wasn't even sure how Brian felt about him, not completely. He knew he cared about him, but...Just how much? Well, he wasn't going to back down now. If there was ever a time to say it, he knew it was now. "And...I love you, too," he whispered at last. There, it was finally out. He felt incredibly anxious as he held his breath and waited for Brian's response, but he also felt relieved, too. It had been so hard to hold his feelings in, but now that he had finally said it, he was prepared to face the consequences.
He bit his lip as his hand dropped to rest against Brian's neck, his thumb idly caressing the soft hair there. Please say something; anything, he silently pleaded.
Brian's eyes widened slightly, his pupils dilating and making them appear even larger than they were as he stared in shock at the amazing boy sitting next to him; the boy who had entranced him with his feistiness, his courage, his intelligence, and his beauty - both inside and out. Had he heard him right? Or had he just wished it so? "You...you love me? He slowly repeated. His heart hammered in his chest as he saw Justin smile self-consciously at him and shyly nod back at him in confirmation. He peered intently back at him through his tears, still not quite sure whether to believe he had heard him correctly. But there could be no mistaking the tender look Justin was giving him. Wow. If Justin loved him, then perhaps he WAS worthy of being loved. He knew then as he continued to stare into his eyes that he was certainly capable of loving someone else wholeheartedly, because he loved HIM, deeply and completely. He reached up to grasp Justin's hand in his as he finally found his voice to reply at last, "I don't believe it." He shook his head in amazement.
Justin curled his fingers over Brian's hand as the older boy raised Justin's hand up to his mouth to tenderly kiss each digit, the warmth and wetness of his lips making Justin shiver. He smiled softly back at him, his other worries temporarily forgotten along with his self-doubts as he finally found the courage himself to reveal, "I love you, too. So damn much."
Justin's face lit up with pleasure then as he used his grip on Brian's hand to bring their bodies closer together as they kissed passionately, both boys wrapping their arms around each other to tightly embrace. Soaring tumultuously from his previous depths of despair, Brian's heart threatened now to explode from happiness as they continued to kiss deeply, their tongues dueling for supremacy as Brian grabbed the back of Justin's neck to pull him even further into his arms. Their desire ramping up as they continued to kiss, they finally had to break for air, both of them panting breathlessly as they stared at each other in wonder.
"You love me." Brian had to slowly repeat it as if he were still trying to believe it. He liked the sound of that.
Justin smiled warmly. "Yes. And you love me."
Brian smiled back at him as he nodded.
"Say it again," Justin implored, his left hand still playing with the soft hair at Brian's nape.
For the first time today, Brian chuckled before his face transformed into something tenderer as he whispered softly but firmly, "I love you, Justin Taylor. Every part of you."
"Name them."
Brian rolled his eyes. "You are a slut for compliments, aren't you?"
Justin smiled. "No...I just like to hear you say it," he insisted.
Brian rolled his eyes, but indulged him. "I love your nose, your lips, your ass, your eyes, your hair..."
"No, not just that. The other part, too."
Brian grinned in understanding; he knew all along what Justin had really wanted. "And...I love you." It was getting easier and easier to say it now. And now that he had, Brian found that he was quite relieved, as well as more than willing to repeat it, just to see that amazing smile on Justin's face. Most of all, though, he was ecstatic that Justin felt the same way.
Justin's smile was blinding as he impulsively pulled Brian closer and plastered their lips together again. Struggling to breathe out their noses, the two boys kissed passionately, their hands roaming everywhere, before they finally had to break apart again, panting softly as they stared at each other, eyes darkened with desire and their lips bruised from the passion of their kisses. With trembling fingers, Justin began to unbutton Brian's shirt, his intentions crystal clear,- only to have Brian place his hands over his to stop him.
"Justin..."
"Brian...I want you."
Brian's wish to be with Justin again was warring with his common sense as he clearly heard the need and desire in his lover's voice; it was all he could do at that moment to show any self-restraint, but he knew he had no choice. "Justin, fuck, I want you, too; you know that. I always want you." Justin's face lit up with eagerness until Brian added, "But I promised your parents I would watch over you, and keep you safe. They don't even know you slipped out of your room, remember? If they find out you're gone, they are going to go into a panic and think the worst, especially your mother." Justin had informed him earlier how he had been able to sneak out of his house without his mother or father none the wiser, and that had been at least an hour ago.
"Brian..." his lover protested, not liking the way their conversation was heading. He knew the other boy was right, but that didn't make his desire for him any less. "We can make it quick," he suggested hopefully, his eyes pleading with him.
Brian maintained a firm grip on Justin's hands as he groaned. "Justin, you're not making this easy on me," he admitted. "But this is not a good time. I think my aunt and uncle are probably wondering where I am by now, too, and I don't want to do anything to damage the progress I've made with your parents. You know I'm right." He heard Justin sigh in resignation then as he added, "We need to get back...okay?"
Justin grudgingly nodded, despite his disappointment, as Brian rose and pulled him to his feet, still holding onto his hands. Stealing another quick kiss from the other boy, the two of them proceeded to walk away from the swimming hole, Brian's arm wrapped around Justin's slender waist.
"Brian?"
Brian looked over at his companion. "Yeah?"
"I think everything's going to be okay. For both of us."
Brian smiled as he pulled Justin a little closer to his body. "Yeah. I think so, too." As long as I have you - and your love.
Same Time - Versailles County Prosecutor's Office
Doug sat sullenly next to his father, scowling across the heavy wooden desk at Dan McFarland, the county prosecutor. Sitting quietly in another chair in the far corner behind the prosecutor was Billy, the sheriff. Doug wasn't sure why he had been unceremoniously summoned here - with his father threatening to never speak to him if he didn't - but he felt distinctly like a boxed-in tiger at a roadside zoo. His father sat beside him to his left, appearing restless and worried, his brow creased with concern.
As if he were reading his mind, the prosecutor took a quiet breath before he addressed him. "I'm sure you're wondering why you were called here."
Doug snorted. "You want to talk about the odds on whether UK is going to get into the Final Four next year. I think the prospects are really good," he told him sarcastically.
McFarland smiled thinly at him as he replied, "No. But I AM going to talk about some other type of odds. The odds of you spending a long time in prison - until you're old enough to need a walker when you get out; IF you get out."
Doug paled noticeably and his smug grin promptly vanished as he realized how serious his situation was. Not that he didn't already know in a way, but to hear confirmation of it from the man who would be trying him made it much more real. "Don't you think I fucking know that?" he growled.
His father reached over to firmly grasp his forearm. "Doug, I suggest you keep your mouth shut, and listen to what the prosecutor has to say."
Doug stared over at his father open-mouthed, a little shocked at the hard tone of his voice. He knew he had made some occasional bad choices in the past - some of which were not legal, or merely childish pranks - but his father had always taken his side, or at least dismissed them as not being very significant. But now...now it was obvious that his father felt vastly different about this situation. "I'm not saying anything without an attorney," he told them defiantly as he crossed his arms across his chest.
His father sighed heavily. "Doug, you have already admitted to what you did to Justin. Don't you think I'd have an attorney here if it would make a difference? Trust me, it won't. That's not the ONLY thing you have to worry about. It's time for you to man up to what you did; ALL of it." He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a tension headache about to bloom into full intensity.
Doug's eyes grew wide with disbelief and dread. "What? What the hell are you talking about?" He swallowed hard, somehow knowing the answer before he was given it.
"You told Jared all about your involvement not only with Justin's injury, but also the Walker boy's death a few years ago. We have it all in crystal clear clarity," Billy spoke up then, unable to keep a little bit of the satisfaction out of his voice as he noticed the boy's face pale.
Doug's blood ran cold, but he forced a smile on his face. He knew how the game was played. They were merely fishing...weren't they? "You don't know a damn thing," he told them confidently. "You're just trying to pin something else on me. You're lying."
Before the prosecutor could respond, Doc Kesterson spoke up. "You idiot! Do you realize just how much trouble you're in? They know everything! Everything that you told the older Taylor boy."
Doug's heart pounded, his eyes darkening with fury as realization set in. He wasn't sure HOW he had been betrayed, but that did not change the facts. "He sold me out!" he snarled. "Damn him! Just wait until I get my fucking hands on him! He'll pay for this!"
"You'll do nothing of the kind, boy," his father snapped, utterly disgusted by what he had discovered. All along he thought his only son was merely a free spirit; a minor troublemaker who lived just on the edge between mischievousness and minor pranks. He never thought in a million years that he would ever be responsible for someone else being hurt - or worse. Once he had been invited in by the prosecutor and his friend, Billy, to listen to what his son had revealed to the Taylor boy, however, he realized just how naïve he had been - and just how serious a hole his son had dug himself into. "You will shut your mouth and listen to what they have to say," he told Doug. "Or you will be in even deeper trouble than you already are. Do you understand?"
Doug's mouth hung open in shock and his previous defiance promptly abandoned him; his father had never spoken to him this way. He looked from him to the stern faces of the other two men intently staring over at him before finally closing his mouth and nodding, his heart thudding in his chest. The enormity of what he had done - and what the consequences could be - hung over him like a thick cloud of doom. He sighed heavily. "So what do you want from me?" he asked the prosecutor. "I was only doing what they asked. I didn't know anyone would wind up getting hurt."
McFarland shook his head in contempt. "Do you know how many times I have heard someone say that, son?" he asked him. "And besides; it doesn't matter what you thought. What does matter are the consequences. By being a willing accomplice to both crimes, you are as much responsible - and prosecutable - as the others. And subject to the same, stiff penalties."
Doug's swallowed hard. "I didn't have any choice," he whispered painfully. "They would have killed ME if I hadn't done what they asked. I didn't mean for it to happen," he insisted weakly.
"Yes, you DID have a choice," his father snapped. "You could have avoided all of this if you had stayed away from the tracks. You could have come to me with the truth, instead of compounding lie upon lie." He shook his head sadly. "I am so disappointed in you, Doug. I never raised you this way. If your mother were alive right now..." He shook his head. "She must be turning in her grave as we speak."
His son quickly transformed from his typical cocky self into more of a little boy as tears sprang to his eyes at the mention of his mother, who had died when he was eight years old. He had worshiped his mother, bringing her wildflowers from the nearby fields and proudly rushing home to show her his good grades in school. Once his mother had died suddenly from an undetected aneurysm in her brain, however, his despair had been unquenchable, and no amount of sympathy or occasional, extra attention from his father could overcome it. He had turned from a happy, carefree little boy into a sullen, pot smoking alcoholic by the time he was a teenager. And from there, he had never looked back, barely making just good enough grades and staying out of major trouble to keep flying under the radar of his ever-busy doctor father. By the time he had reached high school, however, his gambling addiction and exposure to the wrong crowd had forever turned him in a life-changing direction - one that he could never escape from.
He blinked, trying to hold back his tears. "I...I tried to talk to you," he insisted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I needed you after Mom died. But you were usually too busy for me."
Doc Kesterson sighed; he DID regret never seeming to have quite enough time for his son back then. But he was the only doctor in the county who still made house calls, even to this day; plus he had his additional duties at the Red Mill as their doctor on call. Would he have done some things differently if he had had the chance? Yes. But it was too late for that now. "I'm sorry for that, Doug," he murmured sadly. He took a deep breath to steel himself. "But that doesn't change what you've done. And how much trouble you're in."
The country prosecutor cleared his throat then to get the Doc's and Doug's attention. "We are prepared to make a deal with you, Doug," he told him quietly.
Doug's eyes widened with a small degree of hopefulness as well as wariness. "What kind of deal?"
McFarland clasped his hands together on top of the desk, glancing over at the sheriff in the corner, as he advised him curtly, "You tell us everything - and I mean everything - you know about the people responsible for both Justin's injuries and Dale's death - and plead no contest to the charges against you, and we will arrange for you to obtain a lighter sentence at your hearing."
"How do I know you won't back down on what you're promising me?" Doug countered. "And just how much of a lighter sentence are we talking about?"
"Doug..."
"No, Dad, I want to know!" he growled, grasping onto one last sliver of rebellion. "And I'm not going to agree to anything unless I have it in writing."
The prosecutor eyed him with barely concealed irritation. "We don't work with verbal agreements," he informed him, almost insulted at the thought. "Everything will be well documented and spelled out clearly - once you hold up your end of the deal. As for how much time will be shaved off your sentence, right now as it stands you are facing a minimum of 35 years of hard time in the federal pen in Louisville; maybe even life in prison with the possibility of parole if you're lucky - only after the 35 years have been served," he told him, noticing the boy's face whiten in reaction. "However, we will recommend to the judge that in light of your...cooperation...that your sentence be reduced from murder and attempted murder to voluntary manslaughter and assault. That should shave at least 10 - 20 years off your sentence, and will take the possibility of life in prison off the table."
Doug's eyes narrowed. "That is not much of a deal," he told him stiffly. "I'll still be in prison for years."
"You will be either way," the prosecutor informed him flatly. "But which one is more preferable? Possibly leaving prison in a casket - or being able to enjoy some freedom while you are still able to? Take it or leave it," he demanded. "That is the best you are going to get. Otherwise, I will prosecute you to the fullest extent of the law - and the real people behind the two crimes will get away scot free. Is that what you want, Doug? To rot in jail, while the others are free to roam from track to track, committing the same type of crimes? Do you want that on your conscience, too? Or do you even HAVE one?"
Doug looked over helplessly at his father for support, but his heart sank as he noticed the hard look on his face. "Dad?" he whispered, suddenly feeling like that little boy again.
"Take the deal, Doug," his father told him sharply. "If you don't, you will only be making it harder on yourself, and letting the others off the hook. Do you want to be responsible for something else happening to the Taylor boy? Or someone else being killed because you weren't man enough to admit what you did and come clean? Finally do what is right. Take the deal, and tell them what they need to know to stop any more of this from happening." He paused, his face softening somewhat as he added, "I will never understand why you did what you did - and why you didn't come to me when you started to get in over your head. But God help me, I still love you. And I will do everything I can to support you. But first you have to help yourself."
Doug closed his eyes briefly in anguish; all of his previous bravado gone. The thought of going to prison petrified him; he had been in the local jail overnight on occasion - until his father would invariably show up to post bail - but he knew it would be nothing like being in the federal system. How in the hell had he expected to continue doing what he had been doing without suffering any consequences? Had he been so blinded by his need for just one more bet - and the possibility of becoming rich and being a 'big man' - that he had lost sight of everything else? Would this be any worse than possibly being killed for revealing his part in the others' activities?
"Doug?"
His name being spoken by the prosecutor made him open his eyes, noticing all three men peering over at him expectantly.
"Do we have a deal?" McFarland pressed. "It's a one-time-only offer," he told him. "Either you agree to it today - and tell us everything you know in order to get these men off the streets - or we prosecute you to the fullest extent of the law while they go free. Which one will it be?" He pursed his lips together in a no-nonsense way, and Doug realized he had only one choice. It wouldn't mean freedom - but it would mean that perhaps one day he might be able to walk out of prison and still have some small smidgen of a normal life.
Carding his hair with his fingers in resignation, he sighed. "Where do I start?"
The prosecutor nodded in satisfaction as he reached over to grab the phone on his desk. "Your information will be taped and recorded...and we will need your signature on some paperwork," he informed him. "Give me five minutes," he added. "And then...you start at the beginning."
Feeling his father's hand squeezing his shoulder in support, he nodded glumly. "Okay."