Hello everyone I want to thank you for leaving me wonderful reviews. I'm so glad you liked it. And thank you to those who are following, favorites, or just reading. And a big thank you to my beta reader you've been a big help to me with my story. I have to say I'm learning alot about the subject of depression. I'm not an expert on the subject or anything by any means, buts it's always a good tip to read about and research the topic your writing about.
Anyway in this chapter there is reference to my first story Pressure so hopefully you've read it also there's talk of depression and abuse.
A Brother's Revenge Chapter 2
"Okay Frank just relax. We're going to keep this low key. Would you like some water, or maybe a soda?" Chief Collig asked casually sitting at the table across from the older Hardy boy.
It was going on 9 am by the time Con and the chief brought him to the station. Now he was sitting in a room with his lawyer Carl Sims and Fenton on either side of him. Sam stood against the wall across from him. Frank just sat lost in his thoughts. It was so overwhelming his brain was working hard to process it all. He was here to be questioned about a crime he's been accused of committing. Of all things, murder!
Of course, the question of motive was clear as to why anyone would hate Hayden enough to want to kill him. Like Joe had mentioned earlier, Hayden hurt people. He was abusive...manipulative...cunning... sociopath. He abused his wife and nearly killed his own son for god sake's. Not to mention the disaster of a trial that ended up making Hayden a free man. He didn't care who he hurt.
That was one of the things Frank hated most about that man...the fact that he didn't care...all Jack Hayden cared about was himself. It was true he did express thoughts of wanting to kill the man. Anyone would've given the situation they went through.
Frank looked down at the handcuffs on his wrists, all at once his mind flashed back to that day in Hayden's basement, his wrists tied to that bedpost as he laid on a dirty old bed. There was Hayden standing over him, with a belt ready to beat him in his hand.
Thankfully his father and the police had gotten there in time, because any second longer... he would've gotten his skin ripped to shreds. In truth, Frank would've allowed himself to go through that. He was ready to take it. He pleaded with Hayden to let him take it, because Joe would've gotten the belt first. There was no way in hell he would've let that happen.
Frank's never really talked about the abuse, not even with Dr. Reese. He pushed the issue aside at the time. He's never thought about it until now. After all, it was his job as the older brother to protect his little brother. It's his job to protect the people he loves and cared about.
Unfortunately, he failed to do his job so many times. Joe got hurt anyway. Frank will never forget that helpless feeling he felt watching as Hayden abused his brother with…a knife…the rats… that closet... the fear in Joe's eyes is forever ingrained in his head.
And then flash forward to two weeks ago, he made the mistake of leaving Joe. He had just left their hospital room to go confront Henry. But, damn it, he had to go make it clear to that little lunatic that he's to stay away from Joe.
And then there's Seth and Phil...Henry killed them...Damn Phil is dead! He couldn't stop it! I should've been there, but I was selfish I was going through my own shit, damn depression.
It was selfish of him to go after Ryan Hayden when he came face to face with him on their floor. But he had to. The only reason he came out of hiding for one purpose only to kill Joe. Only to have lost the younger Hayden brother during the chase.
Then to his horror when he got back to the hospital to find the second floor in a blaze of fire. The room he had shared with Joe was right above the flames. That terrifying feeling of not knowing where Joe was...I shouldn't have left him. He was up there...thank God for Officer Baker and the male orderly who'd helped Joe out of there. Thank God the firefighters had gotten to them in time. He quickly shook the thoughts out of his head.
He shifted his thoughts back to the current situation Jack Hayden's murder. Oh yes he certainly hated the man, but the difference between him and Hayden was that he would never have actually acted on it. It wasn't his way of thinking, that was Hayden's way.
And Frank Hardy will never be anything like Jack Hayden. He had nothing to hide. He was innocent. He didn't commit this crime. It was the truth he did not kill Hayden.
So there was no reason to worry, at least that's what Frank kept telling himself, because deep down he was freaking out. He had a feeling Joe was feeling the same way. So as usual Frank felt himself sliding back into his old habit. To stay in control and not allow himself to fall apart. To put up a brave and fearless front, after all he knew Joe would be watching him.
And as he told his brother, we'll get this figured out. That was a promise.
Carl Sims leaned over and asked him. "Frank, did you hear the Chief?"
Frank slowly nodded.
Carl looked at his client with concern. He still couldn't believe the urgent phone call he had gotten from Fenton. Jack Hayden was shot dead this morning. Frank was arrested and taken to the station for questioning. A mystery caller had called the police to report seeing him committing the crime. He couldn't believe it.
Of course, Carl would do whatever he could to help his client. At the moment he was just concerned about what was going on with him.
He asked him, "Frank, Are you okay?"
Frank's silence was a bit alarming, that blank stare on his face and having experienced it himself, Fenton knew exactly what was happening. This would be a lousy time for depression to rear its ugly head. It's gonna be a task keeping Frank focused on the current situation and not shut down on them.
He reached over and put his hand on top of his son's hand, "Frank," he said a little louder to get his attention, "Please you need to respond."
The touch of his father's hand jolted Frank back into the present, his handcuffs clanged as he moved. What just happened? It felt like he just zoned out or something? He looked back up at everyone, he could see the concern clear on their faces. He composed himself quickly, all while saying nothing.
Sam noted the teen's pale face and heavy breathing. He didn't think he'd ever seen Frank like this. He wasn't sure what was going on with him. Everyone just sat back waited patiently for Frank to respond.
"I'm sorry, Dad, yes, I heard him." Frank finally spoke. He felt like an idiot for zoning out like that. He had to try harder, he had to get it together. He looked at the Chief. "Thank you, but, I'm not thirsty. Can we just get on with this?"
There was a short pause in the room as the Chief exchanged concerned looks with Fenton and Carl. "Okay, Frank, but if you need a break just say so."
"Thank you, but I'm good." Frank replied taking a breath and sat back in his chair to relax.
Turning on a tape recorder Chief Collig turned to Frank and began, "Let's start by going through your morning routine. You said you went for a run this morning, correct?"
"Correct."
"What time did you leave the house?"
"I left around 5."
"Do you normally get up around that time?"
"No actually, I get up at 4."
Carl raised an eyebrow. "You get up at 4 in the morning?"
"Yep, every morning", Frank simply replied. " I used to do it only on school days, but I got so used to it became my normal routine."
"May I ask why?"
"Well if I didn't we'd never make it to school."
Carl gave him a confused look.
"It's the only way for me to get the things I need to do done." Frank sighed nonchalantly, he began explaining his daily ritual, "You see I'd have to get up around 4, throw on a pair of sweats and, go for a run," He started counting off with his fingers, "Come back before 5, take my shower get dressed and ready for school. By that time Mom or Aunt Gertrude are up and in the kitchen preparing breakfast."
Fenton noted that Frank was starting to be more relaxed and his face less pale. "But if Mom or Aunt Gertrude are out running errands or doing volunteer work at the hospital. And Dad is away working on a case. Then it's up to me to do breakfast."
Frank took a short pause before starting up again, "So about an hour before we have to leave for school, usually I have to pry Joe out of bed to get him ready to go. After he's finally up showered and dressed, he insists he has to have his strawberry Pop-tart, but oh no, he can't just eat one," He rolled his eyes and said with annoyance in his voice ,"he has to have four," He held up four fingers, "and chocolate milk before we can leave."
Frank shrugged his shoulders, "Somehow we end up being at least 15 minutes late anyway."
Sam ran a hand over his mouth to hide the smirk on his face. One would think Frank was making that up, but he's not, that's the truth. That was a typical day of antics in the Hardy house.
Carl threw Fenton a look that said "really'. Fenton closed his eyes and replied with a sigh, "Yep, it's true, Joe is very spoiled."
Frank shook his head, "Now that he's a senior he'll have to do it on his own." his handcuffs clanged as moved his wrists. "Anyway, I've done it ever since Joe started junior high...until recently I had gotten out of that routine because of the Hayden case."
He added lastly. "However, I just started getting back into going for early morning runs again. It's a part of my recovery and therapy with Dr. Reese."
"Where do you go on your runs?" The Chief asked steering back to the topic.
"To the pier on Shore Road." Frank nodded.
"Chief when and where did you say Jack Hayden was found dead?" Sam asked.
'At 5 this morning in a ditch along Shore Road on the main road that takes you to the waterfront of the docks which was accurate to what the mystery caller had reported."
"There's not a lot of traffic on that road at that time of the morning." Fenton said thinking out loud. He pointed at his son, "Frank would've come up on him at some point."
"I didn't take the main road. I did hear sirens in that area, but since I'm restricted from investigating, " Frank replied in his defense. "I avoided it and took a shortcut like I always do, there's a trail that leads to the docks."
"So that's the way you go every morning?" The Chief repeated to be sure.
Frank nodded. "Yes. Every kid who's grown up in this town knows the shortcut."
"Who all knows your route?"
"Just my family, Callie and my friends."
"Did you see or talk to anyone?"
"No. Like Dad said there aren't a lot of people out that time of the day, especially along that trail." Frank answered.
He paused for a second as a thought came to him. "Wait, a minute. Come to think of it," His handcuffs clanged as he reached up with his hand and rubbed his chin, "The last two mornings I felt like someone was watching me, but I never saw anyone." Man he hated that feeling, "Dr. Reese, did explain to me that paranoia is a symptom in some cases of severe depression."
His voice deflated at the thought. "So I don't know if I was actually being followed or just imagining it."
Fenton and Sam exchanged looks with each other. They were not liking where this was going. If no one saw Frank out on that trail then that means he didn't have an alibi.
What had Fenton even more concerned is that his son was not as alert or aware of his surroundings like he usually is. Was someone really watching him or was he being paranoid like he said? Fenton's gut feeling told him something wasn't right. Was his son's life in danger?
Just then the Chief got up from his seat and knock on the door.
Officer Baker opened the door. "Here you go Sir." he replied, coming into the room. In his hand was a plastic evidence bag and hands it to the Chief.
"Thank you Baker."
With a nod the officer left the room. The Chief goes back over to the table and placing the bag in front of Frank and everyone else could see the contents, a gun.
Fenton's face paled. That's not just any gun. It was a Glock 22. It's the kind of gun police officers normally carry.
"Do you recognize this, Frank?" The Chief asked.
Frank suddenly went quiet and his face paled. His eyes were glued to the gun. He studied every inch of it for the longest time. He couldn't believe it! No, NO, NO, Why is this happening!
Fenton wasn't sure if he was going to say anything. He hoped he wasn't shutting down on them.
Again he reached over and put his hand on top of his son's hand he felt it tremble, "Frank, talk to us. Tell us what's going on. Do you recognize the gun?"
Frank looked up at his father with a tear in his eye, "Yes, I do." his voice quivered out.
"You do?" Fenton repeated his heart was pounding out of his chest. "How?"
"It's my gun."