Jet (Marked Men, #2)(73)

My dad’s lawyer, opened up by going on and on about how assault was a serious charge, and how I had put my dad in the hospital. He said I had brought trauma and damage to the family. He brought up the fact that I had been in trouble before, and generally tried to make me out to be some kind of wild hooligan who was out of control.

My lawyer countered that my dad had instigated the fight, and that I had only been acting to protect my mom. It went back and forth like that for a while, with my dad huffing and puffing the entire time. I tried to sit still, tried not to glare daggers across the courtroom. The judge interjected that he had seen cases like this far too often in his court, and even though my old man wanted me in jail, I got just what I had predicted—a million hours of community service, probation for a year and fines out the ass. They also made me responsible for my dad’s medical bills and ordered an immediate protection order that said I couldn’t go within a hundred yards of him or the house for ninety days.

I readily agreed to all of it and had the added benefit of watching my dad go purple when I asked about postponing the community service and making sure the terms of my probation didn’t prohibit me from leaving the country for the tour. I heard my mom gasp when the case was ruled closed, but the same cop who had put me in the back of his car came around the table and slapped a heavy folder down in front of my dad. I wanted to get up and do a victory jig. It had taken every favor my lawyer had hanging in the legal world in order for it to go down like this for me and I was beyond stoked that the same cop was the one who had the honor of arresting the old bastard.

“Do you know what these pictures show, Mr. Keller?”

My dad’s lawyer was freaking out, calling out all kinds of crap that no one was paying attention to, and my mom was holding her hands up to her mouth when the clear, bright images, of my dad trashing and emptying out the studio, spilled onto the table in an array of visible guilt.

My dad went from purple to some other color I had never seen before, and stood up in his chair so violently that it fell backward, making the officers of the court tense.

“That’s not me!” He pointed a finger at me. “You little shit! You set me up!”

I leaned back in my chair and tried hard not to smile.

“I had security to prevent something like this from happening. It’s not my fault you got caught, and you bet your ass I’m pressing every goddamn charge he can think of.”

I tilted my head at the cop who was putting my dad in the cuffs.

“You’ve messed with me for the last time, old man. This is it, and I hope you rot.”

“I’m your father, Jet!”

I just shook my head and got to my feet.

“No, you’ve never been that.”

I couldn’t look at my mom or at the judge, who was watching the entire debacle with sad, knowing eyes. I didn’t even want to think about all the families in worse shape than ours who had come before his bench. I shook my lawyer’s hand, and agreed to sign all the stuff he needed to get together for my community service and legal fees. I asked him to check with the cop about getting the stuff my dad had stolen back, but he didn’t sound hopeful that that was an option.

I was walking out of the courthouse and pulling my leather jacket on over my stupid button-down shirt, when I heard my name called. I didn’t want to stop, didn’t want to talk to her, considering I was still bleeding from her picking that * over me the last time. There was something encoded on my DNA that made me turn around and wait for her to catch up to me, though. Out here in the bright light of day, I could see every line, every mark on her face that indicated a life lived in misery and suffering. She looked so awful and so far away. There wasn’t even a shadow of the woman that I wanted to call “Mom” in there anymore.

“Jet, wait just a minute, please.”

I swore under my breath and wished that I smoked so I had something to do with my hands. I shoved them into the pockets of my jacket and tried to keep my expression blank.

“I don’t think we have anything left to say, Ma.”

She fidgeted with the strap on her purse and refused to meet my gaze head-on.

“He’s your father, Jet. You can’t send him to jail.”

I sighed. I knew it was coming, but it still felt like a blow.

“Yes, I can. He stole from me, and he dismantled my livelihood because I wouldn’t cave in to his demands. Not only can I send him, but it’s where he belongs. I’m going to Europe for three months, Mom. I’m not going to be just a phone call away the next time he tries to use you as a punching bag. I’m not going to even be on this continent the next time he spends all your mortgage money on booze and hookers. So maybe locking him up will finally make you see you’re better off without him.”

She involuntarily touched her still-yellowish bruised eye.

“He only did that the one time and he wouldn’t have been so riled up if you just would have helped him, like you always help me.”

I laughed, and it was so broken, I felt it lash across both of us.

“Are you seriously trying to blame him smacking you around on me? Nice try, Ma, but that isn’t going to fly with me anymore. I’m finished trying to force something better on you, trying to pull you into the light. If you want to live in the dark, it’s your choice, Ma, and you have no one left to blame but yourself.”