Strip Me Bare (29 page)

I sit on the bench
outside the courtroom. Today is Ryan’s sentencing hearing.

I know I shouldn’t be here, but I just can’t
abandon him when he needs me most. I keep holding out for hope,
praying the sheriff’s department finds Sean in time. It's 7:53 AM,
Ryan’s court appearance is at 8:15. Twenty-two minutes. Twenty-two
minutes left for fate to decide how Ryan’s future and mine is going
to play out. Life changing together or life changing apart, because
even if I do confront my father, there’s no guarantee I can keep
Ryan out of jail. I can, potentially, give up everything and get
nothing in return.

I hear the double doors at the end of the
long hallway swing open and the sound of high heels tapping
vigorously against the marble floor. I look up to see Emily and my
uncle walking quickly towards me.

“Alana,” Emily hugs me when she reaches me.
I’m a little confused. I wasn’t expecting them to be here
today.

“What going on?” I ask puzzled.

“Honey,” my uncle John says, a little too
grave. “They found Sean,” he hands me a piece of paper and I grab
it.

“They found him?” Hope sprouting in my voice.
I look down at the paper and my vision gets blurry.

“He was dead when they got there,” my uncle
says sorrowfully.

I read the police report: dead on arrival,
suspected cause of death, heroin toxicity.

I crush the paper against my chest and
stumble, my uncle catching my arm. I try to get a grip, but the
enormity of what I just read levels me.

Sean’s dead?

Sean’s dead.

All I can do is think of Ryan. This is going
to destroy him. After everything he’s done for his brother, this is
how it ends?
How much can one person possibly take?
And
where will he mourn? Alone, in a prison cell, accused of a crime he
didn’t commit.

No.

All at once my entire life falls away from me
and I suddenly start walking.

“Alana, where are you going?” I hear Emily
ask, but I don’t respond, I don’t even turn around, because if I
do, I’ll lose my nerve.

There’s an extreme transformation of time as
I walk. Everyone around me is moving at hyperspeed while I’m stuck
in slow motion. All my senses seem heightened, I can feel the
slight breeze from the air vents above me, smell the floor polish
percolating from the marble beneath me, hear my pulse thump in my
ears like a drum inside me, and taste the remnants of my last
supper on my tongue; a cup of coffee and a half eaten granola
bar.

I stomp up to the door of my father’s
chambers and am met by his watch dog, Miles. A court clerk who is a
miserable, little snivel of a man with an unhealthy predilection to
sweater vests, and treats me exactly like the spoiled rich girl he
perceives me to be.

“Alana, you can’t go in there!” he snaps.
“He’s about to go into court.”

“I know,” I snap back, surprising him.
“That’s exactly why I need to see him.”

To my amazement Miles backs down, but not
without a contemptuous glare. I grab the doorknob, close my eyes
and take a deep breath; I’m about to wash my entire existence out
to sea.

I burst into my father’s office. “Alana?” He
looks up immediately, perplexed.

“Daddy I need to talk to you.”

He’s a little taken back, but keeps his
composure, just like I’m trying to do.

“What’s the meaning of this? I’m due in
court.”

“I know. Daddy please listen.” Shit I should
have prepared a little better, because I don’t know what to say. So
I just blurt out, “Your first hearing, the guy. He’s innocent.”

“What? Alana, this is highly irregular and
completely inappropriate. I can’t discuss my cases with you.”

“I know that, but you don’t know the whole
story and you’re about to sentence an innocent man.”

“How do you know he’s innocent? And how the
hell do you know
him?
” My father’s eyes are as cold as a
block of ice.

“He’s a friend,” I stumble over my words.

“So then you know I’ve already convicted him
once on a very similar offense,” he replies condescendingly.

“Yes, I know, and he was innocent then, too.
His twin brother used his identity and Ryan went to jail for his
crime.”

My father scoffs like that’s preposterous.
Then a disturbed flash of recognition flickers across his face
after I speak Ryan’s name.

“I’m not lying to you. He did it because he
was afraid Sean would die in prison.”

“And I suppose next you’re going to tell me
the drugs they found on him were his brother’s too?”

“Yes!” I respond emphatically.

“So where is his brother now? Because it’s
obvious this boy is feeding you a load of lies. Blaming his
transgressions on someone else.”

“It’s not a lie,” I demand and my father pins
me with his eyes. “Ryan didn’t do it and Sean’s dead. He
overdosed.” I wrap my arms around myself, the words singeing my
lips. “I’m not even sure if Ryan knows.”

“Alana,” my father says unconvinced. “He’s
pulling the wool over your eyes, all he sees is a meal ticket.”

“Daddy-” I protest.

“Alana, enough,” he silences me, “this
conversation is over. It never happened as far as I’m concerned.
Now go home.”

“No.”

“Alana, don’t push me.”

But I’m going to push him; right to his
limit.

“You can’t do this. It’s wrong. He’s
innocent.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking
about.’

“I know exactly what I’m talking about,” I
contest, holding back the urge to stamp my foot like a defiant
child.

“He’s trash on the street.”

“He’s not and I love him,” I shout, my whole
body suddenly seizing. There’s a tightness in my chest and a
strange feeling burning my eyes.

My father stands slowly, “Alana, I am going
to say this one last time. Leave. Never speak of this again and I
won’t retaliate.”

Retaliate?
I’m his daughter for Christ
sake.

“
You won’t retaliate!”
I throw his
words back at him, slamming my hands on his desk, my palms stinging
on impact. I drop my head, trying to hide the emotion, but I can’t
control it, it’s too overwhelming.

“I have done everything you ever asked me
to,” I say tumultuously. “I’ve been everything you ever wanted me
to be, and I know,” my chest heaves, “I know you wish it was me who
died in that car accident instead of her.” My eyes are becoming
glassier with every syllable. “But I’m begging you now, if you ever
loved me, please don’t take Ryan away.” And as the words fall from
my lips, so do the tears from my eyes. Huge, wallops of jewels that
explode when they hit the desk, ricocheting tiny droplets all over
my hands and the cherry wood finish. It has finally happened. I
have been stripped bare.

I lift my head and look up at my father; he’s
frozen, stunned by my outburst; his eyes like two, huge, brown
disks, flat and inanimate.

“Alana, you need to leave. Right now,” his
voice is hoarse. “There’s nothing I can do.”

I stand up straight, tears streaming down my
face, it seems now that they’ve started, they won’t stop.

I look him dead in the eyes. How is this man
any part of me?

“I hate you,” I hiss. “And I’m done.”

“Done with what?” my father demands.

“Done being your daughter.” I turn and stalk
to the door, grabbing the doorknob. “Goodbye daddy,” I declare
without so much as a second look.

I tear past Miles and back down the marble
hallway of the courthouse, balling the whole time. I walk into the
courtroom and find Emily and my uncle sitting in the gallery. They
both rise when they see me; Emily nearly tackling me with a hug. I
sob into her shoulder as she holds me tight, my uncle rubbing my
back. When I finally lift my head and look at them, I’m distraught.
“I think I’m going to need a place to live,” I snivel.

They both nod feverishly, and Emily pulls me
back into her arms. Suddenly we hear the shuffling of feet and the
closing of a door. I look up to see Ryan being escorted into the
courtroom with a bailiff holding his arm. He halts when he sees me,
a myriad of emotions darkening his beautiful young face.

I’m sorry,
I mouth. The tears starting
again.

A moment later Miles announces my father. I
sit down despondently next to Emily. She holds my hand as I just
stare at the two most important men in my life; the one who never
loved me and the one who always will.

“Have faith, Alana,” Emily encourages.

“Faith, Em? My whole world is about to come
crashing down around me. I don’t think faith can help me now.”

We all stare at my father as he commands the
bench; stately in his black robe and serious expression. Miles
reads over the proceedings, recapping for everyone why Ryan is
here. Once that’s finished, it’s time for sentencing.

My father looks around the room impassively
before he speaks. Then he addresses Ryan.

“Mr. Pierce, it’s disappointing to find you
here again, although not surprising. You are unfortunately the
product of your environment and it saddens me that you were not
able to rise above it. But I understand the difficulties, I see it
in this courtroom every day. Waste that will recycle through the
correctional system until it finally just dissipates.”

I squeeze Emily’s hand tightly as I listen to
my father’s unconscionable testament; what is he trying to do,
twist the knife?

“I believe you deserve the maximum sentence,
Mr. Pierce. This is your second offense and I see a pattern
beginning.”

My heart is rupturing beneath my chest; I’m
not sure I can handle this.

“With that being said,” my father declares
dissatisfied, “some recent developments have come to light.”
Looking straight at me, he says, “I understand you are in a
relationship with my daughter.”

My body stiffens as Ryan glances back at me
dumbfounded.

“Don’t look at her son, I’m the one talking
to you,” my father asserts. “Do you admit to being romantically
involved with my daughter?”

“Um, yes sir,” Ryan says confidently,
stunned, but confidently.

“Is it still going on?”

“Yes.”

“Well then,” my father stares coolly at Ryan,
“because of that small, but vital piece of information, we have a
problem. I’m a by-the-book kind of man Mr. Pierce, and when I say
by-the-book, I mean, I want to throw it at you. If I had known you
had any affiliation with my daughter, this case would have never
even skimmed across my docket. And because of that fact, and the
conflict of interest it poses, I have no choice but to declare a
mistrial.”

A mistrial?

“Ryan Pierce, you are hereby acquitted of the
charges brought forth against you by the state of New Jersey, and
free to go. Court adjourned.” My father bangs the gavel, and my
heart suddenly jump-starts back to life.

I don’t know who to look at first, so I do a
quick glance around the room and every facial expression is the
same; one of sheer shock.

I don’t remember standing, or walking or even
breathing for that matter, but I suddenly find myself in Ryan’s
arms. He’s hugging me tightly, murmuring how much he loves me in my
ear and it starts all over again, like I’m being sprayed with a
goddamn super-soaker, the tears just won’t stop.

“Mr. Pierce,” my father announces
authoritatively, “I’d like to see you in my chambers.”

No ifs, ands or buts about it.

Ryan runs his thumbs across my cheeks, “I
don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry.”

“You haven’t. No one has.” I sniff.

“Don’t stop.”

“What, crying? Why?” I wipe my face with the
back of my hand.

“Because I want to kiss away every tear.”
Then he gently swipes his lips over mine, “I’ll be back.”

“You don’t seem nervous.”

“I’m not. The only thing that scares me is
not being with you,” he says as he runs his hand down my arm,
heading off in the direction of my father’s chambers.

Ryan strides over to where Miles is waiting
in the back of the courtroom. He enters, then Miles closes the
door. And I just can’t help myself; I walk brusquely after him,
past the bench and up to the door. Then I press my ear against the
wood. What I wouldn’t give for a warrant and a wiretap right
now.

“That’s incredibly rude,” Miles bristles.

“Your existence is incredibly rude,” I snap,
then return to eavesdropping.

It surprises me how clearly I can hear their
voices through the dense wood. “Alana has told me some interesting
tidbits about you and your brother. I don’t take my daughter for a
liar Mr. Pierce, but I would like to hear it from you.”

Ryan is silent for a second before he
launches into the story of him and Sean.

Sean. Ryan doesn’t know about Sean yet and I
dread having to be the one to tell him. This day is nowhere near
close to a happy ending.

The last thing I hear Ryan tell my father is,
“Sometimes I feel sorry for him, sometimes I feel fed up and tell
myself it was his choice to ruin his life.”

There’s a long pause.

“That must be a very difficult thing to live
with,” my father comments.

“I’m sure I don’t have to tell you it is,”
Ryan responds.

Then another long pause.

“How emotionally invested are you in my
daughter?” my father asks bluntly.

“I want to marry her, sir,” Ryan replies
openly, and it makes me wish my father would officiate right on the
spot.

“And is my daughter aware of this?”

“Yes.”

“And she’s agreed?”

“Um, no, not exactly.”

“Would you like to explain that
statement?”

“She didn’t tell me yes or no. She just said
I had to ask in order to find out her answer.”

I hear my father grunt, and I don’t know if
that’s good or bad. “I see. And were you going to ask my permission
first?”