The Defiant: An Unbeaten Path (14 page)

She raised an eyebrow and asked him, “Whose house is this?”

Vincent gulped hard, thought about his answer, then wondered why he wouldn’t be honest. What did he have to prove? he thought. “This isn’t my house, although technically it is now since they gifted it to me before they left.”

“Who would gift you a house like this?” she asked, a tone of doubt in her voice.

“They did, but how can you live so close to someone and not know your neighbors?”

“Don’t divert; whose house is this?”

“Roger Puller and his family.”

“So this is the famous Puller compound?” she asked, taking another drink.

“So you know them?”

“Know of them, they kept to themselves, very private people. Some say he was strange, very eccentric; you know, the crazy-billionaire type?”

“Actually, I don’t. I’m just a Marine from Idaho.”

“A Marine like from Camp Pendleton?”

“Yeah.”

“Why aren’t you there?”

“I’ll tell you the short version. My helicopter crashed not far from here. Roger and his family saved me; they brought me here and patched me up. After several days they took off and left me the keys to the place.”

“You still didn’t explain why you’re still here and not back on base.”

“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” he asked then took a large drink. “My parents are in Idaho and they’re getting up in age. If I went back, I’d probably never get a chance to check on them. I plan on going back one day, but not just yet. My plan is to head north very soon.”

She finished her glass and pushed it towards him for a refill. “I hope you know I wasn’t serious about not wanting to live. I’m just emotional and that came out. My parents are older too and live in Oklahoma. Before Ron got hurt, our plan was to go there, but well, you know what happened. I’m looking at finding a way there, just not sure how that will happen without a car.”

Knowing that she’d probably never make it to Oklahoma tugged at Vincent’s heartstrings. They were two people with similar objectives, but only one had the means to accomplish it. He felt bad for her, but could he really give up on his parents to help a widow and her child?

She tipped the glass back again and emptied it with one large drink. A dribble of wine ran down her chin, making her laugh. “I think I might have had too much.”

“One more for the night,” Vincent insisted as he went to refill her glass.

“Nope, that’s enough for little old me. I’m not much of a drinker and that was past my limit. Thank you for everything, Gunner, much appreciated.” She stood and upon her first step staggered a bit. Catching herself, she chuckled, “See, a bit too much.”

“Have a good night, Bridgette.”

She stumbled out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

He was going to call it a night but looked at the half-full bottle and said, “Why not?” He filled his glass and walked into the living room. Finding the large leather cushion chair, he took a seat. The yellow glow from the candles cast flickering shadows across the room. He started to question his plan for Idaho. He knew what his father would tell him to do. In fact, his father would be disappointed in him as a man if he left her and Noah. Thoughts once again came up about the crash and why he survived it. It was a nagging question for him. Why did he live while the others died? He had heard of survivor’s guilt and knew it was a symptom of PTSD but would never consider what he had as PTSD; that was for everyone else.

His father had been a large part of his life, and one lesson he had drilled into his head was that everything that happens in life has a meaning and not to find a negative meaning but a positive one. He had taken that lesson throughout his life and had been applying it to the crash. There was a reason he survived that crash and it probably wasn’t to go home and check on his parents, it was to be helpful to those in need. He then thought of Bridgette and Noah and saw that fate had placed in front of him two people who needed help, so if that was fate’s wish, he’d fulfill it.

CHAPTER FIVE

“There is no education like adversity.” – Benjamin Disraeli

Wellsville, Utah

When Nicholas and the others received word that Bryn would survive her wounds, they rejoiced; however, that joy was quickly dashed when the word that followed told of Brock’s death. Needless to say, it made for a difficult and tenuous night.

Nicholas didn’t know what Brock’s death would mean to Bryn or his group, but he was sure it wasn’t good. He tried to reassure himself that Rob’s and Brock’s deaths equaled out, but deep down he knew that wouldn’t be the case.

Almost in an instant the town’s hospitality had ceased. The picnic that had been scheduled was canceled, and the evening was spent listening to howls and protest outside their house. Nicholas ordered they double up on watch for the night just to make sure no one tried anything stupid.

The new day did not bring new opportunities; in fact, it had proven to be tough for the group. When Nicholas and Sophie went to the hospital to visit Bryn, the security posted there refused them access. When he tried to go see Chad at the city offices, he too refused to meet with him and had his security escort him away. The trouble for Bryn went directly to Chad’s opening speech to Nicholas. In that speech, Chad mentioned the town’s survival rested upon the rule of law, and it was obvious to Nicholas that rule of law was in full swing.

Nicholas couldn’t just sit and wait. He had to find out what they should be expecting, plus he needed to get Rob’s body, which no one seemed to know about.

Nicholas and Sophie returned to the city offices, and this time were not taking no for an answer. They walked in and decided to camp out until he returned.

“Mr. McNeil, the mayor does not wish to see you right now. As you can imagine, he’s mourning his son,” Sally informed.

“Tell Chad that I offer my condolences, but what is going on with my people is highly inappropriate,” Nicholas countered.

“Mr. McNeil, he is not available, but maybe I can have you meet with someone from the council,” Sally said, offering a solution.

Nicholas thought about the alternative and decided to take it; he figured that at least he’d be talking with someone that might be able to influence the circumstances for Bryn.

Sally walked them down to the conference room and told them to wait.

Seconds later a man walked in that Nicholas remembered meeting the other day.

“Tom Fielding, how can I help you?” he asked. Tom was middle-aged with premature graying hair and sported a small belly that jutted out. He stood just shy of six foot and at one time was the local star high school football player.

“Thanks for meeting with us,” Nicholas said, standing and offering his hand. Nicholas was determined to play whatever political or congenial thing he had to in order to save Bryn.

“Not a problem, but you can imagine we have a lot we’re dealing with, but I’m not sure how I can help.”

“I’m Nicholas McNeil…”

“I know who you are, I remember you from the other day, but I don’t know who this is,” Tom said while looking at Sophie.

“Sophie, I’m Bryn’s sister.”

“Yes, your sister, Bryn. She’s in a bit of trouble,” Tom blurted out.

“That’s why I want to meet with Chad and sort this out. Bryn is a good person, and this entire thing is being blown out of proportion,” Nicholas declared.

Tom scrunched his face and asked, “You do know who Brock was?”

“Yes, I’m aware, but the thing was a mistake. She was only acting to defend herself from someone she didn’t know. The world out there is not like it is in here.”

Tom leaned on the table and placed both his elbows down. He exhaled heavily and said, “I don’t know what I can do for you. The wheels of justice are moving forward. We are only able to function as a town if we have rules and laws.”

Nicholas had to stop himself from jumping on Tom’s comment about rules and laws. If he ever took the time to step out from the protective bubble they were living in, they’d see that while they have a set of laws, there’s another when you’re struggling to survive.

“I’m sorry, did Sally offer you guys something to drink?” Tom asked as he pivoted and showed the typical Wellsville hospitality.

“No, we don’t want something to drink, we want to see our friend, and we want Rob’s body released to us so we may bury him,” Nicholas snapped.

Tom smiled and said, “No need to get upset, and I would highly suggest not barking at someone who might be able to help you.”

“So you can help us?” Sophie asked enthusiastically.

“I can’t make any guarantees, but Bryn will need legal representation, and there I can be of assistance,” Tom said, showing his large white teeth as he smiled.

“Legal representation for what?”

“We run a tight ship around here, and the process has to go through its course.”

Nicholas had heard enough. “This is complete bullshit. I want to see her and talk with her, now!”

“Now, now, please calm down. You getting upset won’t make that any easier. Once they have talked with her.”

“Oh, you mean interrogate!” Nicholas barked, interrupting Tom.

“Mr. McNeil, we don’t interrogate people here. We just need to ask her a few questions.”

Nicholas turned to Sophie and said, “This is unbelievable, this is truly unfucking believable.” He then looked back at Tom and asked, “Doesn’t she get to speak with an attorney or something, a phone call? Wait, hold on, I’m acting like this is some legitimate process. This is total bullshit. Bryn did nothing wrong; she defended herself, nothing more.”

“I’m sorry you’re so upset, but this is our system.”

“Well, your system sucks.”

“You wouldn’t be sitting here if Brock, the man your friend murdered, hadn’t saved you.”

“Hold on, hold on, what did you just say?” Nicholas asked, his temper almost reaching a boiling-over point.

“Brock saved you.”

“No, the other thing.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Tom said.

“You said murder.”

“Yes, murder. Mr. McNeil, your friend will be charged with the murder of the mayor’s son, Brock, later today. A swift trial will commence after that.”

“And what if she’s found guilty?” Sophie asked, her breathing rapid.

“Why, she’ll be given a sentence, and that is…” Tom paused, knowing the next thing he said would not go over well. “Death.”

Vista, CA

Vincent woke at first light to hear Noah playing in Zach’s old room. Not wanting to disturb him, he peeked in and smiled. It was good seeing him be a kid.

A tinge of pain came from his head. It could only be one thing, a hangover. Wine wasn’t his favorite alcoholic beverage, but when there’s only so much to choose from, you take what you can get. He didn’t mind the taste of it; it was the headaches he’d almost certainly get.

Down in the kitchen, he downed two tall glasses of water and hobbled around the house, checking the doors and looking outside.

Upon completing his tour of the house, he found Bridgette in the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Vincent said, smiling. He had enjoyed his evening with her and felt like he had come to know her a bit better. He was also excited to talk about his plan to help her and Noah.

She didn’t say anything, but stood staring out the window.

He hopped to the kitchen island and took a seat on a stool. “I’m feeling that wine this morning.”

She still didn’t say anything and didn’t even turn to face him.

Concerned, he asked, “Do you have a raging headache like me? I hope not.”

Finally speaking, she gave him a clue of where her mind was. “What has the world become?”

“The world has gone to shit,” he replied.

“I was never one of those people who believed this could happen. I just never imagined that something this huge could happen. How did we allow this to happen? How?”

Her back still faced him, but he didn’t need to see her face to know she was crying. He could hear the tears in her trembling voice.

Vincent knew, but he didn’t want to really talk about it.

“I’m a fool for thinking this perfect little life I had with my husband and child could last. I was lost in the lie of our lives. It was all just a big lie. I never thought it was this fragile. I just don’t understand how it could all fall apart so fast, so goddamn fast.”

He stood and walked up next to her and saw the tears streaming down her face. He placed his hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off.

“Please don’t touch me!” she snapped and wiped her cheeks. “I don’t need your sympathy, and I certainly don’t need your affection.”

“Sorry.”

She turned and in a vicious tone said, “And what do you think this is, you and me? Do you think you’re some sort of hero? I’m a woman who has just seen her husband die and her son almost sexually assaulted. I’ve been raped and beaten since all of this began. Do you think you can help me and somehow all of that goes away? You think that we might have something, that I’ll just open my legs for you?”

“Hold on a second, I was just trying to give a bit of comfort, nothing more,” Vincent said, defending himself.

“No, you weren’t. Men are fucking pigs. You only think with your cocks.”

Vincent was in total disbelief at her outburst.

“I don’t know you, and what I do, if it’s true, isn’t all that impressive.”

Hearing enough, he hopped away from her and grabbed his crutches. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Noah standing in the doorway.

She continued her emotional diatribe, but Vincent wasn’t listening, he kept staring into Noah’s sad eyes.

After a few minutes of yelling and crying, she stormed off. On her way out of the kitchen, she almost knocked Noah over but took no notice and raced upstairs.

Vincent hurried to Noah and asked, “You all right, little buddy?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry you had to hear that.”

“I’m used to it.”

“Your mommy yells a lot?”

“Especially when she doesn’t have her medicine.”

Then it became a bit clearer for him. “Did your mommy run out of it?”

“Yes, when we went to get stuff for my dad, she was also trying to find medicine for her emotions.”