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“That it?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“Pretty much. I never saw Mateo again after that. I lost my house after my wife left and then I moved out here. It’s all I could afford,” he says with a shrug, embarrassment coloring his cheeks.
If this is all true, it may be enough information to rattle a confession out of Mateo. I do question the validity of his story, though.
“Why tell me all of this now? How do I know you aren’t lying to save your own ass?”
He lifts his gaze to mine, and the emptiness I see there is unsettling.
“Because I don’t care what happens to me now. Death would be so much easier than this,” he says.
I jerk my head back. I don’t like what he’s implying, and even more shocking to me, is how much I care. Sitting here in his house, looking at what his life has become, I know my brother wouldn’t have wanted this for someone he called a friend.
You can change this, my brother’s voice echoes in my mind.
“Thank you for telling me all of that,” I say, standing from my position on the corner of the table.
“Yeah,” he says, eyes following me, but still lost in the memories. “I hope it helps.”
“So do I,” I say, and turn back toward the front door.
I stop halfway across the room, turning back to look at Kent, sitting there, sinking into his couch, letting it eat him whole much like he’s let the world do to him.
“Kent,” I say, and he lifts his eyes to mine. “I forgive you.”
Tears spill from his unblinking eyes as he watches me go, and I can’t stop the nagging feeling I have to help this man get some semblance of his life back.
Once I’m back in my car, I pull the door shut and drop my head back against the seat.
Hot tears fall from the corners of my eyes as the memories of my brother and that day resurface yet again. I miss him more than anyone could imagine, but today, I feel his presence all around me, and I can’t help but think that he’d be proud of me and everything I’m trying to accomplish.
Wiping my face dry, I pull back out onto the street and call Rob.
I know exactly what I have to do next.
Keaton
“No way. Not happening.”
Sander crosses his arms over his chest, staring me down from across the kitchen table.
“Sander, I really wasn’t asking for permission,” I say, doing my best not to sound bratty and falling short.
“You really think Bodhi is going to be okay with you being out there?” He asks.
Sander came over today to keep me company while Bodhi tended to some business. We talked it through and decided that he would race in my stead. When I mentioned that I wanted to join them at the race this weekend, Sander all but forbade it.
I glare at him, but the challenge in my eyes doesn’t affect him one bit. Officer Harding and Sander are clearly two separate people. I’m finally starting to realize that. So, that means I need to stop challenging him and instead channel my best friend.
“San, come on,” I pout shamelessly.
“Keaton, I know that you want to be there to support him, but it’s not safe,” he says, the sharp edge of his voice slowly softening.
He didn’t get it. Not really.
This was my race. My ticket to easier times. And the whole thing was taken from me.
I know that I can’t race. I wouldn’t even try it with this cast. But to not even be there, cheering Bodhi on and watching from the sidelines… it isn’t fair.
