Incarceration would be temporary, but there was life on the other side, even if it wasn’t the one I truly wanted. I never dreamed when I went to save Heather that it would turn into a national news story. Even with that realization staring at me behind the iron bars of my cell, there wasn’t a damn thing I would have changed. I would have spent the rest of my life behind bars to keep her from dying in that storm.
I had one final pitch to throw at her before she drove way—one proposal that I hoped would change everything. All hope of making her mine for eternity faded when I saw that news story. I doubted she would even speak to me again when she saw the news story. Even if she made it home without turning on the radio, she was going to find out eventually. I just hoped she made it home safely before the illusion was shattered. It was easy to forget why I didn’t want to be found when she was in my arms, but I had been a fool to think she could be mine forever.
“I don’t like this.” I lifted my head when Sheriff James Anderson walked into view with a solemn look on his face. “You’re a fucking hero, Shane. That girl would be dead if it wasn’t for you. You have been nothing but a damn upstanding man since you moved here and I’m going to tell those motherfuckers that.”
“Thank you, Sheriff.” I nodded and sighed. “I made some mistakes a few years ago.”
One very big one—the one that would cost me my freedom.
“Fuck that. Every man watching the news knows they would be tempted to do the exact same fucking thing you did if they were in your situation. You had just found out he was fucking your wife before the divorce was even mentioned.” He spat at the floor.
“They would be tempted, but I actually did it.” I shook my head angrily. “Unfortunately, some of the charges and the medical conditions he claimed were just made up.”
“Yeah, I think anyone who heard them would believe that. If you could give a man permanent concussion symptoms and PTSD from one punch, I think you’d be a professional cage fighter with a championship belt around your waist. The story just makes him sound like a bitch. Try to get some rest. They’ll be here for you tomorrow.” Sheriff Anderson walked back towards his office.
I stretched out on the hard cot and stared at the ceiling. I hadn’t heard the latest news story about who I really was, but I could imagine what they were saying. I knew what I had done. I remembered every bit of it in vivid detail, from the anger I felt when I found out to the rage that engulfed me when I swung my fist in a blind attempt to quench my thirst for vengeance. It was like watching a movie in my head where the star was someone who looked like me, but had a completely different mentality on life than I did back then.
MORNING CAME AND I was escorted to a police car by two officers with reporters all around me. Wolf Creek had never had the attention of the national media before and I hated being the one that brought the negative spin on what could have been a very positive boost in tourism. I hoped we would make the trek by car, but when the police car pulled into the airport, I knew they were taking me by plane.
Fuck. I hate flying.
I sat at the back of the plane while people whispered about me. The words they said were both negative and positive. It seemed like some of them felt my actions deserved to erase my past. I knew that wasn’t reality, but it was nice to hear. I tried to close my eyes and get some sleep, but the roar of the plane just wouldn’t let me rest.
I really hate flying.
The
storm was gone, but there was enough turbulence in the air to make it bumpy. I looked out the window and saw the sprawling lights of the city below me. I never wanted to see so much overpopulation again, but I didn’t have a say in the matter.
“Come on.” One of the police officers took me by the arm when the plane came to a stop at the terminal.
The city appeared before me when we exited the airport. All the bright lights, the artificial colors, and the dulling of nature was just as awful as I remembered. And the air smelled like shit. It didn’t get any better in the six years I was away, and I certainly didn’t miss it for a moment. I caught a glimpse of a television screen and saw my ex-wife for the first time in years, talking to a reporter outside of the home we used to share together.
She was standing there with my replacement at her side. At least she did stay with him; it was the same guy I attacked. I couldn’t hear what they were saying but she seemed to be angry. She looked old with the shimmer of youth gone from her eyes. I didn’t see a single trace of the woman I once loved behind her hollow expression.
Damn. Life hasn’t been kind to you.
The caption at the bottom of the screen made it seem like a nationwide manhunt had been going on for six years, but I knew the truth. I was a forgotten man before I saved Heather. My actions had brought me back into the spotlight and it was the only reason they gave a damn about me or the charges that had been pending. I was basically hiding in plain sight, using my real name, and relying on the fact they didn’t care enough to look to stay out of jail.
Maybe that was a mistake.
After spending the night in a jail cell surrounded by drunks, I was taken to a small room to meet my lawyer. I hadn’t hired a lawyer, but I assumed someone had sent a public defender my way since I didn’t bother trying to get one. I could have afforded it for sure, but there didn’t seem to be a reason since it was pretty damn clear I was guilty.
“Mr. Black.” He entered the room. “I’m Amos Livingston.”
“Just let me plead guilty and get this over with.” I shook my head. “I’ve had enough of this circus.”
“Plead guilty?” He sat down at the table. “You obviously have no idea who I am.”
“You’re Amos Livingston.” I looked at him. “You just told me that.”
“Yes, I’m Amos Livingston...of Westbrook, Westbrook, and Livingston.” He opened his briefcase.
“Westbrook?” I leaned towards the table.
“Do you really think Heather’s father is going to let the man who saved his daughter serve a fucking day in prison? These motherfuckers are lucky he didn’t come out here himself and just start busting skulls.” He chuckled. “Legally, I’m not licensed to practice here, but that won’t be an issue because you’re about to walk out of here a free man.”
“How?” I narrowed my eyes at him, still a bit suspicious.