Long Way Home (Thunder Road #3)

Isaiah narrows his eyes on her. “Him who?”

“Him.” She jumps up and touches Isaiah’s arm. “He’ll tell them and I won’t have to break this promise to James. He’s a good man. I disappointed him when I...” Her face turns red. “When I made mistakes, but he helped me as much as he could then, too. Just wait right here.”

She leaves. Isaiah pinches the bridge of his nose, then cracks his head to the side. “I’m sorry about this. My mom tries too hard when I’m around.”

“Moms can get that way,” I say, but I honestly don’t know. My mom has always been a rock.

“I’m sorry for calling you in,” Ruth says, “but I thought about how you used to help me some after James died because of Isaiah and that maybe you wouldn’t mind.”

“Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?” The familiar voice causes my body to jolt as if struck by lightning and Violet reacts the same way. We both turn our heads to the door and we’re met by the rising eyebrows of the detective.

“This is Detective Jake Barlow. Isaiah, Jake knows who you are because he met you as a baby, but he doesn’t know Chevy. Jake, this is James’s other son, Chevy. He found Isaiah recently and had questions about James. I thought it would be best if you told him.”

A muscle in the detective’s jaw jerks. “Why couldn’t you have told him?”

Ruth’s face falls and the detective nods like he understands. “Everyone but Chevy needs to leave.”

Isaiah doesn’t push away from the wall. “So what Mom said about him wasn’t full of shit?”

“If she told the truth, then no.”

Violet stands. “You know he’s just going to tell me everything anyhow, so I might as well stay.”

The detective tilts his head to the door. Because she respects him, she follows Isaiah and his mother out. He shuts it, then takes Isaiah’s place at the wall.

Fuck me, I need a beer. “So you knew my dad.”

“Yeah, I knew your dad. He’s the reason why I’ve spent the past eighteen years of my life with the gang task force.”

Maybe I had it all wrong. Maybe my first instincts were right. “Because he was a member of the Riot?”

“Because he went undercover in the Riot.”

All the scattered thoughts in my brain disappear. “What?”

“Your father was a cop. He graduated a year early from college with a degree in criminal justice. He told your family he was in liberal arts because he didn’t know how to break it to your grandfather quite yet. He always intended to go home and work on the force in Snowflake, but then things heated up between the Riot and the Terror and he asked the right people if he could find a way to legally bring the Riot down and they put him undercover. It was dangerous, it was risky and it’s because of his work that I’m able to build a RICO case against the Riot. With what you, Violet and Razor have given us and what your father gave to me years ago, there are members of the Riot who will die in jail.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why not tell Cyrus or Eli or anyone?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “We kept it secret to preserve the integrity of the case. Plus he was scared if it got out, even if he died, it would cause problems for the Terror, but mostly he was scared of the repercussions for you and Isaiah.

“The Riot knew about Isaiah because James’s life here in Louisville had to be an open book to the Riot. They knew Ruth was his girl and they knew she had his child. After James died, Ruth and Isaiah meant nothing to them. They were never associated with the Terror or the Riot.”

I rub at the slow throb in my temples. “The Terror would have taken them in.”

“I know, but I was also scared sending them to the Terror would paint a bull’s-eye on their backs.”

“You’ve been toying with the Terror all year. You fucked Razor up royally with the bombshell you dropped.”

“I needed him to talk to me.”

I open my mouth to argue, but he holds up a hand. “And it worked. He’s talking, they’re all talking and the bad guys are going to jail. Isn’t that what we want?”

I scrub my hands over my face. “He was a cop.”

“He was a cop. And so you know, he’d be proud of you for lifting that cell so you could track my officer.”

A short chuckle leaves my throat. “You saw me do it?”

“No, I guessed. Only explanation I could come up with for how your friends found Violet. Your dad was good with his hands, too. Could read people like you, as well. It’s what made him good at his job. Ever think of becoming a police officer?”

“No.” Can’t say it ever crossed my mind.

“Think about it. We need more people like you.” He pushes off the wall. “Here’s the thing. I didn’t tell you any of this. Until after the Riot are arrested and the trials are over, I didn’t know your dad, got me?”

He extends his hand, I shake it, and for the first time in my life, I feel like I might have some purpose for my future.





Violet

“I GOT AN A!” I sing as I dance my English paper in front of Chevy’s face. He tries to snatch it from me, but I dart around him and giggle as I skip ahead in the back field of my parents’ land.

“My name is on that paper, too,” he calls out.

But I take great pains to point to my name. “See, right here my name is on top and your name is on the bottom. Therefore, I get the A and you get the plus.”

Chevy flashes that dimpled smile and my breath catches in my throat. “Is that how it works?”

“Yep. That’s how it works.”

I wait the few beats for Chevy to catch up to me, and when he does, I hold the paper out to him. He takes it and reads through our English teacher’s comments as we continue over the dying winter grass and the new grass struggling to push through.

“Took her long enough to grade it,” he mumbles.

True. “But it took us forever to turn it in. She didn’t have to accept it from us, she didn’t have to let us write it together and she didn’t have to give us an A-plus, but she did.”

Chevy and I landed an A in a class where people are happy to receive a B, all because we told her that the poem was complete bull and that we don’t choose either of the poet’s stinking paths. We decided to forge our own.

It’s April—months away from this past fall’s upheaval. So many people in the Riot have been arrested, including Skull and Justin. Two Reign of Terror members lost their membership to the club for their part in spying on me. Some of the Riot have made bail, some haven’t. All are on the road to prosecution. So many things have gone right, some things have gone wrong. So many hearts have been broken, so many wounds are starting to heal. Overall life is moving forward. Each day away from the arrests brings another day of peace and each day of peace brings another level of confidence that there is such a thing as a future.