Free If You See Her by Shiloh Walker

table and started toward his son.
    “What in the holy fuck did you do, Brody?”
    If they could have kept the dad quiet …

     
    Ezra watched it go from almost okay to outright disastrous in seconds.
    The boy had been about ready to open up for his uncle—Ezra had seen the relief in his eyes, glinting just under the tears.
    But then the dad had to go and open his mouth.
    Still, the kid manned up. Ezra had to admit, he was impressed.
    “It was an accident. Well, mostly.” He looked from his dad to Ezra, met his gaze and said, his voice catching in the middle, “I’m sorry, Mr. King. I was just so fucking pissed off, and it wasn’t even at you. It was just … well, everything. But then Uncle Remy was on me about the flowers and shit, and I know that was my fault, too, but I wasn’t thinking and … and … and … and … well. I’m sorry.”
    Ezra nodded and looked at Remy. Remy reached inside the briefcase, but before he could say anything, Hank hauled the boy out of the seat, hands cruelly gripping the boy’s thin arms. Ezra could see the way the kid’s skin went bloodless under that vicious grip.
    Bruises would form—he could already tell.
    “Sorry? Sorry for what? You tell me exactly what you went and did, damn it. I did not raise some sorry-ass punk.”
    “Damn it, Hank, that’s enough.” Remy’s voice was cool and level, a hard contrast to the anger in his brother’s voice.
    Hank looked at his brother and snarled, “You stay the fuck out of this. This isn’t any of your concern.”
    “The hell it isn’t. I’m family, remember? And in case it slipped your tiny brain,
arson
is a felony—lawyer here.”
    Hank looked back at his son. “Arson. You really didit. Damn it, boy. Admit it. Damn it, be a man and admit to me what you did to that man’s house. Admit it.”
    Brody blinked back the tears as he met his father’s gaze. “I burned it down, Dad.”
    “You little punk. Your mother would be so fucking ashamed. I’m just relieved she’s not here to see this,” Hank said, his voice harsh and angry. “If she was here now, this just might kill her.”
    “I’m sorry.” The kid’s face broke, tears building in his eyes.
    The look on that boy’s face would linger with Ezra for a good long time. Shoving off the counter, he said quietly, “That’s enough.”
    But the man wasn’t in any mood to listen.
    “Sorry.” Hank shook his head. “You think
sorry
is good enough? After everything I’ve done to make sure you have a good life, you do this and you think
sorry
is going to cut it?”
    Abruptly, Brody laughed, an ugly, broken sound. “A good life?” Tears spilled out of his eyes, and his voice cracked as he stared at his dad. “You call this a good life? You never look at me. You don’t even want to know me. You probably wish I’d been the one to die instead of Mom.”
    “At least then I wouldn’t have to clean up the fucking mess you made,” Hank bellowed, his face red, his hand coming up.
    Ezra saw it coming before anybody else and he moved, barely in time, his leg trying to give out under him. He ignored it, gritting his teeth. Catching Hank’s upraised hand, he shoved and twisted, using the man’s momentum and weight against him as he slammed the man’s upper body down into the table.
    From the corner of his eye, he saw the boy take off through the back door, but that was the least of his concerns.
    As Hank struggled against him, Ezra said, “Now that, Mr. Mayor, was one very dumb-ass move.”
    “Get the fuck off of me,” Hank snarled.
    “Sure. Once you calm down. But if you think I’m going to let you belt that kid, you got another think coming. I think life’s knocked him around enough … and you haven’t helped, it doesn’t look like.”
    He looked up at Remy and saw that the man was staring at his brother like he was a stranger.

CHAPTER
SIX
     
    H OPE …
    He could see her, just up there, pacing back and forth on the porch.
    Why didn’t she come