Home Sweet Home

Tilly heard her phone ring as she drove. She took a quick glance at her purse but decided not to reach for it. She wasn't going to risk even a traffic violation considering her current legal predicament. The phone chimed shortly after it finished ringing. Likely a voicemail or a text message. It could wait until she got home.

It always felt ridiculous stopping at a red light this late. No cars on the road except yourself, and yet you stop and wait. All you could do was be annoyed, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel to pass the time. In her rearview, she saw another car coming, then looked at the light again. Still red. She saw the yellow light appear for the perpendicular lane and started counting down from five. It almost always worked.

"Five, four, three, two, one," Tilly said, letting her foot off the break to start her roll. It changed right on time, and she put her foot down on the accelerator. The car coming from behind whipped around on the oncoming lane, and abruptly cut her off, Tilly having to slam on the brake to avoid a collision. "The hell?"

The man driving opened his car door and ran around to her. Tilly immediately recognized him and tried to put the car in reverse to get away. DK had come back for her. Before she could put it in reverse, she saw he had a bat and broke her window with one swing. She screamed and pressed the accelerator with the car still in drive, t-boning his car. Her airbag didn't deploy, but his did.

DK reached through the window and grabbed her by her hair, trying to pull her out of the car.

"Seatbelt, unclip it," DK ordered.

"Let me go!" Tilly screamed, clawing at his wrists. He grabbed her throat, and pushed her neck against the seat.

"Get the out of the car," DK said. Tilly couldn't talk, but unbuckled her seat belt before he did something worse. DK opened the car from the inside, and pulled her to the ground.

"You think I don't know who snitched? I'm the least you have to worry about," he said, then kicked her in the ribs. Tilly coiled her body into a ball to protect herself. It wasn't the first time she had to. "Where's my boy?" Tilly whimpered on the ground, and he kicked her again for not answering. "You took my fucking son from me."

Another car was coming down the street, but he paid it no attention.

"You thought you'd just go back to mommy and daddy? They didn't want to help you before, why would this be any different?" he asked. "They can't protect you."

The car arrived fast, skidding to the hard stop. Jason leapt out of his car, and DK raised the bat on full display.

"Get the fuck out of here you chink," DK said, trying to create a threatening posture with a pump fake. Jason stepped back to his car, and DK looked back to Tilly on the ground. "Where's my son bitch."

Suddenly, he heard the slider of a pistol. DK slowly turned to Jason, now armed with a gun, trained right on him.

"You a kung-fu Asian or a math Asian? You won't shoot me motherfucker," DK says.

"I'm a rooftop Korean, try me," Jason said. "Hit her again, and I will drop you."

"You even know how to use that thing?" DK asked.

"I'm a card-carrying member of the NRA, and I could shoot a button off your shirt at this range," Jason says. DK stated him down and took notice at how calm Jason was. He wasn't shaking, or nervous. Just focused. He'd shoot him, and he knew it. "Get on the ground."

"I'll remember you. I'll bring some boys with me next time," DK said, then started to walk back to his car.

"Get on the ground!" Jason shouted.

"Watch your back bitch," DK shouted back, and entered his car. As much as Jason wanted to squeeze the trigger, he didn't. If he put one more hand on Tilly, he could have with minimal legal repercussion. The second DK started walking his legal protection from discharging his weapon went with him.

Jason kept his gun on DK as he drove off just in case he suddenly pulled his own firearm out. DK merely shouted racial slurs and speed away. Jason lowered the gun and kneeled next to Tilly while getting his phone ready to call emergency services.

"No police," Tilly begged, and Jason hesitated.

"Why not?" Jason asked.

"Just please, don't," Tilly said. "It'll make it worse."

"I'm sorry, I can't do that," Jason said, and called the police.

* * * * *

The first squad car arrived within ten minutes, and the ambulance followed shortly after. A second squad car arrived, followed by a third. They were given a basic description of DK and his car, and an APB was put out over the net, with a request to spread it out across the county.

The EMT examined Tilly's injuries. Severe bruising, but it didn't appear he broke her ribs. Bruising was already forming along her neck, and she was hoarse when she spoke.

The first officer got her statement, while his partner spoke to Jason away from her. Illinois conceal carry has a duty to inform requirement, so Jason told the officer about his gun when asked. He presented his conceal carry and his FOID card. The officer said he'd check him out and stepped away to his car to look up his information.

Deputy Chief Jackson pulled up the stop thirty minutes after the first response. She drove over with Riley, still in civilian clothing and asked her officers to get her spun up on the situation. She commended the first responding officers on the APB push and said she'd make some calls to lubricate that.

"Mr. Rhee?" Diana asked as she approached. "Deputy Chief. My officers said you saved her."

"All I did was point a gun at someone," he said.

"That's all it takes sometimes. You're her coworker?"

"Her boss, but yeah."

"You said the car was loitering?"

"Outside of the restaurant. Didn't pay any notice until it was still there at closing. Pile of cigarettes, like he'd been there all day and never left," he explained. Diana ordered an officer to go the restaurant and check that out. It helped build the case against him for when they found him.

"How did you know something wasn't right?" she asks.

"Tilly told me she had problems with her ex. I saw that, and then he took off the moment she did. I put two and two together," he explained. Diana nodded along, impressed by his instincts.

Jason asked if he could see her, and Diana gestured for him to go ahead. He walked to the back of the ambulance. Tilly was sitting inside while an EMT was recommending she get x-rays done to check the extent of the damage.

"You okay?" he asks, and Tilly didn't even look in his direction. "Yeah I know, dumb question."

"I asked you not," she said to the floor. Tilly was worried this would complicate getting Howie back. The judge could view at as too dangerous for Howie.

"Tough shit," Jason said, and Tilly finally looked at him. "Dude threatened me as well. It's not just about your safety anymore."

Tilly exhaled, slowly nodding in agreement he did the right thing. She didn't like it, but she had let her problems bleed over into the lives of other people. People she didn't want to get hurt.

"What's a rooftop Korean?" Tilly asked to lighten the mood. Jason chuckled, and then sat in the ambulance with her.

"1992 LA riots," Jason began. "LA was burned to the ground, and Koreatown was particularly hard hit. Police didn't help, so the business owners, grabbed some guns and protected what was left. My dad was one of them. I was still pretty young, and not long later my dad finally left LA with my mom and me."

After the riots, Jason's father moved the family to Texas. Jason ultimately grew up in a gun culture, his father always hammering home the importance of gun ownership and the training required to use it if needed. His parents barely spoke English, and Jason spent much of adolescence translating for his parents. He shot with his dad every weekend. He still shoots with him when he visits twice a year. His father still doesn't speak English, but their neighbors love him, and even requested he sign photographs of him on a roof with a shotgun.

"I haven't said it yet, but thank you," Tilly said. He assured it a thank you wasn't necessary. "He'll keep coming back."

"Do you have gun at home?" Jason asked.

"I'm a felon," Tilly said flatly.

"How you holding up?" Riley asked on the approach. He waited until it looked like the police were almost done, then left his vehicle.

"My ex just smashed my window with a bat and dragged me out of a car," Tilly said with a sigh. She wiped her face clear of tears just thinking about it again. "I just want this part of my life to be over."

"Only way out is through," Riley said.

"Fuck your platitudes," Tilly snapped. Riley was taken aback and remained silent. "No matter what happens, I get one step forward, and DK drags me back a mile."

"Did you think he would do something so brazen?" Riley asked.

"I'm just surprised it took him this long," Tilly said. "He violated parole when he came here the first time. Nothing happened to him. He's going to skate again."

"Not for this," Riley said, but Tilly shook her head.

Riley looked at Jason and offered a handshake. They exchanged names, Jason saying he knew who he was.

"They got him," Diana said as she walked over. "Car pulled him over in Diamond Lake. He's in custody."

"Lot of good it'll do," Tilly said, disheartened.

"This isn't a cross state probation violation, he physically assaulted you with intent. DA has a pretty easy attempted murder case," Diana explained.

"How's that?" Tilly asked, unconvinced.

"He stalked you, pursued you, dragged you from a car, and beat you in the street. I can confirm I'd seen him sculking near your residence at an earlier date. Intent is well within the realm of proving beyond a reasonable doubt. DA will give him a plea, likely aggravated battery. But he's on probation, so he's going away for a few years at least. I know some people, I can ask the county DA to not even offer him a deal and throw the book at him."

Tilly let that sink for a moment. Someone was finally listening to her. In her history with DK, she had called the police on him four times. Nothing ever happened. Then he put drugs in her car, and got her sent to prison when he threatened her not to tell the police what really happened. Tilly eventually took a deal to get a time served sentence, not even probation because the DA in Indiana wanted the arrest so badly. DK was the first domino in a long line of bad people.

"All you have to do, is tell me right now, you're pressing charges," Diana said. Tilly had grown to trust Diana. She was always cautious what she said around her, but at this moment Diana was the only person she wanted to talk to. She wasn't offering comfort or useless quotes, but an actual long-term solution.

"I'm pressing charges," Tilly said with the most conviction she had ever said anything.

* * * * *

Riley couldn't sleep after Tilly's attack. She went to the hospital for x-rays and told Riley her car could still drive. Diana went home, the assault on a young woman made her want to spend the night with her daughter. It was a protective instinct caused by a horrid reminder that even in a town like Ferry Grove, those kinds of things can still happen.

He didn't like to write when he was consumed by negative energy, but he hated to admit it's when he did his best work. The raw emotion leapt onto the page with ease. His mind was racing too much to read, and even sitting down to rewatch the best season of his favorite show couldn't hold his attention. Those things were mood dampeners, while writing was an outlet. A place to let those thoughts go. So, he sat down in his office and started to write. When he emerged from his isolation, he had finished the third book of Shattered Cross.

The first draft was printed, and he let Debra know he'd mail the manuscript to his editor Troy. It would receive the red pen of death, be returned, and Riley would spend the time to make the corrections, consider his notes on recommended changes, then send it back for another round of red ink. With that out of his way, he sat on the porch swing with a cup of coffee, perfectly brewed like Tilly had taught him.

Riley had taken much of Tilly's concerns regarding DK with a heavy dose of skepticism. He knew she was in trouble, but so many of those mistakes were self-inflicted. While DK had shown up at his home, part of the threat felt exaggerated. Tilly was overselling how dangerous DK was. Simply put, he didn't fully believe her. Riley felt himself become the adults who didn't believe him.

As a child, adults didn't believe Riley when he said his foster mother put a cigarette out on his back. They didn't believe him when he said the rotation break of his elbow was the next parent twisting his arm until it cracked. That his broken ribs were not from an innocent tumble out of tree, at a house with a yard without trees. A foster father told him to take his pants off or he'd get in trouble. Because kids who came from families like the one he came from, all lie. They don't know any better.

"Morning," Tilly said from the front door. Riley didn't even notice she came home last night. Impressive, considering he only left his office a short time ago.

"When'd you get in?" Riley asked.

"Late. Technically early. I had to wait all night for the x-ray technician to show up," she explained.

"What's the damage?"

"Bruising, no breaks," she replied. Riley took a sip of coffee, pausing to think of something to say. "You were in your zone last night."

"Finished the book," he said.

"And the teenage girls of the world rejoice," she said, making them both laugh.

"I'm sorry," Riley said. It confused her because she didn't feel he had done anything to apologize for.

"For what?"

"When you told me about DK, I didn't take it seriously. I figured his bark was worse than his bite. That he was just a punk who wouldn't leave his ex alone," he said.

"His bark is worse, if he's dealing with someone his size or bigger," Tilly said.

"How'd you even get caught up with someone like that?"

Tilly motioned for Riley to make room on the porch swing. He scooted over, and Tilly sat down next to him.

"He was friends with my brother," Tilly started, trying to find the best way to explain it. "Howard, my brother, was an addict. Coke, heroin, cough syrup if he was desperate enough. They were both in a band, and he came to point where he tried to live the rock star lifestyle. Sex drugs and rock and roll. Pretty soon it was just drugs. Hurt my parents a lot, watching him, trying to help him.

"One day he took a little too much. My brother died in a dilapidated building in Chicago, choking on his own vomit. His body wasn't found for three days. Other addicts had picked him clean, and left him for the rats. I had just graduated high school. My graduation party had recently been ruined because my brother had a huge fight with my dad about money, and how he wouldn't give him his instruments because he knew what he'd do with them. The last time I saw my brother he was screaming at my dad. He wasn't my brother anymore.

"Howard was a great brother. That guy at the end wasn't the person who taught me how to play guitar," she said, Riley giving her a look of doubt. "I'm not going on tour with the Stones anytime soon, but I play."

"Sorry," Riley said with a grin.

"I went down a spiral myself after he died. Not quite in his fashion, but I went nuts. Drinking mostly. And fucking," she said in a low voice. She was ashamed of the sex more than the alcohol. "Dad needed to write more than one letter to get me back into school after I'd been too drunk to walk and missed a week of class. I was that drunk. I went through money like you wouldn't believe. I spent it like I had your bank account."

"DK was a familiar face in that chaos?" Riley asked, and she nodded.

"They were bandmates. My brother was bass, but he could play everything. I didn't learn until much later DK was his dealer too. He was charming at first, but aren't they always? I got pregnant and tried to go home. My dad wrote me one last check, and told me to never ask for anything ever again. He already watched one kid kill himself, he wasn't prepared to do it again."

Riley understood grief makes people do stupid things. Self-destructive things. When Ginny died, there was plenty he wanted to do to himself, but he knew Ginny wouldn't want him to. Do this day, she was his anchor to sanity. The first person who believed him when he told her something was wrong.

"Seeing how you know mine, what's the dumbest thing you've ever done?" Tilly asked.

Riley smiled, and leaned into the seat in thought. 'Where do I begin' he thought. Riley had done plenty of stupid things in his life.

"I ran away when I was fifteen, after a really bad foster house. I found out later the husband was finally convicted. Too many kids with too many similar stories. They didn't find me right away. This time I managed to hide from the system for nearly six months. I shoplifted, I pickpocketed, I stole everything I could. Never got caught for any of that. Ended up getting arrested when I bought too much Actifed in quick succession," Riley said.

"What is Actifed?" she asked.

"Antihistamine de-congest...

"...holy shit, you were a meth dealer?" she asked, nearly laughing. He didn't ask how she knew about that.

"No," he said. "I just bought as much of the precursor I could and sold it to meth dealers. It was Kentucky."

"That's just a meth dealer with extra steps," she said.

"Anyway," he said to regain control of his own story. "I get arrested, and because I'm a kid, I don't understand how the cops work. I let them scare me into a confession, and I did two months in juvie."

"Sounds rough."

"Actually, it wasn't that bad," he said. He had a fond memory of juvie.

"Thanks for telling me that," she said. She only had glimpses of his life before his celebrity status. She knew it was uncomfortable for him to talk about his life. The fact he was willing to tell her anything truly meant something to her.

"I need to go to the police today. Formally file charges, and hopefully put this asshole permanently in my rearview," Tilly said. Riley gave her a supportive nod, and Tilly walked down the porch to her car.

* * * * *

Diana spent a quiet Sunday at her home with Whitney. The council's vote on whether or not David Fitzgerald became Chief of Police was scheduled for Tuesday, and she wanted at least one more good night with her daughter before it happened. They ordered pizza and watched movies, and left the world at the front door. Until the world knocked at five in the evening.

Diana had sent Riley a text letting him know her plans, so she wasn't expecting anyone. Whitney answered the door, and asked the woman on her porch why she was there.

"I'm here to see your mom," the woman said. She had a thick southern accent Diana could hear from the couch.

"Are you kidding me," Diana muttered to herself as she approached the door. "Honey, give me a minute." Odette stepped back to let Diana outside.

"Nice house. Split level?" Odette asked.

"Are you out of your mind? This is my home. We don't do this here," Diana said. Odette just blinked without any concern and extend her the file she had tucked under her arm. "How'd you even know where I live?"

"You know what I do for a living, right?" Odette asked, and Diana didn't reply to that. "What would you say if I told you David Fitzgerald had a net worth of roughly ten million dollars?" Odette asked.

"I'd say we have the same pay grade and only a few years ago I still qualified for WIC," Diana said without opening it the folder. "I'm interested. Where does the money come from?"

"On paper, very, very, very, very, very, smartly executed stock market decisions. Hasn't lost money in a decade, and some years he sees a percentage in the three hundred range. You only see this with insider trading and congress, but I repeat myself. He gets audited every year by the IRS, but whatever he's doing is legal because he survives the process," Odette explained.