The Departed

“What’s going on here?”
    “Dad, I wanted to tell you—”
    The older man held up a hand. “I don’t know what’s going on, Mark, but you need to be quiet now. I want a lawyer in here.”
    “There’s no need for one,” Dez said quietly. “I’m not a cop.”
    Mark shifted his glance to Taylor and lifted a brow. “Don’t tell me he isn’t.”
    Dez turned her head and looked at Taylor. “Taylor. Can you go outside?”
    Taylor narrowed his eyes.
    “He wants to do the right thing.” She held his gaze, silently begging him to listen. “Let him talk…and when he’s done, we’ll know if we need to have him protected—I’ll tell you. You know I’ll let you know. Later, the cops can talk to him. He’s not going anywhere.” She shifted her eyes to the boy and asked, “Are you?”
    Mark swallowed and whispered, “No.”
    “Mark, be quiet. You don’t need to say anything else,” his mother said, glaring at Dez. “Whatever this is, we’ll deal with it. I don’t want you in trouble.”
    He laughed, but the sound was harsh and ugly. “I don’t need to say anything? Damn it, Mom, I do, too. I need to, because not saying anything is killing me. I can’t live with this inside me. And you don’t want me in trouble? I deserve trouble.”
    “Mark…”
    He looked up at his dad and said quietly, “You always taught me that when I screwed up, I had to accept responsibility. That’s what I’m going to do.” He looked back at Dez and said, “I want to tell you. He doesn’t have to leave.”
    Taylor swore under his breath, then looked at Dez before looking back at Mark. “Actually, it’s probably best if I do. Ms. Lincoln isn’t…well, she’s not bound by the same constraints that I am. Think of her the way you’d think of a doctor or a priest, for the time being. You can talk to her. But it’s best that I’m not in here while you discuss this.” Then he gave Mark a faint smile. “I’ve met grown men who lack your courage, you know that? As admirable as it is, it makes it harder for me to walk out…but I’m glad to see it.”
    Without another word, he turned around and left the room. As the door swung shut behind him, Dez looked back at Mark. “I don’t want to know anything except what was going to happen yesterday and what happened today—I need to know about the girl and I need to know if you’re in danger, Mark. Got that? I don’t want to hear what happened months ago and I don’t want you trying to tell me. You can tell the cops all that later… with a lawyer , damn it. Get a good one, one who can cut you a deal. But for now…Yesterday. Today. That’s all…Am I clear?”
    He stared at her and nodded slowly.
    “Okay, then. Are you in danger? Did somebody try to hurt you?”
    “Yeah.” He licked his lips and then glanced at his mom when a harsh, startled cry escaped her. “I’m sorry, Mom. For everything.”
    He looked back at Dez and said, “It was Beau. I recognized his Mustang—he has a plate on the front of the car, it reads BOKXASS : ‘Beau kicks ass.’ I didn’t see him, but I know that Mustang. I was riding, and he was almost on top of me, getting faster. I just jerked the handlebars, felt the wheel hit something. I…I don’t know after that.”
    As his parents crowded around him, Dez remained silent. Finally, though, his father asked, “Mark, are you sure it was Beau? I mean, why would he do that?”
    Mark started to cry then.
    Deep, ugly sobs. There was poison in those tears, Dez suspected, poison that had been festering inside him for months and months. His parents stared at him, in complete and utter shock, for the longest time. Then, slowly, they looked at her. His dad was the first one to start to understand, and she saw that dawning horror, watched as he stumbled back a little from the boy who desperately needed him.
    Rising, Dez moved and slid an arm around Mark’s shoulders as she met the father’s gaze. “You know what happened yesterday,” she said quietly.
    The older man nodded.
    “Your son was there. He could have done two things: He could have screwed around and made it harder for me to help. Or he could have done what he did. He made it possible for me to help…whatever else happens, whatever you hear, remember that.”
    The mother continued to stare at them, mystified.
    Dez ignored them and caught one of Mark’s hands in hers. “You need to get this out, Mark. You said it yourself. It’s killing you. Get it out…and let me