Page 99 of The Other Guy

SIERRA

“I love this place,” I say, looking around the steakhouse. It’s a chain restaurant but the food is always delicious. Their rolls and cinnamon butter alone are worth the wait. “I didn’t know they took reservations.”

“I called in a favor. Otherwise it takes a few hours to get a table on a Saturday night.”

“That’s because of these,” I say, taking a bite out of the yummy warm yeast roll.

“I’m glad you approve. I was a little worried taking you here instead of some lesser known place.”

“No, I love it here. It’s one of my favorite restaurants and I haven’t been in a long time.”

“Good.”

After ordering Cokes and our meals, ribeye for him and sirloin and shrimp for me, both with loaded mashed potatoes and salads, we can’t resist ordering their onion bloom. A signature appetizer that I would bet is ordered by at least fifty percent of their customers each night.

“I want to know more about you,” I tell him, dunking a piece of fried onion in spicy sauce and plopping it in my mouth.

“What do you want to know?”

“The story,” I tell him with a challenge. By the way his one eyebrow ticks up, he knows what story I’m talking about.

Without any hesitation, he launches in to a story that has my stomach churning by the third sentence. “My parents met when I was sixteen. Mom and I moved to Liberty from Arizona when I was thirteen. My biological dad wasn’t a good man. He used words, not fists. Well, he did until he didn’t, anyway. One night he got home from school and for whatever reason, he decided that words weren’t enough. I interrupted, thankfully, and Mom and I left.”

“Oh my gosh,” I whisper.

“Yeah. It was bad. Mom wasn’t going to put up with it, though. She was lucky, a lot of times it takes more than once for someone to leave. But since I witnessed it, I think she saw it for what the potentially dangerous pattern that it was.”

“What do you mean?”

“A pattern that wouldn’t have ended with just one night. Vince, that’s his name, he went off the rails that day. It wouldn’t have ended. Anyway, we moved to Liberty, but the fear was still there, you know?”

“I’m sure,” I add softly because I don’t know. For as weird as my parents’ marriage was, they were never violent with each other.

“A few years later, my dad, James, I mean, walked into Mom’s classroom because he was there for his niece. He took one look at Mom, her name is Carly, by the way, and he was determined to stick around. Then he met me and he became even more determined.”

“Because you’re awesome.”

“Exactly.” He grins. “Oh! Another part to my story, because you’re so invested and I know you’re dying to hear more,” he jokes since I haven’t moved and am leaning close.

That shakes me out of my stupor and I sit back a little, continuing to munch away on our appetizer. “Go on,” I encourage him.

“I brought Mom to a boxing gym so she could learn self-defense. It was the only thing that would help her to feel like she wasn’t helpless. She gained her confidence back. And when Vince showed up in Liberty, she had the courage to stand up to him.”

I gasp. “He came there?”

“He did. By then, she was with Dad and he knew everything that had happened. In front of a cop, Vince admitted to stalking her then tried to beat the crap out of my dad.”

“In front of a cop?!” I shout incredulously then shrink down when I see people turn their heads in our direction. “Sorry. In front of a cop?” I ask quieter.

“Never said he was a smart man.”

“Where is he now?”

“Prison. Would have been out by now but he didn’t spend his time wisely. Wasn’t a model prisoner, I guess.”

“Holy shit.”

“There’s my story.”

---