Somebody to Hold (Tyler Jamison #2) - April Wilson Page 0,58
he says. And this time, when he tries to walk away, I let him go.
I have the strength to hold on to him—I have enough strength for the both of us. But sometimes too much strength isn’t a good thing if it leaves him bruised.
I watch him walk back into the bathroom. He runs water at the sink, and then I hear him brushing his teeth. I linger at the bathroom door just to make sure he’s okay.
As he wipes his mouth, I tell him, “Coffee’s ready. Come downstairs and I’ll make you a cup.”
Shrugging, he reaches for a comb and detangles his damp hair. After finishing, he drops his comb into the vanity drawer and walks past me out of the bathroom. “I’ll make it.”
* * *
While we sit at the kitchen table drinking our coffee, Ian avoids making eye contact with me. I think he’s embarrassed by his earlier meltdown in the shower.
I realize that simply loving someone isn’t always enough. There are forces outside our control that affect our lives. Things that can hurt him badly.
After we finish our coffee, Ian rinses out the cups and puts them in the dishwasher. I offer to help.
“It’s okay,” he says. “I’ll do it.”
Before I can insist, my phone rings, and I check the screen. “It’s Jud.” I leave the kitchen to take his call, not wanting Ian to hear anything that might further upset him. “Hi, Jud. What’s up?”
“I just heard about the plea deal you made with the DA’s office.”
“Yes. It was accepted. It’s a done deal.”
“I see.”
“You disapprove?” It’s obvious by the tone of his voice.
“Son, I hate seeing you plead guilty when you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not right. It was clearly an act of self-defense.”
“Yes, but pleading otherwise would have resulted in Ian having to testify in court, and believe me, that’s not an option.” I realize that now even more than ever.
“How’s he doing?”
“Not well.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“He’ll be okay. We just need to get past this.”
After my call with Jud ends, I call Ian’s father.
“Tyler, hello,” he says, in his brusque voice. “How is everything?”
“As expected, I guess. I’m calling to let you know I made a plea deal with the DA’s office. In exchange for pleading guilty, and thereby avoiding a trial, they’ve agreed to lower the charge to simple battery—a misdemeanor.”
Martin exhales a relieved breath. “Tyler, I’m sorry you’re in this position, but I’m grateful to you for sparing my son. How is he?”
I hesitate to tell him. He’s already so sure my relationship with Ian will end up hurting him. But if I’m going to get off on the right foot with Martin, I have to be honest. “He’s not doing so well right now.”
“I guess that’s not surprising, given the circumstances.”
“He’s afraid I’m going to jail.”
“But the good news is, it won’t be a long sentence. And you’ll be kept separate from the general population, so it won’t be too bad.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s Ian I’m worried about.”
“His mother and I will take care of him, don’t worry about that. He can come home and stay with us for the duration. We’ll keep a close watch on him.”
“Martin?”
“Yeah?”
“Has Ian ever threatened to harm himself?” I can’t bring myself to say the word suicide, but based on what I witnessed this morning, and the way he’s acting, I can’t rule it out.
He hesitates before answering. “He has, yes, not lately, but when he was a teenager. Why? Has it come up?”
“Let’s just say I’m keeping a close eye on him.”
“Understood. If you are incarcerated, his mother and I will take care of him. I promise you that.” He pauses. “One more thing, Tyler. I owe you an apology. I was wrong when I said you were bad for my son. I think you’re exactly who he needs.”
I’m stunned by his admission. “Thank you, sir. Your opinion means a lot to me. Your wife’s and Layla’s, too.”
He chuckles. “I don’t think you need to worry on the ladies’ account. They’re both smitten with you.”
* * *
Later that afternoon, I manage to coax Ian into sitting down with me in the living room. We put on a movie and relax on the sofa.
Pretty soon we’re snuggled together, neither one of us paying much attention to the film. He allows himself to relax in my arms.
Halfway through the movie, my phone chimes with an incoming call. I glance at the screen, hoping it’s someone I can ignore, but it’s not. It’s