CHAPTER TWO
DOMINIC
The sound of rustling, bumping and clanking wakes me from my nightmare induced sleep. I blink and groan, shielding my eyes from the sun filtering into my room. I was too tired yesterday to close the curtains before passing out. With my limbs straining and unknotting, I sit up in my bed and look around. A flash of longing hits me at the absence of my favorite companion, Natasha. I push it down, assuring myself that she will soon be reunited with me again.
For a room that has not been occupied in over twenty years, it looks too clean. I wonder if my mother has been keeping it clean with the hopes that I will return. I sigh, my heart aching from the thought of my mother hoping and waiting all these years for me to come back home.
I choose not to dwell on the thought and go downstairs to see her. After using the toilet and freshening up, I head downstairs and find my mom in the kitchen, brewing coffee. She looks like she just survived a zombie apocalypse, with her white hair pointing towards different directions and bed marks on her face. I watch as her frail hands grip the cup and bring it to her mouth for a sip. She moans at the taste, making me smile. I did get my moaning over food from her.
After watching her for a while, I decide to make my presence known by clearing my throat. She jolts in shock and swivels round to stare at me with wide eyes. I watch as recognition sips into those gray eyes and they harden immediately. "What are you doing here? I thought I dreamed of you coming back last night," She says, her voice colder than ice water.
I gulp down the fear in my throat and smile. "Hey, mom," I say, my voice sounding pathetic even to my ears. Imagine me, a forty two year old man, scared to talk to my own mother. This is what happens when you decide to run away from your demons instead of facing them. I could have stayed back. Even if not for myself, but for her. But I chose to be a coward. I chose to run away. Even till now, I am still a coward.
"Mom? Oh, please! Now you remember you have a mom?" She says with so much disdain, it has my skin breaking into goosebumps. And not the good kind. I remember her calling and texting me for months after I left. She'd leave voice notes upon voice notes until I got angry and smashed the phone just so she could stop reaching out to me. I just wanted to be forgotten. I didn't want her to think of me or miss me. I wanted her to move on and find happiness. The one person that made her so proud and happy had been taken from her, I was just another delinquent with too much trouble to be contained by anyone. All I ever did was get into fights, sleep in the cell and get suspended. She didn't deserve someone like me.
"Why did you come back, Dominic?" She asks, drawing me out of my dark thoughts. I blink at her and sigh, scratching the scar above my left eyebrow. That scar never got the chance to heal because I keep scratching it. It's not like I can help myself, it helps relieve stress. "I…I…I'm here…I'm here to stay," I stutter out and hold my breath, waiting for her reaction.
She lets out a humorless laugh, staring into her cup of coffee. "Stay? Why now?" She asks, looking up at me and I have no idea what to say. What do I say to that? How can I tell her the real reason I'm here when I'm not even certain of it myself?
"I don't want you here, Dominic. Whatever reason you have, I don't care. You left without a single word twenty three years ago. Go back to wherever you're coming from," She says sharply, her eyes glaring at me with anger and hatred. I feel my heart shatter at her words and I take a step back, bumping into the wall.
Of course, I expected her reaction would be like this, but it still hurts nonetheless. "I-I know you don't want me h-here…" "That's right, I don't want you here. Now leave," She spits out, cutting me off. My heart breaks further, but I will myself to act unaffected. I knew this would happen. I told myself I was ready. I should be ready.
I stare at my aged mother, my heart breaking at how sad and angry and alone she looks. With a heavy heart, I straighten and school my features. "You can't send me out of my house, mom. This house belongs to you as much as it does to me," I tell her, acting a lot bolder than I feel. With bated breath, I wait for her to haul insults at me and sigh in relief when she just shakes her head and turns away.
Getting the message that she wants me gone, I walk out of the house and call my best friend, Whit. Whit Black is the only person I have allowed to get close to me in all the years I stayed in California. I didn't want to get close to anyone, because what good does that do exactly? You only end up getting hurt and abandoned.
The phone rings a few times before he answers. "Yeah, man. I'm like an hour away from you," He says, making me smile as I shake my head. Leave it to Whit to always get straight to the point. No beating around the bush. "Good morning to you too, Whit," I tell him and chuckle when he groans, cursing at me for being a sarcastic piece of shit. "I know you're only calling because of your babygirl, Dom. I'm bringing her to you," He says in a chestizing voice making me feel like an impatient child. I roll my eyes at his tone because I'm used to Whit speaking like he is the only mature person on the planet and the rest of us are children,even though he's just thirty eight years old. The fucker seems to have forgotten that I'm four years his senior.
"Just get my babygirl back to me quickly, Whit. You know how I get without her," I tell him and grin when I hear him snot and mumble something. "You talking shit about me to her," I say with certainty and the imbecile has the nerve to laugh at me before hanging up.
I sigh as the small moment of happiness ends and I'm thrust back into the mess of a reality called my life. I bury the hurt I feel and tune my mind into work mode. I didn't come back to Sedona just to patch things up with my mom. Something brought me back here. More like someone did.
A few days ago, I received a strange letter from an unknown sender, no name, no address, nothing. It only had a few words written on it:
IT GOES DEEPER THAN YOU THINK
15/05/2002.
I nearly had an aneurysm when I opened the letter. The moment I saw the date, I knew what it meant. That was the day my brother, the then Sheriff of Sedona, lost his life in a shootout with a criminal. I had called Whit whose house is an hour's drive from mine at two in the morning, panicking and telling him to get over to my place immediately. He tried to trace the sender, but to no avail. And that's saying a lot, considering Whit is the best tech guy I've ever met and that is not an exaggeration, because I have met and worked with a lot of tech personnels in the fifteen years I worked as a detective.
I sigh in frustration, wondering who the hell sent me that very cryptic letter. What exactly did they mean by it goes deeper than I think? What do they know about my brother's death? Was he not killed in a shootout like I was told? Groaning in anger and frustration, I drag my fingers through my short dark brown hair. Nothing has ever been easy for me. It's always been from one problem to another. Even after leaving Sedona and enrolling in the California police academy, I still found it difficult to stay out of trouble. It took me nearly getting kicked out to get my shit together. After years of putting my life to good use by working for the government as a detective, I'm finally retired and ready to live my quiet, lonely life till I die. Only for me to receive a message stating my brother didn't die the way I thought he did!
The town's police station comes into view and I take a deep breath, telling myself to keep it together before walking into the station. I take in the sight before me, with officers running around while some are huddled in different corners with their heads pressed together and files in their hands. It's total chaos in here. For a small town like Sedona, the station seems to be too busy. Everyone is so busy with one thing or the other, that no one notices my arrival. I scowl in disapproval at this. I could easily pop out a gun and put everyone down in a matter of seconds. I spot a familiar face from my past and I scowl at the way he's yelling at a young police officer who has his head bowed and his fingers clenched. I take a step towards them and watch him go completely stiff when he makes eye contact with me over the young officer's head. "Captain O'Callaghan! It's been a while!" I say with as much enthusiasm as I can muster.
He stares at me in shock, before his expression schools into a cool indifferent facade, his eyes narrowing at me when I stop in front of him. He dismisses the young officer with a flick of his wrist, his eyes locked on me . "It's Sheriff O'Callaghan, Dominic Van Beek. What are you doing here?" He asks, resentment flashing in his eyes.
Yes, O'Callaghan, I resent you as much as you do me. Fucking old piece of shit. "Ah! You're a sheriff now? That's surprising," I say feigning surprise and grin when he frowns at my statement. I already know the old fart's the current sheriff of Sedona, but I love to rile him up. "Surprising? I've been sheriff for over a decade! What are you even doing in Sedona, Van Beek?" He asks again and I sigh with a roll of my eyes. Why does everyone keep asking what I'm doing in my own hometown! First, Marcy, then my mom, now this old fart! "I didn't know I needed to inform you before coming back home, Michaelson!" I say in exasperation.
Michaelson glowers at me before scoffing and walking away. "You don't belong here, Van Beek. Go back to where you came from," He throws over his shoulder and disappears into his office. I scowl at the old bastard's statement and turn away, refusing to allow his words get to me. The fucker never liked me from the very beginning. For some unknown reason, I feel the old fart is hiding something. I don't know why I think so, but I just feel it. Call it an ex detective's hunch, if you may.
I take out my phone and hit call on Whit's number. "Hey, man. I'm…" "I need you to look into Michaelson O'Callaghan for me, Whit. He's the current sheriff," I tell Whit, cutting him off. "Fuck off, man. I'm literally standing in front of your fucking house!"
Oh, shit!