The beginning of the end, at last. Goodness doesn't always triumph over evil...at least at first. And Colt has to face the consequences of his naivete and and a reality, or a version of the real world he tries to keep at bay--and away from the people he loves most.

And so...we have arrived at that slippery slope...

 I have to be cut to the quick to burst into tears—I mean I cry, but I don’t, like, bawl.

But I damned near did this time. I had to walk out of the room and just stand there in the fucking hallway to get my mind right.

It was one of those ginormous state government buildings over on Congress--the courts and whatnot are there, too. If some terrorist dropped a bomb in the middle of one of the big plazas there, they could cripple the whole county—the whole state, actually.

That’s why going into those buildings is like going through airport security now. You have to empty your pockets into little baskets, walk through the metal detector and slide your briefcases and whatnot on that conveyor thing while all these big, mean looking cops stand by, ready to take out that bad guy if the worst actually ever does happen.

But the bureaucrats rushing up and down that hallway were so wrapped up in red tape that they didn’t even notice this stupid kid standing there snuffling like 5-year-old who’d just gotten an ass whuppin’ in public. Which I sort of had, actually—that’s for sure how it felt. Like God had just reached down and slapped me upside the head.

After I’d been out there for a few minutes, LeeAnn came out, put her hand on my back and just stood there rubbing me, bless her. She knew better than to give me one of those phony speeches some people blurt out when they don’t know what else to say.

She’d told me to come alone, and to say nothing to anyone until we’d worked “this thing” out. So when she hit me with the news, I had no crew to cling to.

And when I finally managed to hiccup out a feeble little, “This is so fucked up,” she said, “It’s beyond fucked up. So we need to siddown and figure out what the hell to do about it, okay? C’mon. Let’s do this.”

After I’d sort of calmed down, she led me back into the little conference room, Chase Hardin, the youngest—and best--lawyer in the local firm we use was standing there looking sort of nervous.

I totally understood why. We’re their best clients. Their most important clients. You don’t get our kind of business in Tucson. So he wanted me happy. And I was definitely not happy.

I slumped into the big fake leather chair he’d hauled in from some other office he’d stolen it from while no one was looking because he’d anticipated my reaction, I guess. That’s what I liked about him. He didn’t think like a young guy. He thought like a smart guy, a guy who liked to win.

It was in his DNA, that need to win. His dad had been some big deal coach at the U of A that people always mentioned whenever he introduced himself. Legend material, his father.

But Chase was no “jock.” He was a friggin’ shark--Johnette’s Harvard boy was never going to be as sharp as him. Great White. Out for blood.

And boy, he needed to be. Because I was definitely in over my head.

So he’d taken off his jacket and sort of half rolled up his sleeves like he was getting down to some serious business. And he was reading me with those steel grey eyes, too. He’s like a really good con artist or poker player, Chase. If your sweat falls a certain way, he knows what that means. And how to fuck you up with it.

“You’re gonna make it through this, brah,” he told me. And he sat in the chair in next to mine, but turned it to face me.

The “brah” thing is from this little hiatus he took to climb big ass mountains all over the world. No kidding, he got sick of school and ran off and lived like a damned mountain man for one year. One, only. A last “hurrah” before hitting the books hella hard.

Did a lot of climbing, surfing, crazy daredevil shit to test himself physically and mentally. Then, he came back and applied all that to getting his law degree and passing the Bar. That another reason I trust him--he’s like a ninja, this guy. They think he’s just some hot shot kid when he walks into the court room. But he’s climbing a mountain in his mind—everything he sees and hears tells him what move to make next.

But he always talks to me like we’re a coupla surfers kickin’ it on the beach, watching for a good wave or some cute girls to walk by. I don’t think our other lawyers like that, but I do. It keeps me from getting all bunched up inside, when he talks to me like a friend instead of a legal eagle.

So I said, “You sure?”

And he nodded and grabbed a bottle of water he’d opened a while ago. Took a quick swig, and said, “There’s no actual case, dude. Lotta circumstantial bullshit. And wishful thinking.”

I knew he wouldn’t say it if he didn’t know that for a fact. He’ll give you the bad news without batting an eye, that guy. Doesn’t believe in sugar coating things. It’s his way of preparing you to be damned near drawn and quartered on the witness stand or by the judge or even the press—you’re partners, is how he sees it. And if you can answer him back without batting an eye, even if you’re behind the eight ball, he knows you’re ready for battle.

So I relaxed a little bit.

And he folded his arms over his chest and said, “It’s a lotta politics and petty, ego shit. But they’re not livin’ in today’s world. The old boy network’s literally dying off. And the ones left, like your judge pal, they’re so insulted by all the foreigners and outsiders taking over that they can’t bring themselves to rethink the way they do things. It’s all tied up in immigration and all that, to them. America’s not America anymore—you know what I mean. You got Kanye West trying to rent the palace of Versailles for his wedding to a white girl, right? I mean, what?”

That made me laugh. Which was, of course, what he wanted.

So he added, “And we got Ruskies and Chinks and even the damned Beaners buying up everything they can get their hands on. And now there’s this little hillbilly boy with more money than God callin’ the shots right here under their damned noses—what’s that about?”

Don’t be shocked. The kind of guys he’s talking about, that’s how they talk. His father’s generation, that’s how they sound. And you have to get into the enemy’s head to beat that enemy. Only their heads aren’t all that hard to get into. They’re sort of stupid, a lot of them. I mean, on purpose, too. They’re those guys who think going to college is “elitist.” Wait—they wouldn’t use that word. They’d just call them snobs.

And I knew how that kind of thinking had messed up my life recently, for sure.

I said, “Yeah, that’s what the judge sort of said. I mean, he called me Eminem a lot.”

LeeAnn busted up behind that—she was there. She knew what a dick he’d been to me. And she was always afraid that the powerful people she had to steer her clients past weren’t getting a fair deal, because of how they felt about “the younger generation.” Or the modern world in general, actually.

Yes, some of ‘em deserved to be disciplined. But a lot of them were caught in a game they couldn’t win because they were brown or black or red or yellow or poor or whatever.

“Oh, they’re totally bamboozled,” Chase said. “And they’re scared, too. But the smart ones are staying neutral so they don’t come down on the wrong side when things finally settle down. And they’re also more likely to side with the New School, push comes to shove. Because at the very least, you’re gonna out live ‘em, right? That’s a big point in your favor right there. When they all die, you’re the man. You’re the man now, for that reason. They’re not gonna fuck with the heir apparent. JJ knew it. He was counting on it. He hated that mentality. You’re supposed to be the exception to it—the antidote. Which…isn’t exactly fun for you right now, but…”

“They’re sure as hell tryin’a break him,” LeeAnn said. “Jumped all over me today, wantin’ me to go over there’n’ bring you out in handcuffs—that was the big thing, the handcuff business.”

“Photo op,” Chase said. “People see that, they figure you’ve got to be guilty of something.”

“But I’m not arrested, right?” I asked. I honestly wasn’t sure. Of anything.

She said, “The prosecutor’s gonna take some heat, but Chase got all up in his grill, man. You’re a fuckin’ pit bull, dude.”

Chase laughed. But I ran my hands through my hair and just fell back against the chair.

“I don’t…I still don’t understand it,” I said. “I mean, what the fuck?”

“Yeah, well, you don’t live in the real world, son,” Chase said. “You do whatever you think is best’n’ if it means bending the law a little bit, ni modo, right?”

“But I didn’t.”

Chase laughed—LeeAnn did, too, a little.

“Let’s…count the ways, okay? Humor me,” he said.

That made me smile. So he sat back and made a little tick mark in the air with his finger, and said, “First strike: restraining order violation.”

“But it was supposed to be okay for me to talk to her, though. Or be around her.”

“Technically, yes. But then what was it for? If you’re gonna ignore it whenever you feel like it, it doesn’t look like you were all that serious about it.”

I sighed and said, “Okay. Yeah. I get that.”

LeeAnn sat down behind him, but on the side of the long table, watching us both. He glanced back, smiled, and then returned to me. They were a good team, I thought. Liked each other.

So he went, “Strike two: you gave that slime ball money to help her out of an illegal deal. And you knew it was an illegal deal. So by association, you’re in it with her and the slime ball. And you’re on probation. With lots and lots of conditions. One of which is not to associate with slime balls—that’s another strike, right? You follow me?”

I sighed and shrugged.

“Yeah, I follow you. But—“

“See, there’s no ‘buts’ in this game, except the one gettin’ kicked,” he said, really looking me in the eyes this time. “And that’s yours, brah. You can’t pick and choose which conditions to obey. Judge Haskins told you if you sneezed the wrong way, he was comin’ for you.”

“But the kids shouldn’t be part of it,” I said. And I almost started crying again when I thought about that.

I forgot to explain that part: they were trying to end my visitation rights. Maybe even go after Bonnie, too, for knowing about all this shit and not keeping me in check. Or…something like that. That’s what started me crying. I couldn’t care less about going to Juvie for a while, really, but not being able to even see my kids…that couldn’t happen. Just couldn’t happen.

Except Chase was ready to show me how it could.

He said, “Okay. Follow this, now. We got this 18-year-old dude got arrested on a weapons charge, and now he’s paying off drug debts for this little crack ho with the help of a very crooked cop. And the crack ho involved in this transaction ODs on the dope he paid for. Do you want a kid like that to have a coupla cute little toddlers runnin’ around the house?”

“Aw, c’mon! I don’t deal or anything. I was just tryin’a keep her from getting killed maybe.”

“She did get killed. She shot up the shit you paid for. And on the tape, they hear you tell ‘er to go get straight if she needs to.”

I closed my eyes and said, “Shit…”

“That’s ambiguous, though,” LeeAnn cut in. “Coulda meant to go get it from her connection or something. Doesn’t mean you knew she had some.”

“Oh, please,” Chase said.

“Well, they bought it when I said it,” LeeAnn said. “Cause it’s possible. I mean, it can be interpreted a lotta ways. We know he wasn’t around her all the time.”

“What if he gave her money when he said it?”

“He didn’t.”

“You’re sure?”

“It’s not on the tape. He’s, like…not even near her when he says it. Not really.”

“Tape cuts in and out—nobody’s sure of anything, based on that.”

“Which is why they gotta gimme the benefit o’ the doubt,” I told him.

And he sighed and said, “Look, Colt, all they know over at Child Protective Services is that the whole world is watching them right now. They had a kid starve to death after his parents locked him in a fuckin’ toy chest in the back yard and just left him there—nobody knows why. They just decided they couldn’t cope with another kid, I guess, and the case worker never asked why she hadn’t seen him when she came by. If she came by--three hundred cases that we know of got lost in the system last year. I kid you not.”

“Three hundred?” I said. That almost shocked me into forgetting my own troubles.

“Yes,” he said. “They accepted the cases, and then lost the paperwork or…some damned thing. And all that went right on the front page! Lead story on the national news, not just local. That is why they wanna be so tough on you. If they’re tough on someone like you, then it’ll look like they mean business, finally.”

“They’re even firing really good case workers,” LeeAnn said. “For little things. Cause they’re so scared someone’ll find out about that and get them on TV again—me, they’re watching, too. All of us are under the microscope right now.”

“You picked the worst time to do the right thing for the wrong person,” Chase told me. “Again.”

He was talking about the gun. Which I got her because Yuri was smacking her around. And because I knew she was out there copping for both of them in neighborhoods that were scary rough.

She wasn’t ready to quit. So I was trying to keep her alive a little longer. And you see where that got me. Chase was totally right.

We sat there real quiet for a moment. Me, trying to make my mind work right. And I finally asked the only thing I really wanted to ask.

“I can have ‘em for Christmas, right? The kids? Up at Tuffs?”

Chase smiled at me like a loving brother. He was a shark, but he could feel me.

“Over the river and through the woods, huh?”

“Yeah. We’ve been doin’ it for years. Before they were even born. But I really wanna see their eyes when they look at all that snow for the first time. We’ve made snow at the Christmas service a few times for the kids to run around in out back o’ the church, but…”

“You kill me, man,” Chase said. “You make everybody happy’n’ it backfires all over your crazy ass.”

“But also, somebody left me billions of dollars,” I told him.

“And that’s why I was able to show them that they’d be in a world o’ hurt if they took away your visitation rights and then the court didn’t find anything. Which they didn’t. You could make an international stink. They can’t even begin to imagine how bad it could get, if you went after them. Who might show up here, even—the people you know, who would focus attention on this thing.”

“They could just dig in their heels, though,” I said. “Get even harder on me.”

“Oh sure,” LeeAnn said. “Technically, I could arrest you just for being in the same place with her and the dope and the guy who set up that buy. And believe me, the judge and his friends would spin it to look like you were the fuckin’ drug dealer. Which is sort of how Friendly told it.”

“He’s the main source, right?” I asked.

And Chase said, “Ya think?” real sarcastic.

And then he snorted and shook his head and said, “Last desperate move, givin’ you up to Master Haskins—he’s pissed at you for not jumping right on that job thing. I mean, Yuri’s all squared away, but he’s still twisting in the wind, in his mind.”

“Incredible. I mean, he knows what I’ve just been through. He was part of it. He was there.”

 “Listen, all that slime ball knows is he’s persona non grata in this town. He’s hiding out somewhere in Mexico, even. We think. Cause I mean his fate was sealed when Haskins freed the slaves to save his own ass. He can’t have people like Friendly scuttlin’ around him if he wants to move up in the world. So you were his last chance. And you didn’t come through. That’s how he feels, anyway. He’s on Friendly time, man. A day to you is a year to him.”

“And he actually told them I was part of the drug thing?”

“He’s no fool, kiddo. He would never declare something like that out right. He said he wouldn’t doubt it—he had a ‘feeling,’ right? Because you would do that for her, if she’d asked you to. You’d do it if I asked you to, and we’ve never fucked once.”

We all laughed after that one.

And then LeeAnn said, “He’s right, though. Kindness is your weakness. You wanna help everybody so much you don’t think about what you’re doing half the time. But you should. You’d better.”

Chase shook his head again and chuckled.

And said, “One more thing I gotta ask, before we wrap this up.”

I braced myself. And said, “What’s that?”

And he grinned and said, “You wanna toss one o’ those bomb ass watches my way? I mean, it’s Christmas, right? Always wanted to have me a P.Diddy watch. Flash it at the jury all casual…”

LeeAnn and I both cracked up again. And then I looked past him, because there was this big ass cop almost filling up the whole doorway. With little Wyatt sort of leaning over to get a glimpse of me from behind him.

LeeAnn frowned and said, “Wyatt?”

And I don’t know why it was funny to me, the whole situation, but I just started laughing. I probably should’ve been trying to figure out how I was going to explain her and…everything else. But first, I just got up and grabbed hold of her as always.

She was my new binky, that woman. When I held her, the world straightened up and I was good to go.

But when I looked into her eyes this time, I could see she was scared for me. Which was a good thing, because it sent me right into my “big boy” act. I grew a spine and some balls, looking into those frightened eyes.

And she smiled, watching me go all Optimus Prime on her like that.

I don’t know if she bought it, but her eyes twinkled like she’d enjoyed the show.