It's Who You Know Ch. 06

Darren came in and I looked up, staring at him for a moment. How had this stupid partying kid scored a man like him? I felt like a whole new person. His eyebrow rose at my blank face.

"You all right?"

"Look at this," I said, bringing up the photo of me with Zack. I handed him my phone and watched the grin spread across his face.

"How old were you?"

"Nineteen. He was what, twenty-one?"

"So basically he was a chav, and you were a punk?"

"I believe the term was 'mosha' back then. But yeah. We looked kinda funny together."

"The hell was a 'mosha'?"

"Mosher. Like, a hardcore emo. They still used it as an insult though."

"What?"

"Yeah, exactly." I flicked a finger at the screen to show him the next one, then he continued, looking through everything. But he went the opposite way to me, starting at the youngest ones and ending at the most recent.

"This is hot," he said, pausing at one of the greyscale 'model' ones. I was pulling a generic pose, thumbs hooked in pockets, leaning against a wall, staring straight into the lens with a smirk. My shirt was barely buttoned up, my hair had a freshly shaven pattern on the side of my head. "How old were you here?"

"Like twenty-three?" The timeline felt muddled in my head. I cringed inside knowing what photos were coming up next. "Most of them are embarrassing."

"Nah. You even look sexy in your bad pictures."

"No."

"Yes. You'd make a good model."

"Not right now. I look like, forty."

He chuckled and stroked my scruffy beard. "No you don't." He was leaning in to kiss me when a woman cleared her throat at the door.

"Hey, cuties."

It was Amelia. Her even-toned voice seemed such a nice break from Nicole. I was actually really happy to see her. Apparently so was Darren, because he was flicking back through my phone to bring up the photo with Zack.

"Have you seen this?" he asked.

She clasped a hand over her mouth and giggled. "Oh, yes. Zack looked a lot like that when I first met him." She touched at Darren's wrist. "I, um. Your uncle's here."

He scowled. "What? Why?"

"He wants to see Tyler."

"Why?"

"It's nothing bad or I wouldn't have brought him in."

"I'll believe that when I see it."

She disappeared and came back with the grey-haired man, then left us in privacy. His icy stare made me nervous as he walked over. I wasn't feeling quite as invincible as that night at the networking. He was well groomed in his suit. I was a mess in hoodie and tracksuits.

"I hear you're a very loyal man," Vincent said, not taking his eyes off me once.

"Erm," I started.

"You did some remarkable things to protect Darren."

"Yeah."

"I also hear your actions may be stirring up some legal troubles." Now he looked at Darren. "I'll be helping out on his case. Any expenses you need, I'll cover. You will have the best lawyers in this country." He looked back to me. "You're a man who's not afraid to put down scum, and I won't see you behind bars for it."

I was stunned into silence.

"Thank you for being there when you were." He gripped Darren's shoulder, and I thought it was the most affection I'd ever see from him. "My nephew is alive and well because of you."

"I love him," I said. I still had to cross the line.

Vincent's brow creased. "Yes." He turned and headed for the door. "It's a shame the crash couldn't knock the pair of you straight, but God will be judge of that."

I bristled slightly as he left, but Darren placed a hand on my chest. His voice was quiet. "It's his way, Ty... He's lost a brother and two sons. He's been hurting for a long time." He looked into my eyes and his voice went even quieter. "You're accepted in the family."

Shit, was Darren about to cry? I think I was tearing up, too. I hugged him to hide my face. He let out a single sniff and rubbed at his eyes.

"Fucking hell." His voice was tight. "It's not over, Tyler. Nothing is."

*

I got to stay around Darren's for one night before the police took me in.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't terrified. I was on trial for a list of things, but above all, manslaughter.

I had to keep my cool. I had to stay focused.

My story must stay the same. It must be involuntary manslaughter. It must be.

Mitigating factors. That was what Jackson kept saying to me. We were going to get me out of this, because all I had done was accidentally kill a criminal who was trying to kill me. It was self defence. It was an accident. I might have some arrests on my record for assault before, but never a conviction. As far as the system was concerned, I was clean.

Those next few weeks of my life were a blur. I was out on bail, covered by Darren and Vincent, and my trial was scheduled for early October. Things were going fast. Incredibly fast. There were people in the background making wheels turn, trying to get me through this.

I was on a tense auto-pilot. I don't know how to describe what it's like, living your life on a ticking clock, knowing that in a matter of weeks you might get five or more years in jail. I went in to work because I didn't know what the fuck else to do. You just can't live like normal. You can't.

My family learnt the truth about why the crash had happened. It made me shake all over. How can you just casually talk about that with your loved ones? Yeah, I stabbed a man in the throat. I didn't mean to. I was just so pissed off because he'd already stabbed me.

*

So many questions.

I explained, in detail, every step of what had happened. What I could remember.

"So, as soon as you had hold of this knife, the first thing you did was swing at your assailant's throat?"

"It was an accident," I said. "I was in the middle of a fight, my arms were swinging anyways, I had the knife in my hand, and he was too close. I wasn't purposely aiming. I didn't mean to do it."

"After you had commited this act, you instantly fled from the scene. Why?"

"The other three men were still there, and one of them was pulling out a gun."

"One of these shots hit you in the back while you ran, yes?"

"Yes."

They had witnesses stand up to give their stories. One was a man who explained how he had been walking down the road at the time, and seen us get accosted.

"I was on the phone to the police already when the fight started."

"You were already calling the police?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"'Cause it was obviously something bad."

"How could you tell?"

"These four men circling these two, with the two in the middle looking obviously uncomfortable. I know what a mugging looks like."

"Would it interest you to know, that what you witnessed was supposedly not a mugging, but an attempted kidnapping?"

"A kidnapping? Why? Because the two men were in expensive clothes? Do thugs do that in real life? Do they try to kidnap people and ransom their families?"

"Questions we'd all like answered, sir."

They had Tracy there as a witness. Oh God. She started tearing up as she recounted the events.

"We heard shouting outside, and someone came running into the restaurant asking for help. I wanted to do something to stop it but I didn't know how... I was scared."

"The violence you saw scared you?"

"Yes."

"You saw what Tyler did?"

"Yes."

"And it scared you? Did it seem... out of character?"

"Yes. He always just seemed such a sweet man, I..." She stared across the room, straight at me. "I had no idea you had that in you."

"Neither did I," I replied. I received a quick glare for speaking.

She swallowed and continued. "The man had already stabbed him about three times before he got the knife off him."

"Three times?"

"Something like that. He... He was covered in blood. I thought he was going to die."

They even got Darren to stand up as a witness. I thought he was a participant more than anything, but apparently it worked. Somehow. Once again Darren had been involved in a fight and didn't see any arrest. He had punched the living shit out of that man...

His voice filled the room and I closed my eyes. Could he save me?

"I instigated the fight, because they told me not to answer my phone, and I still reached for it."

"Why were you so intent on answering your phone?"

"Because I knew it was Jackson calling."

"How?"

"Gut instinct." He stared with his cold eyes. "Everything Tyler did, he did to protect me."

"Witnesses say you shouted at him to stop."

"Yes."

"And he didn't?"

"If he had stopped, he would have died."

"Mister Sörensen, we would all like to know why these men were after you in the first place. What was going on, for Mister Andrews to find himself in this situation?"

"I would like to ask my family's private investigator to stand up and answer your question."

So Jackson stood up and explained the case. Pure silence descended into that room. Eyes stared at Darren. His face was completely still, he only glanced at the jury once. My trial was becoming a part of something much larger, going over people's heads.

"What these men weren't counting on," Jackson said, "is that when they tried to take Darren, they met their match. Someone who was willing to defend the man he loved to the bitter end. They needed to kill him and get him out of the way. He was fighting for his life."

"So Mister Sörensen and Mister Andrews have been romantically involved for a while?"

"Yes."

"How long?"

"I'm sorry, I don't see how that is relevant."

Jackson handled a court room with finesse.

My lawyer stood up to give a speech. You could somehow tell that he was a man hired by Darren's uncle. There was a subtle similarity in attitudes.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I want you to give a good long think about what happened that night. This was a man acting in self defence of not only himself, but a loved one. He accidentally killed a man, yes. He killed a criminal. A renowned hitman who had accepted a life of crime and was, at the time of his death, on the run from the police. I have his files on hand, if anyone would like to hear the long list of his disgusting offences."

"I don't think that's necessary."

"What Mister Andrews did was not an act of manslaughter. It was an act of clearing up our streets. He was faced with a situation beyond him, and he could have chosen to leave Mister Sörensen to his fate. He could have chosen to run. He did not. Ask yourself what you would have done."

I was shaking. I locked eyes with Zack across the room. He looked like he was hurting, unable to stand how helpless he was. He had shot a man dead. It had never caught up with him. My mistake was having witnesses.

"If police had arrived on time to the scene, there is a high chance they would have used lethal force to subdue the victim, and he might have killed officers in the process. Unfortunately, they did not have a timely arrival. Tyler did what he needed to do. As grey as this area may be, do not let his life be ruined for ultimately doing the right thing."

The judge asked me a simple question of his own.

"Mister Andrews, how do you feel about what you did?"

I stared at the floor for a moment, before looking up to meet his gaze. "I wish I'd never swung that knife."

"If you could go back in time, would you rather have died, than take a life yourself?"

"I don't know. I don't know if my instincts would have allowed me. All I know is that nothing is worth suffering the conscience of taking a life." It was the weight of a second life on me. Maybe actually the third or fourth. A lot of people had been affected by that car crash...

Maybe the men Zack and I had killed, had deserved it. But who am I to say that? How did I really feel about what I had done? Regret, maybe. But deep down I knew that if someone ever attacked me like that in the future, I'd do it again.

There are some people like me in this world. We lose ourselves in the moment.

Standing there and awaiting my sentence, I couldn't feel anything. I was emotionally exhausted. I was trying to prepare myself, bracing to hear how many months I would spend in prison. Everybody had done what they could, but manslaughter was what I had done.

The judge started to give some speech. It was very similar to what my lawyer had said. I could barely listen to it, I was just waiting for the 'but', the change in tone. I might be seen as a hero by some, but the law does not make allowances.

"Mister Andrews, we find you not guilty."

Not guilty.

Not guilty.

Manslaughter was what I had done, but I wasn't guilty of it?

How was this fucking happening.

I looked across the room. Amelia was crying. Zack was wide-eyed. My mother was doubled over with her head against her knees. My father was scowling like normal. My sister was holding her head, mouthing 'Oh my God' over and over. Jackson looked... smug. But genuinely happy. Darren was trembling and getting to his feet. Vincent also rose, and started to clap.

There was this applause. I couldn't feel my legs. I couldn't feel anything.

"Mister Jackson," the judge said. "I hope you receive plenty of police support in your continued efforts to protect the Sörensen family."

Fucking Jackson. He had done this. Who was this man? Really?

I just stood there for a moment, not knowing what to do next. I could leave? This was all over?

I was still going to be charged with some lesser things. The crash was not one of them, as they had some proof that in that very moment I had been doing nothing wrong, and the other car purposely hit us. But I had been speeding before that, so I was charged with reckless driving, had a fine, and another point on my license.

I was still being charged with aggravated assault. 12 months. I felt like I was going to faint as I listened to it. Shit. Shit. I wasn't free?

I was being put straight on probation.

Holy fucking shit.

I glanced across the room and Jackson winked at me.

The court was dismissed and I was walking out a relatively free man. So long as I obeyed all the conditions of my probation, the whole thing was going to blow over and fade into history.

The air felt cold as I stood out there. I stared at Jackson. What do you do when someone has just done something like this for you? How do you express it? I wasn't alone in life. I had powerful friends.

I hugged him. He wheezed with a puff of smoke, but chuckled and returned it, heavy slaps on my back.

"You're all good, Tyler."

There were lots of hugs. From Amelia, from Zack. From my family. Nicole squeezing my ribs like she wanted to kill me. Then finally Darren, who stood there waiting patiently. He held me for a long time before pulling back a little, forehead pressed against mine, eyes closed.

The moment was ruined by the fake shutter sound of a smartphone taking a picture. Fucking Nicole. She took another one as our heads snapped around.

"Nicole," Darren growled.

"It's not going online," she replied. "It's just for us, innit?"

He sighed. "You know what, just put it up. Whatever."

Oh wow.

Jackson came up and held both our shoulders. I hadn't realised how short he was compared to the pair of us, until he was standing there, so close, the top of his head only level with my cheek. He had always seemed one of those giant people who filled the room. I guess a person's presence can do a lot. He had a shell, and it smelt a lot like smoke, but it was down. He was talking to us genuinely, earnestly.

"Case is wide open, and the police are taking a heavy interest again." He regarded Darren. "I'm gonna be very busy for a while."

"Good luck, Jackson."

"Cheers. Get yourselves home and get some rest. First meeting with your probation officer is in a week, Tyler."

We got into Zack's car and I pulled my phone out, secretly curious to see Nicole's pictures.

Jesus Christ. It was a good photo. It was amazing. That was me, that was my Darren, and that was what we looked like together. Just casually looking super photogenic after coming out of a trial about manslaughter, as you do.

The second, slightly blurrier one was great in its own way, too - Darren's sexy grumpy face, my typical snarl. Darren peered over my shoulder, I showed him. He chuckled and rubbed his brow.

The new chapter of my life was up on my timeline. I was proud of this one.

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