Chapter 8 - ROOK GOT ONE CHANCE TO FAIL
Sixteen months after the assault, Tyler saw Rook outside a courthouse.
Bad luck.
Tyler was with two friends.
Rook was alone.
I was thirty feet away beside Celeste.
Tyler smirked.
Then said something I could not hear.
Rook stopped.
My stomach tightened.
Tyler stepped closer.
Rook’s hands remained down.
Tyler said louder:
“What, old man? You only scary when cameras aren’t around?”
There it was.
Bait.
An easier story.
Violent biker attacks wealthy defendant.
Exactly the version they would have loved.
Rook looked at him.
Then at me.
Then stepped aside.
“Walk away, kid.”
Tyler laughed.
Rook did.
That moment mattered more to me than every story I had ever heard about what he used to be.
Later, in the parking garage, I asked:
“Was that hard?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He laughed.
“You wanted me to say no?”
“No. I wanted the truth.”
He nodded.
May you like
“Your mother always did too.”
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