Let them anywhere near Eli again. They're just kids, too, Hawk. Kids who nearly killed your son, Hawk snaps. Kids who laughed while doing it. The silence stretches.
I hold my breath. I won't stop you, mom says finally. But I won't condone it either. I'm not asking for your approval, Hawk says. Just you're understanding.
Do what you have to do, Mom says. But leave Eli out of it. I close my door silently. My heart races. What is Hawk planning?
What consequences? Sleep eludes me the rest of the night. The next morning, mom acts normal, makes breakfast, helps me get ready for school, but there is a tension in her shoulders. Everything okay? I ask.
Fine, sweetie, she says too brightly, just tired. Patch drives me to school. He's quieter than usual, too. Something's happening, I say. With the club?
With the Finch boys. Patch's hands tighten on the handlebars. Nothing for you to worry about. Hawk's planning something. I press.
I heard him and mom arguing. Patch glances at me. You shouldn't eaves drop, kid. I live there, I point out. Hard not to hear, he sigh.
Look, sometimes men need to handle things their own way. Protect what's theirs by hurting people? By making sure they never hurt you again. I fall silent. Part of me understands, wants the Finch brothers to pay, but another part, violence makes us like them.
I say finally. Patch's eyebrows rise. What? If Hawk hurts the Finch boys, he's no better than they are, I explain. And that doesn't help anyone.
Patch stares at me for a long moment. Then he pulls out his phone, dials. Boss, he says, we need to talk about the thing tonight. My heart pounds as Patch speaks quietly into the phone. I can't hear what he's saying, but his eyes keep flicking.
Finally, he hang. Hawk wants to see you. He says, "After school. Am I in trouble? " Patch's expression soften. No kid, but you might have just changed his mind.
All day at school, I can't focus. What did Hawk plan? What will he say to me? When the final bell rings, I wheel out to find Hawk himself waiting. No patch today.
Students stare as I approach him. Hey kid, he says. Ready for a ride? He helps me into the side car. We drive, but not toward the clubhouse.
Instead, we head downtown to the courthouse. Why are we here? I ask we park. There's something you need to see, Hawk says. Inside, he leads me to a courtroom.
The Finch brothers sit at a table with their mother. No sign of their father who remains in jail awaiting trial. A judge enters. Everyone stands except me, of course. Juvenile case 47B.
The judge announces Cory and Dylan Finch charged with assault, battery, and hate crimes. My eyes widen. I glance at Hawk, who nods lightly. We file charges, he whispers. The legal way.
The proceedings continue. The brothers look smaller somehow, less threatening. Their mother cries quietly. How did you do this? I whispered to Hawk.