The words echoed in his mind, bouncing around and leaving trails in the haze that was the rest of the world.
Not Guilty
It was a strange feeling. Everything they attempted to charge him with, he’d absolutely done. Yet a jury of his peers decided he was not going to be punished for it. Whatever their reasoning, he was thankful, but it also left a weight in his gut that hadn’t gone away since they’d spoken the words.
Not Guilty
The shock still hadn’t worn off four hours into a flight from New York to Tennessee. He could still hear his mother’s gasp. See his father’s eyes well up. The cheers from his siblings. There was a very real possibility that he’d be locked up for the rest of his life, but twelve random strangers decided that wasn’t going to be his fate.
The criminal trial was over. There could be civil trials in his future, but it wouldn’t surprise him if the ‘insurance’ Walter had paid out stopped the families from filing any suits. Maybe after things calmed down, he could ask Ophelia.
Marcus rested his head against the window of the plane, watching the land below as they crossed the country and home came into view. The thick expanse of forest and mountains dominated the landscape as they descended. His jaw shifted left and right as the Appalachian Reserve complex came into view. A few large buildings nestled between a couple of mountains with endless trees behind.
He was home.
There were so many things he needed to do. His mother was no doubt throwing together a feast for the ages. Nick and Victoria were probably out riding her motorcycle while they waited for him. Calliope and James out on the front porch sharing a joint while they kept an eye out for him. But when he climbed into the taxi and tapped his phone to the reader, the driver asked where he was heading. Only one thing came to mind.
“Appalachian Reserve, please.”
It crossed his mind as his oxfords slipped on a rock and he tore the seams of his suit jacket under both arms while catching himself, that he probably should have changed at some point. If there were anyone out here, they’d probably think he’d gone nuts. He wasn’t out here looking for people, though.
Marcus pushed deeper into the forest, dense, ancient trees, singing birds, and the gentle babble of a nearby creek the theme to the soon to be reunion. Satisfied with how far he’d walked, he pushed into a thorny bush and kept absolutely silent even as it cut into his flesh. Wincing, he brought a hand up to wipe some blood from his cheek. It wouldn’t be long now.
Within minutes he could hear the barking and echoed howls of the pack. When the puff of pink smoke appeared a few feet from his hiding place and Kane emerged from it with a sliding stop, a wild grin formed across his lips. He still bore the scars from the spell carbines, patches of fur on his chest and hind quarters that hadn’t, and probably never would, grown back properly. The glimmerfang stuck his nose into the air, but Marcus didn’t give him time to narrow in on him.
As painful as it was, Marcus sprang from the bush, branches ripping through his suit and cutting into his skin as he wrapped his arms around the huge dog’s neck and shoulders and tried to drag him to the ground. Obviously, he did not overpower Kane. Instead, he hung on to him as best he could as the dog bounced with excitement and eventually threw him off onto the forest floor, where all quarter ton of animal landed on his chest. He was already being covered in slobber by the time the rest of the pack arrived.
Kane finally relented, lifting off him and barking as he ran over to the four other dogs. Marcus sat up, still laughing softly as air finally passed through his lungs again. Kane nuzzled against the pack matriarch, Blue, for a moment before bouncing behind her and emerging again with a ball of fur hanging from his jaws.
Marcus’ eyes widened, mouth agape, as the glimmerfang walked back to him and dropped a pup into his lap. “Kane, you dog! You’re a daddy?!”
Kane barked at him and then ran back to grab another, two more following from behind as the rest of the pack circled him. Blue laid down beside him, pawing at one of the pups that tried to climb onto her head. He smiled down at her, and scratched behind her ears as four glimmerfang pups, a mixture of black and dark blue fur, all with bright purple eyes, whined and clawed and climbed up his chest, ready to play.
It must have been hours that he spent out in the middle of the woods behind the reserve, playing with the puppies and basking in the first real peace he’d had in what felt like an eternity. By the time the cab dropped him off outside his parents’ house, the sun had dropped beneath the westward mountains, and the porch light silhouetted his sister, the cherry at the end of whatever she was smoking giving soft light to her cheeks.
“Look who decided to show up for his own celebration.” She pulled the joint from her mouth and rested her hands on her hips before turning her head to call into the open bay window. “Marcus is home!”
The door burst open moments later, and Nick launched himself off the top step of the deck and into his arms. Marcus squeezed his little brother, spinning to redirect the force he’d hit him with. He sat Nick down and looked up to find his mother had already descended the deck stairs and was standing in front of him.
“Look at the state of you. Did you ride inside the engine of the plane?” Cassandra reached out and fluttered her fingers through his tattered sleeves. “We’ve gotta get you cleaned up.”
“Sorry, Mama,” Marcus said, wrapping her up in a hug as well.
“He probably stopped at the reserve just like she said he would.” Nick said from behind him.
Marcus furrowed his brow and glanced back. “Huh?”
“Victoria, she said you’d probably go to the reserve to check on Kane before you showed up.” Nick clarified.
“Victoria’s here?” Marcus tucked his mother under one arm and glanced back toward the deck where his father had joined Calliope, James, and his twin sisters.
“She left after the boys did,” James answered. “Said she’d see you at work tomorrow.”
Marcus let out a breathy chuckle and shook his head. Of course she did. The smell of spaghetti bolognese wafted from the open front door, tempting him inside. He glanced down at his mother, apron covered in powdered sugar. No doubt signifying that after dinner there would be no shortage of sweets for him to gorge himself with.
And yet…
He opened his mouth slightly, brows furrowing as he glanced at the grass beneath his ruined shoes, then back up at his mom. “I…”
“What, honey?” She smiled up at him.
“I think I need to go…” he whispered, just loud enough for her and maybe Nick to hear, who had sidled up beside them.
“Go where?” She asked.
Marcus didn’t answer. “Dad, can I…” The truck keys were already arcing in his direction before he finished the question. Snatching them out of the air, he dipped down and kissed his mother on the top of her head. “I’ll be back tomorrow, I promise. Save me a plate.” He called as he took a few cautious steps backward. He met his father’s eyes for a split second, who gave him a brief nod and grin, before he turned and ran for the truck.
The little yellow house off the highway came into view about twenty minutes later. The porch light was off, though the moon illuminated it well enough for him to make out the steps and the little swing beside the door. He parked the truck against the curb and stared at the door for a long time.
Every time he tried to think of what to say, his stomach bubbled, threatening to eject whatever was left of its contents. He just needed to do it. Just walk up the steps and say…something. He swallowed hard at the thought before forcing himself out of the truck.
Each step up the driveway and then the stairs, his pulse quickened. They’d not exactly left on the best of terms. She was still pissed at him. What if she just sent him away? Maybe she wasn’t at his parents’ because she didn’t want to see him. Why would she say she’d see him at work then?
His mind continued to race as his body ran without thought, knuckles rapping at the door. Shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, his breaths came out in escalating bursts the longer the wait lasted. She was asleep. He should just go back. Eat some food. Talk to her tomorrow.
He stared down at his feet, willing them to move. To turn around and go back to the truck. They remained steadfast on the half-circle welcome mat shaped like the sun. Then the click of an unlocking door echoed in his mind, and chills covered his body.
As the door slowly opened, the scent of sandalwood replaced the longing for the meal and his brain filled in the cigarettes when it registered the smell was missing. His eyes fell on her sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, undercut jutting out in all directions as she squinted up at him wordlessly through sleepy eyes.
His body forced his mouth open, urging him to say words. Any words. Whatever popped into his empty little brain.
“You’re not second fiddle to anyone.”