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Riggs nods bitterly. “At any rate, Bruce yelled at her to leave, and she froze when she saw our mom on the floor. It infuriated Bruce that he didn’t scare her away, so he advanced on her. I stepped in the way and told him to have a go at me instead.”

Involuntarily, one of my hands moves to my heart, which is thudding hard at the suspense.

Riggs notices but doesn’t call me out. He continues his story. “I wasn’t as big as my stepdad, but I wasn’t small either at fifteen. It took some time for him to get the upper hand and I held my own for a while. But at some point, he got on top of me and had his hands around my throat. Janelle screamed at him to stop, and Bruce released his hold on me enough to lean over and backhand her.”

Tears prick at my eyes.

“Janelle pushed herself up, looked at me, and there was blood on her. And when I saw that, I went crazy. I was able to push him off, but he came right after me. I don’t even remember how it happened, but somehow I was at the kitchen drawer, so I pulled out a butcher knife. I spun and stuck it right into his stomach.”

“Good,” I snarl, hoping this story ends with the man dead. Harsh? Yes, but I’m livid listening to this story.

“I called 911. The police came. Mom and Bruce went to the hospital. I was arrested.”

I gasp. “But why?”

“Because he had a knife in his stomach,” Riggs says with a mirthless smile. “But mainly because they made some snap decisions right there. The next day, the district attorney talked to me, and after listening to the entire story, corroborated by my mother and Janelle, as well as the cuts and bruises I had to my face and head, they concluded I acted in self-defense.”

“Jesus, Riggs. That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard. What happened to Bruce?”

Disgust suffuses his expression. “He survived and was charged with assault. He ended up doing six months in jail for it, and when he got out, my mom took him right back.”

“You’re kidding?” I can’t even fathom such a thing. “It’s like a betrayal to you and Janelle.”

Riggs nods. “It was the beginning of the end of my relationship with her. Janelle was still too young to understand what was going on. My mom and I split final ties when she let Bruce convince her to send me away to live with an uncle in Minnesota.”

“Wow,” I reply, because this story has more twists and turns than I ever imagined.

“Ended up being the best thing for me. I played in a really good youth league over the border in Pittsburgh, but up in Minnesota, I got to go to a specialized high school that catered to hockey. It took my play to another level and got me a scholarship to Wisconsin, and that got me drafted.”

“Something good came out of it,” I say thoughtfully. “But what about Janelle?”

“That was the shitty part… leaving her behind, but I was only a kid too. At any rate, not long after I left for Minnesota, Bruce found Jesus, and he went several years without drinking, but he was very strict with Janelle. Then he fell off the wagon and started drinking again, but he never hit her after that, only my mom because he knew he could get away with it. He died when he ran his car into a tree. He was drunk, no seat belt on. Janelle was fifteen, and I was playing in San Diego by then.”

Riggs goes on to tell me how over the next few years after Bruce died, their mom had a revolving door of men—until she met Shep Mergeron. She married him two weeks after meeting him, and it wasn’t but a few days after that when he put the moves on Janelle.

Over the years that Janelle was with their mother and Riggs was playing professional hockey, he kept in very close contact. They talked every day, and she spent time in the summers with him. He went home as often as he could, not to see his mother but for Janelle. And thus, it was a no-brainer that Riggs took her away when Shep tried to touch her.

“I would have taken her as soon as I entered the league,” Riggs says in contemplation. “But there was no way my mom would’ve given her up without some type of provocation. When Shep did what he did, I finally had leverage.”

“What are you going to do about them?” I ask, suddenly remembering they’re still here.

“My mom I’m going to ignore. She’s been trying to get me to pay her more money, and that’s never going to happen. It’s why they came, I guess. I’m hoping they throw the book at Shep.”


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