Chapter 60 Bringing In The Cavalry

Chapter 60 Bringing In The Cavalry
Damian's POV

The detention center doors closed behind us with a heavy metallic thud. For the first time in over an hour, I was outside. Fresh air filled my lungs. The late evening sun hung low over the horizon, bathing the sprawling government complex in warm amber light. It should have felt peaceful. Instead, everything felt wrong. The world kept moving. Cars rolled past the security gates.
Officers changed shifts. Birds drifted lazily across the cloudless sky. How? How could everything continue as though my entire world hadn't just been ripped apart?

I barely registered the walk across the parking lot. The only thing anchoring me to reality was Courtney's hand. I held onto it as though letting go would send me tumbling into an abyss I wasn't sure I'd ever climb out of. Peter Ramsey's words echoed relentlessly inside my head.
She was a brilliant actuary.
She noticed the abnormalities.
I begged her to leave it alone.
I was told to silence her.
When I came back... it was already over.

Every sentence felt like another crack splintering through decades of certainty.
For years, my father believed he understood the circumstances surrounding my mother's death. He'd chosen to shift blame to innocent Anna when he knew deep down that it concerned Ramsey and his dark dealings. He chose the simpler route. Terrible...
...but simpler.
Now nothing was simple anymore. After clearing my father's guilty conscience, there were other people involved now. A larger organization. An invisible network that had somehow remained hidden despite every investigation. And if Peter Ramsey was telling the truth...
Then my mother hadn't merely uncovered financial crimes. She had stumbled onto something powerful enough to erase anyone who got too close.

My grip tightened unconsciously around Courtney's hand. Immediately, her fingers squeezed mine back. Not painfully. Just enough to remind me she was there. I stopped walking. She took another step before realizing I hadn't followed. Turning toward me, she searched my face. For several seconds, neither of us spoke. I expected sympathy. Concern. Maybe even fear. Instead...
I found something entirely different. Her hazel eyes burned. Not with anger directed at me. With determination. Pure. Uncompromising. The fire in her gaze reminded me of a wildfire sweeping through dry forest. Relentless. Impossible to contain. For reasons I couldn't explain, seeing that look steadied me more than any comforting words could have.

She wasn't looking at me like I was broken. She was looking at me like I wasn't facing this battle alone. The realization settled somewhere deep inside my chest. She smiled. Small. Confident.
The kind of smile that always appeared right before she decided to charge headfirst into impossible situations.
"Let's go." She tugged gently on my hand.
I followed without question. Because honestly...
I'd follow her almost anywhere.

We reached the car, and I unlocked it remotely. Courtney climbed into the passenger seat while I slid behind the steering wheel. Before I'd even fastened my seatbelt, she'd already pulled her phone from her purse. She scrolled through her contacts with practiced speed. Then hit call. I rested my forehead against the steering wheel for a moment. The silence inside the car was strangely comforting.
Courtney's voice drifted beside me. "No..." A pause. "We've finished." Another pause. "Yes." Longer this time. "I know."
I lifted my head. She glanced toward me briefly before turning back toward the windshield.
"No, can't explain it over the phone." Another pause. "We'll be right there."
She ended the call.

For a second she simply held the phone in her lap. Then she looked over at me. I frowned.
"Who did you call?"
A knowing smile spread across her face. "Everyone."
I blinked. "...Everyone?"
"Of course." There wasn't the slightest hesitation in her voice. "This situation calls for the entire family."
Despite everything weighing on my mind, a quiet laugh escaped me. Only Courtney could organize what sounded suspiciously like a family emergency with the confidence of someone arranging Sunday dinner.
"We're meeting at your dad's place."

The laugh disappeared. Dad. Richard McKay. I leaned back against the seat. How exactly was I supposed to tell him?
Dad... everything we believed about Mom may be wrong.
Peter Ramsey claims she uncovered something much bigger.
He claims he tried to warn her.
He claims someone else ordered her death.
I closed my eyes. He'd buried her once already. Would tonight force him to bury her all over again?

Courtney reached across the center console and rested her hand on my arm.
"You don't have to carry this conversation alone."
I looked at her.
"I know."
She tilted her head knowingly.
"Do you?"
I sighed.
"You've been spending too much time with me."
"I learned from the best."
That earned another faint smile. "I don't know what to say to him."
"You don't have to know," she whispered.
"What if this destroys him?" I felt my chest squeeze involuntarily
"It won't." The certainty in her answer surprised me.
She continued before I could argue. "It'll hurt." Her voice softened. "It'll probably hurt all of us."
She squeezed my arm. "But your father deserves the truth."

Truth. Such a simple word. Yet it suddenly felt impossibly complicated. I started the engine. The vehicle rolled quietly out of the detention center parking lot. For several minutes neither of us spoke. Traffic was light. The city slowly came alive as people left work and headed home. I envied them. Ordinary evenings. Ordinary worries. Halfway through the drive, Courtney broke the silence.
"What are you thinking?"
I laughed quietly. "Do you want the short version or the terrifyingly long one?"
She smiled. "The long one."
I stared ahead at the road. "I'm thinking Peter Ramsey looked genuinely afraid."
She nodded. "I noticed."
"I'm thinking he never once tried to convince us he wasn't guilty."
"No."
"He accepted responsibility."
"But..."
"But he kept pointing somewhere else." She finished the sentence before I could.
I nodded slowly. "And I can't decide if that's because he's manipulating us..." I took a breath.
"...or because he's desperate," she said the words before I did.
"Exactly."

I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel. "If he's lying..."
"You'll find out."
"If he's telling the truth..." I took another deep breath.
"We'll find that out too."
She made it sound ridiculously straightforward. I almost pointed that out. Instead, I realized something. She believed me. Entirely. Not because she blindly trusted Peter Ramsey. Because she trusted me to find the truth. That faith settled over me like armor.
"You know something?" I said.
"What?"
"I don't deserve you."
She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, don't start."
"I'm serious."
"I know." She smiled mischievously. "You're very lucky."
I laughed harder than I had all day.
"There he is."
I glanced at her. "Who?"
"My Damian." She smiled warmly. "The one who laughs."

The words hit harder than she probably intended. I hadn't laughed much since my mother's death became the center of our investigation. Somewhere along the way...
I'd forgotten how. Until Courtney cemented herself into my life, carrying stubborn optimism and enough courage to rival entire armies.
She reached over and intertwined our fingers again. "I've got you."
Three simple words. Yet I believed them completely.

By the time we turned into my father's neighborhood, several familiar vehicles were already parked outside the house.
I recognized Marcus's truck immediately. Peter's sports car. Emily's motorcycle. Even Bella's classic Bentley sat neatly along the curb. The porch light glowed warmly against the fading evening sky. Inside the front windows I could already see silhouettes moving. People gathering. Waiting. Family. Not because we shared blood. Because we'd chosen one another. I parked the car but made no move to get out. My hands rested on the steering wheel. Suddenly they felt heavy. Courtney quietly unbuckled her seatbelt. Instead of opening the door, she turned toward me.
"This is the part where you overthink everything."
"I don't overthink."
She raised one eyebrow.
I sighed. "...Fine."
She smiled victoriously. Then her expression softened. "They're not waiting in there because they expect you to have all the answers."
"They're waiting because you're not supposed to face this alone."

I looked toward the house. Lights filled nearly every room. Voices drifted faintly through the open kitchen window. Dad was in there. My brothers. People who loved my mother every bit as fiercely as I did. People whose lives Peter Ramsey's confession had just altered forever. I took one deep breath. Then another. Finally, I opened my door. The cool evening air greeted us once more. Courtney slipped her hand into mine before we reached the front walk. She didn't ask. She simply held on. As we climbed the porch steps together, I realized something Peter Ramsey had unintentionally given me. Not answers. Not yet. But purpose. For years, I'd searched for the reason for my mother's death. Now I was searching for something far more dangerous.
The truth. And judging by the people waiting behind my father's front door...
I wasn't going to have to search for it alone.