Behind the Tears (Behind the Lives) Read Free Page A

“I’m truly sorry for what I did to my family. I’ve regretted it every day since that night. Not cos I was imprisoned, but cos I hurt the people I love.”
    Dante cursed under his breath, willing himself to stay seated. His stepfather didn’t love his family otherwise he wouldn’t have torn them apart.
    The door behind Dante opened and closed, but he kept his eyes fixed on Chaz, wishing he could bash down the barrier and attack the sick bastard. He’d yank him out of the box and kick him on the floor, not stopping until ribs popped and cracked, then he’d take a knife and stab him like Chaz had done to his mother. No, he wouldn’t just stab him, he’d gut him, making it as painful as possible, and drawing it out so his stepfather could understand a fraction of the pain he’d caused his family.
    As though he could read Dante’s mind, Chaz’s expression tensed. “I never meant to harm anyone, and especially not you, Ash.”
    “I’m not Ash, you sick fuck!” Dante snapped, unable to hold back at the mention of his brother.
    The judge leaned into the microphone. “Sir, please do not reply to any comments unless the parole board asks you.”
    Dante got to his feet. “Then lemme say my piece now so I can leave,” because he couldn’t stomach looking at Chaz a second longer. He thought he could handle it, but now understood why Ash had backed out.
    “This is not how things are carried out in a parole hearing.”
    “I only need a few minutes, or don’t victims have a voice?”
    “You’re allowed to speak, just at the appropriate time.”
    “I’m sorry, but I can’t just sit here while he tells you lies.”
    The woman’s face softened, but her tone remained clipped, like a school teacher speaking to a naughty child who wouldn’t listen. “I understand your predicament, sir, but—”
    “Then don’t give him parole. Ten years is nuthin’ compared to what my family got. My mother is dead cos of him, that’s a lifetime for us.”
    “The rules—”
    “I don’t give a shit ’bout your rules!” Dante shouted, instantly regretting his outburst.
    The woman got to her feet. “Mr. Rata, please leave of your own accord or you will be escorted out,” she said, indicating to the policemen.
    When Dante didn’t make a move, the cops headed for him. He glared at them, furious they were touching their batons. He knew what they were thinking, that he was a gang-member, the Māori tattoo around his left eye most likely leading to their assumption. He wasn’t a victim in their eyes, but a perp just waiting to be arrested and put on the other side of the barrier in Chaz’s place.
    Dante pointed at Chaz. “That bastard raped my brother, yet you’re looking at me like I’m the criminal?”
    “What?” someone gasped from the back of the courtroom.
    Dante’s head shot around, shocked to see his younger brother sitting by the door. He’d told Sledge not to come, because Ash hadn’t wanted him knowing about the rape. When the attack had happened, exactly ten years ago, Sledge had been staying with their grandparents. And since he’d been only eight at the time, all he’d been told was that their stepfather had killed their mother, the whys and wherefores too hard to explain to a child.
    Sledge got to his feet, his tall frame dressed in brown leathers. “Chaz raped Ash?”
    Dante headed for Sledge, dread and his hangover bringing him close to throwing up. “Yes.”
    Looking both stunned and horrified, Sledge’s gaze shifted to Chaz. “Now it makes sense. The way Ash acts, why he’s so violent. You did that to him,” he said to Chaz.
    Chaz screwed up his face. “I didn’t mean to—”
    Dante spun around, furious at Chaz’s excuse. “Bullshit! You drugged him. He wuz so sick he had to be hospitalised.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the parole board being shuffled out of the room, while the prison guard opened the door behind Chaz.
    “I didn’t know the roofie would do that,”