For You
Page 33
Colt had evidently decided to ignore what he said to Susie which I thought was a good play and I let him have it.
“Yeah,” I told him.
“They’re gonna jump to conclusions.”
“They always do.”
“I need to know you aren’t gonna lose it.”
“Lose it?”
“Lose it.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Go off half-cocked.”
I stared at him then I repeated, “What do you mean?”
“You’re not exactly known for havin’ a level head, Feb. You got a lotta stress. Shit’s gone down before and it didn’t involve murdering psychos and bitches like Susie and you disappeared for fifteen years. Can’t keep you safe if you haul ass.”
Now I was losing my temper and that mental note I made not to get into verbal fisticuffs with Colt got lost somewhere in the flutterings of my brain.
“How did this get to be about me?”
He ignored my question. “I need your assurance you’re gonna be able to ride this out.”
“I can’t believe this shit.”
“Just promise me, it gets too much, you’ll talk to Morrie, your Mom, Jessie, Mimi, whoever the f**k and you don’t just take off.”
It was then I lost it. Covering the distance between us in three pissed off steps, I got right in his face and when I spoke I did it loud.
“Colt, I was twenty-five and had just been beaten to shit and humiliated by my husband when I took off. Half the town feelin’ sorry for me, the other half thinkin’ I’m an idiot. I couldn’t hold up my head. You have no clue how that feels but, let me tell you, it feels shit. You hear me?” I shouted. “I had nothin’ to keep me tied here and so I left. Now I got ties. I got this bar. I got my respect for my brother. I promised him I’d pull my weight as a partner and that’s what I’m gonna do and I don’t f**kin’ appreciate you insinuating I’d do anything different.”
His voice got low and conciliatory when he spoke again but he didn’t back down or move out of the space I’d taken. “I appreciate that, Feb, but you gotta appreciate that I know you aren’t exactly known for sharin’ and they don’t make a break in this case soon this shit is only gonna get worse before it gets better.”
“I’m not an idiot, Colt, I realize that.”
“Then you can’t think you’re gonna go it alone. You try, you’re gonna collapse under the weight of it or you’re gonna feel that pressure and disappear.”
“You don’t know me well enough to say that.”
His voice lost its conciliatory tone when he said, “You know I do.”
“I’m not who I was, Colt.”
“Fucking hell, Feb, I know that too, been livin’ that nightmare for a long f**king time.”
“Poor you,” I spat, so lost in my anger I didn’t even begin to think what I was saying or if I should be saying it, “try livin’ my nightmare, you ass**le.”
It was his turn to get in my face. “You’d share it with me, I’d take that shot.”
“Why are you doing that?” I shouted. “I don’t need to share what you damn well know.”
“That’s your constant refrain, Feb, is it sinkin’ in yet that maybe I’m not lyin’ and I have no f**kin’ clue?”
“Not even for a second!”
“Christ,” he bit off but I was done and I took a step back.
“This is so over, why we’re still talkin’ about it is beyond me.”
“Maybe because it means something?”
“To who?”
“Fucking hell,” now Colt was yelling, “you think two people don’t give a shit about something would be shouting about it?”
I had no answer to that mainly because I had no intention of even thinking about that.
He read me and closed the distance I’d gained, getting back in my face. “There’s a lot of people we both care about tied in this shit and now it’s in their face. Again. We need to talk it out so we can finally shut it down and move, the f**k, on.”
“I’ve moved on, Colt.”
“Bullshit, Feb, you’re stuck, same as me.”
I turned away from him toward the door but he caught my arm and whirled me right back.
“We’re not done.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I snapped and then told him what he already knew, “we are. We have been for twenty-two years.”
I caught his flinch before I yanked my arm from his hand and walked right out the door. It was embarrassing knowing that everyone heard. Some of them pretending they didn’t; others not bothering. But taking a page out of Susie’s book, I kept my head held high and lifted my hand to slide it under my hair, pulling it off my neck and shoulders to let it fall down my back.
I went right behind the bar and asked, “You need another, Joe-Bob?”
“Always need another, Feb,” Joe-Bob answered quietly and I knew his eyes were gentle on me but I didn’t meet them when I got him his beer.
I spent a lot of time with Joe-Bob. He was mostly a silent drinker, looked older probably than his years; wife had left him, kids long gone. He didn’t talk much when he got loused, he’d sometimes get in the mood to share but it was rare so I didn’t know him all that well. Still, he was a fixture in my life and had been awhile and seeing his eyes gentle on me I knew would undo me.
Colt wasn’t through with me, I should have known he wouldn’t be by the way he treated Susie.
As he walked down the bar toward the door, he said loud enough for everyone to hear, “See you at home, Feb.”
Two could play that game.
“I’ll be late,” I called to his back, “pull the covers back for me, baby.”
He stopped with the door open in his hand, his eyes sliced to me and it was a wonder I didn’t cower under his dark look but he didn’t hesitate before he openly gutted me. “Honey, you know I’d do anything for you.”
The door closed him from sight and the bar was silent for a good four beats before the murmur of conversation jumpstarted my muscles.
Morrie slid close to me. “Feel like talkin’ about Colt yet?”
“Fuck off, Morrie,” I snapped.
“Didn’t think so,” Morrie muttered but there was laughter in his voice and I just caught him exchanging a smile with Joe-Bob before they wiped their faces clean and I got down to the business under more than a dozen curious eyes of wiping the bar top, every f**king inch so spotless it was sparkling.
“Yeah,” I told him.
“They’re gonna jump to conclusions.”
“They always do.”
“I need to know you aren’t gonna lose it.”
“Lose it?”
“Lose it.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Go off half-cocked.”
I stared at him then I repeated, “What do you mean?”
“You’re not exactly known for havin’ a level head, Feb. You got a lotta stress. Shit’s gone down before and it didn’t involve murdering psychos and bitches like Susie and you disappeared for fifteen years. Can’t keep you safe if you haul ass.”
Now I was losing my temper and that mental note I made not to get into verbal fisticuffs with Colt got lost somewhere in the flutterings of my brain.
“How did this get to be about me?”
He ignored my question. “I need your assurance you’re gonna be able to ride this out.”
“I can’t believe this shit.”
“Just promise me, it gets too much, you’ll talk to Morrie, your Mom, Jessie, Mimi, whoever the f**k and you don’t just take off.”
It was then I lost it. Covering the distance between us in three pissed off steps, I got right in his face and when I spoke I did it loud.
“Colt, I was twenty-five and had just been beaten to shit and humiliated by my husband when I took off. Half the town feelin’ sorry for me, the other half thinkin’ I’m an idiot. I couldn’t hold up my head. You have no clue how that feels but, let me tell you, it feels shit. You hear me?” I shouted. “I had nothin’ to keep me tied here and so I left. Now I got ties. I got this bar. I got my respect for my brother. I promised him I’d pull my weight as a partner and that’s what I’m gonna do and I don’t f**kin’ appreciate you insinuating I’d do anything different.”
His voice got low and conciliatory when he spoke again but he didn’t back down or move out of the space I’d taken. “I appreciate that, Feb, but you gotta appreciate that I know you aren’t exactly known for sharin’ and they don’t make a break in this case soon this shit is only gonna get worse before it gets better.”
“I’m not an idiot, Colt, I realize that.”
“Then you can’t think you’re gonna go it alone. You try, you’re gonna collapse under the weight of it or you’re gonna feel that pressure and disappear.”
“You don’t know me well enough to say that.”
His voice lost its conciliatory tone when he said, “You know I do.”
“I’m not who I was, Colt.”
“Fucking hell, Feb, I know that too, been livin’ that nightmare for a long f**king time.”
“Poor you,” I spat, so lost in my anger I didn’t even begin to think what I was saying or if I should be saying it, “try livin’ my nightmare, you ass**le.”
It was his turn to get in my face. “You’d share it with me, I’d take that shot.”
“Why are you doing that?” I shouted. “I don’t need to share what you damn well know.”
“That’s your constant refrain, Feb, is it sinkin’ in yet that maybe I’m not lyin’ and I have no f**kin’ clue?”
“Not even for a second!”
“Christ,” he bit off but I was done and I took a step back.
“This is so over, why we’re still talkin’ about it is beyond me.”
“Maybe because it means something?”
“To who?”
“Fucking hell,” now Colt was yelling, “you think two people don’t give a shit about something would be shouting about it?”
I had no answer to that mainly because I had no intention of even thinking about that.
He read me and closed the distance I’d gained, getting back in my face. “There’s a lot of people we both care about tied in this shit and now it’s in their face. Again. We need to talk it out so we can finally shut it down and move, the f**k, on.”
“I’ve moved on, Colt.”
“Bullshit, Feb, you’re stuck, same as me.”
I turned away from him toward the door but he caught my arm and whirled me right back.
“We’re not done.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I snapped and then told him what he already knew, “we are. We have been for twenty-two years.”
I caught his flinch before I yanked my arm from his hand and walked right out the door. It was embarrassing knowing that everyone heard. Some of them pretending they didn’t; others not bothering. But taking a page out of Susie’s book, I kept my head held high and lifted my hand to slide it under my hair, pulling it off my neck and shoulders to let it fall down my back.
I went right behind the bar and asked, “You need another, Joe-Bob?”
“Always need another, Feb,” Joe-Bob answered quietly and I knew his eyes were gentle on me but I didn’t meet them when I got him his beer.
I spent a lot of time with Joe-Bob. He was mostly a silent drinker, looked older probably than his years; wife had left him, kids long gone. He didn’t talk much when he got loused, he’d sometimes get in the mood to share but it was rare so I didn’t know him all that well. Still, he was a fixture in my life and had been awhile and seeing his eyes gentle on me I knew would undo me.
Colt wasn’t through with me, I should have known he wouldn’t be by the way he treated Susie.
As he walked down the bar toward the door, he said loud enough for everyone to hear, “See you at home, Feb.”
Two could play that game.
“I’ll be late,” I called to his back, “pull the covers back for me, baby.”
He stopped with the door open in his hand, his eyes sliced to me and it was a wonder I didn’t cower under his dark look but he didn’t hesitate before he openly gutted me. “Honey, you know I’d do anything for you.”
The door closed him from sight and the bar was silent for a good four beats before the murmur of conversation jumpstarted my muscles.
Morrie slid close to me. “Feel like talkin’ about Colt yet?”
“Fuck off, Morrie,” I snapped.
“Didn’t think so,” Morrie muttered but there was laughter in his voice and I just caught him exchanging a smile with Joe-Bob before they wiped their faces clean and I got down to the business under more than a dozen curious eyes of wiping the bar top, every f**king inch so spotless it was sparkling.
