“Alec,” I said.
“Colt, man, you know that can’t happen. You’re primary on the investigation,” Sully reminded him.
Alec was single-minded, not moving his eyes from me, he’d made a decision. “Morrie f**ked up, you stay with me.”
“I’m not staying with you.”
“You aren’t staying with Jimbo and,” his head dipped to my arm, “you aren’t staying with Morrie.”
“She’s fine with us,” Jessie said.
“She can’t stay with you, man, you’d be yanked off the case,” Sully told him.
Alec bit his lip then looked at Morrie. “Explain why you marked her.”
“Like I said,” Morrie was now getting pissed, “let’s go in the back.”
“Explain why she’s standin’ there with your mark on her after what she went through yesterday,” Alec pushed, already pissed.
“Dude, as I said –”
“Explain why she lived through that ass**le usin’ his fists on her only to have her f**king brother mark her.”
The bar, already on silent alert, everyone listening in and not hiding it, went wired.
Not me. I felt something else. Something far from pleasant. Something that made me feel sick.
Morrie’s voice was vibrating when he warned, “Colt, don’t compare me to Pete.”
“You aren’t explaining.”
“What’s goin’ on here?” my Dad said as my cell phone at my ass rang.
No one had noticed the door open. No one had noticed Mom and Dad walk in. No one.
Dad was looking between Morrie and Alec, his expression the same as it always was when he had to wade into one of their arguments or one of my arguments with Morrie.
Mom’s eyes were on me.
I wasn’t thinking. I should have said something, defused the situation. At least greeted my Mom and Dad who I hadn’t seen since Christmas and it was now March. But instead I pulled the phone out of my back pocket, flipped it open and put it to my ear.
“Hello?”
I didn’t even hear the words, the screeching was so loud there were barely words to be heard.
But even through the phone I could feel the fury, the anguish, the blame.
“Slow down,” I said into the screeching, “what?”
“Hacked!” a voice I distractedly recognized as LeeAnne’s shrieked a word in my ear that made my chest hollow out again. “Hacked!” she repeated.
“What?” I whispered.
“His landlord was at his f**king house when I called. He f**king picked up the phone. He f**king told me he was f**king hacked up with a f**king hatchet.”
“Who?” I asked but I knew. I knew. I knewIknewIknewIknew.
“Who?” she squealed, “Pete!”
“Oh my God,” I whispered but the phone was sliding from my hand.
I didn’t drop it, Alec was there taking it from me. Then he was talking in my phone. I heard my Mom’s voice, my Dad’s, Morrie’s, Jessie’s, Joe-Bob’s, Sully’s. I felt hands on me.
Then I ran fast to the women’s toilets. Up came Meems’s muffin and the coffee I had at her place. Then I wretched more. And more. Nothing coming out but my body wanted me to expel something else. Something it couldn’t get rid of no matter how much I heaved. I felt the pain in my chest with the effort, the burning in the back of my throat, someone holding back my hair, me holding onto the toilet and heaving.
“Stop it, Feb,” my Mom said in my ear, she was close I could feel the heat from her body.
“I’ve got to get it out,” I gasped.
“Nothing else in there, honey.”
“I’ve got to get it out.”
Her cool hand wrapped around my hot forehead just like it did when I was a kid and I closed my eyes and focused on her touch.
I stopped heaving and sat back on my haunches.
“Go, Jessie. To the store. Toothbrush, toothpaste. Tell Morrie to bring some lemon-lime in here, a cold one, and a wet cloth.”
I heard Jessie move but I didn’t see her.
I saw a body by the dumpster, this time though it wasn’t Angie’s. It was Pete’s.
I hated him, he hurt me, he nearly raped me, my husband, but it was true. He proved what I suspected, that men were no good. There were good men, like Alec, who were no good and there were shit men, like Pete, who were no good. That was all I knew. I’d wanted him to heal the wound but I knew, partway in it with him, he couldn’t do that. Then I’d wanted him to numb the pain, but he’d only given me more then taken away all that I had left.
But I didn’t want him dead. Not any way but not that way.
“Feb, look at me, look at your Momma.”
I didn’t look at her, I asked, “What is it about me?”
“Honey, look at me.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”
Her hand came to my cheek and she tried to force me to look at her but I fought it, holding my neck still, clenching my teeth, staring at the wall.
“Honey –”
“Who’s next?”
“February, you’re scaring me,” Mom said. “I need you to look at me.”
Before I could do anything, even before I knew if I would, hands were under my armpits and I was hauled to my feet, pulled out of the stall, seeing my Mom on her knees by the toilet, her head tipped back, her eyes on some point over my shoulder, some spot higher than me.
I twisted my neck and tilted my head back too and saw Alec had hold of me.
“We need assistance here?” Sully asked, his voice nasally but the authority was still there.
I’d only ever heard that kind of authority from a cop. Teachers had a different kind. My Dad, an even different kind. Mom, even different. Teachers, Dads and Moms, sometimes you listened, sometimes you didn’t. But somehow you always listened to a cop.
“Maybe she needs to talk to someone,” Mom said, getting up slowly but I didn’t see her get to her feet.
I was jostled, brought around face to face with Alec.
“You need to talk to someone?” he asked, his body bent, his face in mine and I didn’t know what his question was about so I didn’t answer.
“Maybe she needs something to help her rest.” This suggestion came from Morrie. “She doesn’t sleep too good. Maybe we should take her to see Doc.”
“You need something to help you rest?” Alec asked like Morrie was in another room talking to Alec in an earpiece and I couldn’t hear my brother.
“Colt, man, you know that can’t happen. You’re primary on the investigation,” Sully reminded him.
Alec was single-minded, not moving his eyes from me, he’d made a decision. “Morrie f**ked up, you stay with me.”
“I’m not staying with you.”
“You aren’t staying with Jimbo and,” his head dipped to my arm, “you aren’t staying with Morrie.”
“She’s fine with us,” Jessie said.
“She can’t stay with you, man, you’d be yanked off the case,” Sully told him.
Alec bit his lip then looked at Morrie. “Explain why you marked her.”
“Like I said,” Morrie was now getting pissed, “let’s go in the back.”
“Explain why she’s standin’ there with your mark on her after what she went through yesterday,” Alec pushed, already pissed.
“Dude, as I said –”
“Explain why she lived through that ass**le usin’ his fists on her only to have her f**king brother mark her.”
The bar, already on silent alert, everyone listening in and not hiding it, went wired.
Not me. I felt something else. Something far from pleasant. Something that made me feel sick.
Morrie’s voice was vibrating when he warned, “Colt, don’t compare me to Pete.”
“You aren’t explaining.”
“What’s goin’ on here?” my Dad said as my cell phone at my ass rang.
No one had noticed the door open. No one had noticed Mom and Dad walk in. No one.
Dad was looking between Morrie and Alec, his expression the same as it always was when he had to wade into one of their arguments or one of my arguments with Morrie.
Mom’s eyes were on me.
I wasn’t thinking. I should have said something, defused the situation. At least greeted my Mom and Dad who I hadn’t seen since Christmas and it was now March. But instead I pulled the phone out of my back pocket, flipped it open and put it to my ear.
“Hello?”
I didn’t even hear the words, the screeching was so loud there were barely words to be heard.
But even through the phone I could feel the fury, the anguish, the blame.
“Slow down,” I said into the screeching, “what?”
“Hacked!” a voice I distractedly recognized as LeeAnne’s shrieked a word in my ear that made my chest hollow out again. “Hacked!” she repeated.
“What?” I whispered.
“His landlord was at his f**king house when I called. He f**king picked up the phone. He f**king told me he was f**king hacked up with a f**king hatchet.”
“Who?” I asked but I knew. I knew. I knewIknewIknewIknew.
“Who?” she squealed, “Pete!”
“Oh my God,” I whispered but the phone was sliding from my hand.
I didn’t drop it, Alec was there taking it from me. Then he was talking in my phone. I heard my Mom’s voice, my Dad’s, Morrie’s, Jessie’s, Joe-Bob’s, Sully’s. I felt hands on me.
Then I ran fast to the women’s toilets. Up came Meems’s muffin and the coffee I had at her place. Then I wretched more. And more. Nothing coming out but my body wanted me to expel something else. Something it couldn’t get rid of no matter how much I heaved. I felt the pain in my chest with the effort, the burning in the back of my throat, someone holding back my hair, me holding onto the toilet and heaving.
“Stop it, Feb,” my Mom said in my ear, she was close I could feel the heat from her body.
“I’ve got to get it out,” I gasped.
“Nothing else in there, honey.”
“I’ve got to get it out.”
Her cool hand wrapped around my hot forehead just like it did when I was a kid and I closed my eyes and focused on her touch.
I stopped heaving and sat back on my haunches.
“Go, Jessie. To the store. Toothbrush, toothpaste. Tell Morrie to bring some lemon-lime in here, a cold one, and a wet cloth.”
I heard Jessie move but I didn’t see her.
I saw a body by the dumpster, this time though it wasn’t Angie’s. It was Pete’s.
I hated him, he hurt me, he nearly raped me, my husband, but it was true. He proved what I suspected, that men were no good. There were good men, like Alec, who were no good and there were shit men, like Pete, who were no good. That was all I knew. I’d wanted him to heal the wound but I knew, partway in it with him, he couldn’t do that. Then I’d wanted him to numb the pain, but he’d only given me more then taken away all that I had left.
But I didn’t want him dead. Not any way but not that way.
“Feb, look at me, look at your Momma.”
I didn’t look at her, I asked, “What is it about me?”
“Honey, look at me.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand.”
Her hand came to my cheek and she tried to force me to look at her but I fought it, holding my neck still, clenching my teeth, staring at the wall.
“Honey –”
“Who’s next?”
“February, you’re scaring me,” Mom said. “I need you to look at me.”
Before I could do anything, even before I knew if I would, hands were under my armpits and I was hauled to my feet, pulled out of the stall, seeing my Mom on her knees by the toilet, her head tipped back, her eyes on some point over my shoulder, some spot higher than me.
I twisted my neck and tilted my head back too and saw Alec had hold of me.
“We need assistance here?” Sully asked, his voice nasally but the authority was still there.
I’d only ever heard that kind of authority from a cop. Teachers had a different kind. My Dad, an even different kind. Mom, even different. Teachers, Dads and Moms, sometimes you listened, sometimes you didn’t. But somehow you always listened to a cop.
“Maybe she needs to talk to someone,” Mom said, getting up slowly but I didn’t see her get to her feet.
I was jostled, brought around face to face with Alec.
“You need to talk to someone?” he asked, his body bent, his face in mine and I didn’t know what his question was about so I didn’t answer.
“Maybe she needs something to help her rest.” This suggestion came from Morrie. “She doesn’t sleep too good. Maybe we should take her to see Doc.”
“You need something to help you rest?” Alec asked like Morrie was in another room talking to Alec in an earpiece and I couldn’t hear my brother.
