“I’m sorry about Puck,” I whispered and I knew it sounded stupid and like I hadn’t gotten myself together but his hand at my neck gave me another squeeze.
“I know you are. I am too.”
Colt knew it wasn’t stupid, he knew I was just saying I was sorry as anyone would and as I hadn’t at the time Puck died because I was avoiding him.
“This is over, you should get another dog,” I advised.
His mouth moved, I didn’t understand how but it wasn’t anger. It was something else, something attractive, almost mesmerizing.
“I’ll consider it.”
I looked from his mouth direct into his eyes. “Good.”
“Ms. Owens, if we can continue,” Agent Warren said from behind me and Colt looked there before his gaze came back to me.
“You good?” Colt asked me.
No, I was not good. Any good left to me was stuck back in memories of the Glory Days or, sometimes, when Morrie would make me laugh or seeing how great his kids were turning out to be or biting into one of Meems’s muffins or seeing her look at Al, even after all these years and four kids, like she wanted to rip his clothes off or watching Jessie’s face get soft when Jimbo did something goofy like it was anything but goofy to Jessie.
For me, I’d lived my life for awhile off other people being good.
But for the first time in a long time I was sick of living in a fog most of the time and sick of feeling shit the rest of it and I wanted good back too, but I wanted it for me.
“I’m good,” I lied.
His hand and arm went away, I stood on my own two feet and I was concentrating so much on doing that, I didn’t move away directly. I just tested my steadiness for awhile before I tipped my head back, looked Colt in the eye, took a breath and then walked back to the conference room.
Someone got me a fresh coffee and everyone resumed their places.
“Now perhaps, Ms. Owens, in light of this new evidence,” Agent Nowakowski carefully placed the daisy bag on the table, his voice was gentle but probing, “we should go back over your relationship with Lieutenant Colton.”
His eyes were on me and he was examining me like Colt did yesterday and I figured, considering he did what he did for a living, there was a lot he could see.
Therefore, because this was important, not looking at Sully and hoping to God he’d keep his partner mouth shut even though I knew there was no way in hell he would, I said, “Alec Colton had been in my life since I was three to the time I was twenty. Not like my brother, something more. Everyone knew it, my family, our friends, everyone in town. Our breakup came as a surprise and still does to some, that’s how big it was. I broke up with him and it doesn’t matter why, I just did. He didn’t break up with me. This guy, whoever he is, is not going to care about that. I went off the rails after that and this guy, whoever he is, will know that like he knows everything else. And he’ll blame Ale… Colt.” I took a sip of coffee, swallowed then took a deep breath and went on. “It wasn’t about high school sweethearts. Even when we were high school sweethearts, it was more. It was much more, more than many people have in their lives. Everyone knew that too. They also know, once I went off the rails, I never found my way back. Even after coming home. I suspect he wants to make Colt pay for that, even pay for taking me away when that wasn’t Colt’s fault either. So that’s it, that’s the story. There’s no words to explain how big it was, what Colt and I had, or how much it hurts when something that big in your life is swept away, or how empty that place is that he once filled, or how impossible it is to find something to fill it, but since everyone knew I drained myself empty, I suspect this guy knew too.” I sat back and finished, “That’s it.”
Everyone was silent. I chanced a glance at Sully and he was looking at his knees.
“Lieutenant Colton was a lucky man,” Agent Nowakowski said gently and my eyes moved to him. He was still studying me but now his eyes were as gentle as his voice.
“Make no mistake, sir,” I replied, “Alec Colton was never lucky. He came into this world one of the most unlucky sons of bitches you’ve ever met and he’s worked his ass off for everything he’s ever had.”
I had no clue how proud I sounded, nor how fierce, but out of the corner of my eye I saw Sully’s head jerk up but it was what Agent Nowakowski said next that kept my attention on him.
“February, the mistake is yours if you think that’s true.”
I heard a loud reverberating sound, like a tiny drop of moisture splashing against the bottom of a dry, cavernous pit.
I almost looked around to find the source of the noise until I realized I was the only one who heard it because it was coming from inside of me.
* * * * *
Colt walked into J&J’s, it was early but he was off duty. The Feds and Sully were still working but after the scene in the Station his already minor “consultative capacity” became miniscule.
There was another reason he escaped the Station and that was because Sully had told him probably a dozen times that day they needed to talk about “what Feb said in that room”.
Seemed everyone wanted to discuss him and February, Susie, Jack, Morrie, Sully.
As for Sully, to be fair to Feb, Colt thought it was her choice if she wanted to share. He’d f**king well like to know what she said, make no mistake, but she should be the one to choose to tell him.
Walking into J&J’s, he knew he was likely jumping straight out of the frying pan into the fire. But Feb had said she’d cried in the bar when she’d heard about Puck and that meant the killer was in the bar to see her crying and therefore Colt was going to be in J&J’s scrutinizing the crowd.
It was Friday night and J&J’s like always on Fridays was packed. Darryl and Jack were working the bar, Feb and Ruthie, Morrie and Feb’s only other employee outside Fritzi who came in every morning to mop and clean, were both out amongst the tables, dropping drinks.
Morrie was nowhere to be seen.
Feb glanced up, saw him and dipped her chin like he’d seen her do to hundreds of customers, saying hello, asking, nonverbally, “What can I get you?” or “You want another?”
Colt felt exactly as he felt that morning when she’d denied him the jaw tilt for the first time since he could remember. He felt like he felt when she called him Colt for the first time something he’d repeatedly told her to do but something he found he f**king hated when she finally did it.
“I know you are. I am too.”
Colt knew it wasn’t stupid, he knew I was just saying I was sorry as anyone would and as I hadn’t at the time Puck died because I was avoiding him.
“This is over, you should get another dog,” I advised.
His mouth moved, I didn’t understand how but it wasn’t anger. It was something else, something attractive, almost mesmerizing.
“I’ll consider it.”
I looked from his mouth direct into his eyes. “Good.”
“Ms. Owens, if we can continue,” Agent Warren said from behind me and Colt looked there before his gaze came back to me.
“You good?” Colt asked me.
No, I was not good. Any good left to me was stuck back in memories of the Glory Days or, sometimes, when Morrie would make me laugh or seeing how great his kids were turning out to be or biting into one of Meems’s muffins or seeing her look at Al, even after all these years and four kids, like she wanted to rip his clothes off or watching Jessie’s face get soft when Jimbo did something goofy like it was anything but goofy to Jessie.
For me, I’d lived my life for awhile off other people being good.
But for the first time in a long time I was sick of living in a fog most of the time and sick of feeling shit the rest of it and I wanted good back too, but I wanted it for me.
“I’m good,” I lied.
His hand and arm went away, I stood on my own two feet and I was concentrating so much on doing that, I didn’t move away directly. I just tested my steadiness for awhile before I tipped my head back, looked Colt in the eye, took a breath and then walked back to the conference room.
Someone got me a fresh coffee and everyone resumed their places.
“Now perhaps, Ms. Owens, in light of this new evidence,” Agent Nowakowski carefully placed the daisy bag on the table, his voice was gentle but probing, “we should go back over your relationship with Lieutenant Colton.”
His eyes were on me and he was examining me like Colt did yesterday and I figured, considering he did what he did for a living, there was a lot he could see.
Therefore, because this was important, not looking at Sully and hoping to God he’d keep his partner mouth shut even though I knew there was no way in hell he would, I said, “Alec Colton had been in my life since I was three to the time I was twenty. Not like my brother, something more. Everyone knew it, my family, our friends, everyone in town. Our breakup came as a surprise and still does to some, that’s how big it was. I broke up with him and it doesn’t matter why, I just did. He didn’t break up with me. This guy, whoever he is, is not going to care about that. I went off the rails after that and this guy, whoever he is, will know that like he knows everything else. And he’ll blame Ale… Colt.” I took a sip of coffee, swallowed then took a deep breath and went on. “It wasn’t about high school sweethearts. Even when we were high school sweethearts, it was more. It was much more, more than many people have in their lives. Everyone knew that too. They also know, once I went off the rails, I never found my way back. Even after coming home. I suspect he wants to make Colt pay for that, even pay for taking me away when that wasn’t Colt’s fault either. So that’s it, that’s the story. There’s no words to explain how big it was, what Colt and I had, or how much it hurts when something that big in your life is swept away, or how empty that place is that he once filled, or how impossible it is to find something to fill it, but since everyone knew I drained myself empty, I suspect this guy knew too.” I sat back and finished, “That’s it.”
Everyone was silent. I chanced a glance at Sully and he was looking at his knees.
“Lieutenant Colton was a lucky man,” Agent Nowakowski said gently and my eyes moved to him. He was still studying me but now his eyes were as gentle as his voice.
“Make no mistake, sir,” I replied, “Alec Colton was never lucky. He came into this world one of the most unlucky sons of bitches you’ve ever met and he’s worked his ass off for everything he’s ever had.”
I had no clue how proud I sounded, nor how fierce, but out of the corner of my eye I saw Sully’s head jerk up but it was what Agent Nowakowski said next that kept my attention on him.
“February, the mistake is yours if you think that’s true.”
I heard a loud reverberating sound, like a tiny drop of moisture splashing against the bottom of a dry, cavernous pit.
I almost looked around to find the source of the noise until I realized I was the only one who heard it because it was coming from inside of me.
* * * * *
Colt walked into J&J’s, it was early but he was off duty. The Feds and Sully were still working but after the scene in the Station his already minor “consultative capacity” became miniscule.
There was another reason he escaped the Station and that was because Sully had told him probably a dozen times that day they needed to talk about “what Feb said in that room”.
Seemed everyone wanted to discuss him and February, Susie, Jack, Morrie, Sully.
As for Sully, to be fair to Feb, Colt thought it was her choice if she wanted to share. He’d f**king well like to know what she said, make no mistake, but she should be the one to choose to tell him.
Walking into J&J’s, he knew he was likely jumping straight out of the frying pan into the fire. But Feb had said she’d cried in the bar when she’d heard about Puck and that meant the killer was in the bar to see her crying and therefore Colt was going to be in J&J’s scrutinizing the crowd.
It was Friday night and J&J’s like always on Fridays was packed. Darryl and Jack were working the bar, Feb and Ruthie, Morrie and Feb’s only other employee outside Fritzi who came in every morning to mop and clean, were both out amongst the tables, dropping drinks.
Morrie was nowhere to be seen.
Feb glanced up, saw him and dipped her chin like he’d seen her do to hundreds of customers, saying hello, asking, nonverbally, “What can I get you?” or “You want another?”
Colt felt exactly as he felt that morning when she’d denied him the jaw tilt for the first time since he could remember. He felt like he felt when she called him Colt for the first time something he’d repeatedly told her to do but something he found he f**king hated when she finally did it.
