I stared at the cellphone, half expecting it to ring. I looked to the door. I thought about the day two men showed up. The door behind me opened first with a white faced Rich standing there. Grease on his face like war paint but tears already in his eyes. The way his voice crackled when he said They’re here… this can’t be right, Gav…

I shut my eyes and rubbed my jaw.

I leaned back in the chair. It groaned in protest and I knew it was only a matter of time before the chair gave way.

The main office door opened and in came Stacey.

“Well, well, well,” I said. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

“Shut up,” she said. She threw her keys at me and I caught them. I then turned my head and smacked the door open to the garage. I stuck my fingers in my mouth and whistled. Donny poked his head up from the hood of a truck and then walked to me.

“Stacey’s car,” I said. “Take good care of it.”

Donny looked at Stacey. “What’s wrong?”

“Inspection time,” she said. “I think I need brakes. They squeak a lot.”

“We’ll take care of it,” Donny said.

I stood up and shut the door. “You need a ride anywhere?”

“Mind taking me back home?”

“Sure thing,” I said.

We got into my truck and Stacey waited no more than five seconds to dig into me.

“Did I fuck you over the other night? With that woman? If I did, I didn’t mean to. I had a really…”

“It’s fine,” I said. “Nothing happened anyway. She was having a rough night too.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t know, Stacey. She got way too drunk for her own good. She was lucky she was with me and not some jackass.”

“The man of honor,” Stacey said.

“Right.”

“So… did you hear from her again?”

I glanced at Stacey. “City girl comes to the little town for a fun night. She’s not coming back.”

“Your poor, broken heart.”

“I don’t know how I’ll sleep without her.”

Stacey snorted and laughed.

“Want to tell me why you had a bad night?”

“Not really.”

I drove in silence. I was able to make silence very uncomfortable. But it was Stacey who was making things extremely uncomfortable.

I purposely missed a turn. I took a left when I should have taken a right.

See, the thing with Stacey was that we could be in silence but I could still get to her. She grew up with all of us. Not quite in the mix of things like Nikki was, but she was close. Hell, she and Nikki were at one time the best of friends. Then in typical high school fashion, a boy caused a little rift. That rift never was healed and they finally just broke apart for good. Which was terrible because they both needed each other.

I didn’t realize how much they needed each other until Stacey finally succumbed to my silence. She started to unbutton her shirt and I didn’t quite know what she was doing. For a second I thought she mistook my purposely driving in the wrong direction as an opening to sleep together. Trust me, it had happened before.

I watched as she opened every button and then slid the material down her left shoulder. I opened my mouth to make sure this wasn’t an opening for sex but I saw the bruise on her arm. In fact, there were several of them. Lined up perfectly… like it was a hand…

I threw the wheel to the right and pulled over.

“What the hell is that?” I asked.

“Lyle is back in town,” Stacey admitted.

“Jesus Christ.”

“Gavin…”

“No. When?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“Two fucking weeks ago?”

“He got let go from the construction company. He called me and asked if he could stop by and talk. He showed up and said he was going through some changes. Showed me some stuff about his recovery. It was legit, Gav. I swear.”

I gritted my teeth.

Lyle was the fuckhead that brought drugs into everyone’s lives. Getting together, sitting in the back of a pickup truck, and getting high was one thing. But when Lyle started showing up with pills, powders, and needles, things took a dark turn. And when Stacey needed comfort, he was the one to give it to her. In the wrong fucking way. And I blamed myself for not saving her from that world.

She married the asshole on a weekend bender and he started to toss her around the house. She kicked him out and let him back in like he was a stray cat looking for some food. Until six months ago when he had a gun on the kitchen table. Lucky for Stacey he was passed out when she got home. We called the cops and Lyle swore he was just cleaning the gun. That prompted Stacey to wake the hell up and get him out of her life for good.

“What about the divorce?” I asked.

“That’s been done for months,” she said.

“But he’s back now.”

“I let him back. Again.” She shook her head. “I’m an idiot, Gav.”

“You’re not an idiot,” I said. I looked out the windshield of the truck.

What the fuck, Luke? You’re supposed to be here with me for this crazy shit. We were together, bro. Shoulder to shoulder. What the fuck…

“When did it happen?”

“Night before that night at the bar,” Stacey said. “He got drunk. Got high. Big shocker. I called him out. He grabbed me and just…” Stacey swallowed back tears. “Fucking construction job put some serious muscle on him. He’s so strong now. He’s not this weak little dude getting high.”

“Fuck,” I said. “Stacey, do you want him there?”

“No.”

That’s all I needed to hear.

I put the truck into drive.

Stacey fixed her shirt.

She didn’t speak a word.

She knew better than to try and stop me from what I had to do next.

 

* * *

 

I pulled into the driveway of the house. Stacey had worked hard to clean the place up. Landscaped it. Cut the grass. She took pride in her house. Which was good. She grew up one wall short of homeless so I knew what it meant to her to have this place. She fought and clawed to keep the house and did.

But now her comfort was compromised.

I opened the door and Stacey grabbed my wrist. “Gav…”

“No,” I said.

I walked around the front of my truck and went to the front door. It was sickening that I had to knock on the fucking door. To a house that didn’t belong locked by someone other than Stacey.

When the door opened, there stood Lyle in a flannel. Unbuttoned, no shirt under it, his beer gut sticking out. He was holding a can of cheap beer.

Stacey was right, he did put on some size. But that meant nothing to me.

“Holy shit,” he said. “Gavin. What the fuck is happening, brother? Jesus, man, it’s been a long time, huh? Hey, look, I don’t know where Stacey is… no, wait. She was going to look for you…”

“Come here for a second,” I said.

I backed up.

Lyle was dumb enough to step out of the house. I backed up enough so he would see my truck. And would see Stacey sitting in the passenger seat.

“Fucking cunt,” Lyle muttered.

I grabbed him by the shirt and threw him over the railing of the porch. He went down, face first into a bush. He rolled and kicked, getting to his feet. I grabbed the railing and jumped over. There was this pounding feeling in my chest I couldn’t control. So much more ache than just what Lyle did to Stacey.

“I dare you to hit me,” Lyle said.

Challenge fucking accepted.

I threw a right and clocked him in his jaw. He spun and stumbled, grabbing at his face.

“She can’t keep her mouth shut!” Lyle yelled.

I ran at him. He threw an elbow and got me in the stomach. He turned and punched me in the same spot, knocking the wind out of me. I still managed to throw another punch, hitting him in the shoulder. A weak fucking punch.

Lyle stood and faced me. “You protecting the pussy, huh? Kept that warm for me? Don’t think I don’t know you were fucking her when she was still my wife.”

“Finishing the job you couldn’t even start,” I said.

“Yeah. Right. Hey, how’s your brother doing?”

That was the line. The. Line.

I heard the door to my truck open. I heard Stacey scream my name. Then she screamed Lyle, what the hell did you say that for? but it was too late for Lyle.

I went after him.

Fists flying like I had only seconds to live. He punched me back but I didn’t feel it. Blood seeping from my lip and nose but that was nothing compared to his face. I finally got him to the ground and I didn’t stop there. My left hand holding just below his throat and my right hand unleashing.

I didn’t stop until I felt a hot stinging pain across my face.

I turned my head and saw Stacey standing there, holding her hand.

She slapped me.

I looked down at Lyle.

He was a mess.

I regained a sense of reality and then stood up. I shook my hands and wiped my face.

“Fucking asshole,” I said. I took money out of my pocket and threw it at Lyle. “Get the fuck out of here. And if you step one foot in this town again I’m going to do worse.”

I looked at Stacey.

“Gavin…”

I took a breath. My teeth gritted hard together. “I’ll call someone to come here. Make sure he gets out of here. Then we’ll call you when your car is ready.”

I walked away.

I got into the truck and was still fired up. My right hand was bleeding and swollen. My face looked the same.

Sometimes I wished the entire town would just burn. The sins of the past would forever haunt.

That’s when my phone buzzed with a text message.

From a number I didn’t know.

Guess who? For the record - I should have stayed for bacon and eggs

I read the message three times and then laughed.

How could a stranger be the only person to make me smile?

 

* * *

 

I held the beat up tennis ball in my hand and threw it. I used to throw it all the way down to the edge of the driveway, even to the road. Jesse would take off running, not even looking for the ball, being smart enough to know how far I’d throw it. He’d then stop, turn, and look up for the ball. He perfected the move and would then launch up into the air and catch the ball.

Now… the tennis ball rolled about ten feet in the grass.

Jesse looked at the ball. Then he looked back at me.

“Humor me,” I said.

I took the last drag of a refreshing smoke and then tossed it into the pan of a fire pit I had near the side of the house. I had a much bigger fire pit out back, custom built with stone and shit. Did it myself last year. Had a fire in it twice.

Jesse looked at me again.

Damn, I wished he could talk. Just for a day. Just to hear what he had to say. I never met a dog whose eyes had so much human personality.

“Come on,” I said. “Look at me.” I pointed to my face. “I had a rough day here.”

I swore Jesse sighed. Then he trotted over to the tennis ball and picked it up. He walked it to me and dropped it at my feet. He plopped down and put his large head on my foot and let out a groan.

“Good boy,” I whispered. “Good boy.”

I heard the sound of the car on the dirt road before I saw it.

It intrigued me that not only was Olivia actually at my house again, but she arrived in another black car. Windows tinted. A private car. Not some cab or a friend driving her. Hell, not even driving herself even.

After what went down with Stacey and Lyle, a distraction was much needed.

And that distraction waited for the driver of the car to open the back door. She got out, grabbed a bag, then walked from the car to my yard.

Jesse popped back up on all fours and watched the entire thing unfold, head cocked to the side.

“Some guard dog you are,” I said. “You could at least pretend to bark.”

Jess then sat. Tail wagging.

Olivia approached and I raised an eyebrow and pointed to the bag. “That for your vodka?”

“Funny.”

“Or maybe a change of clothes for the next time you get sick.”

“I’m not going to live that dow-” Olivia froze. “Your face. What happened to your face?”

“Fits me, right?”

Olivia dropped the bag. She ran toward me and grabbed my arm. “Seriously. What happened?”

“Nothing. Misunderstanding.”

“With who?”

“An old friend.”

“An old friend? You got punched…”

“You’re missing the important question, Olivia.”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“You didn’t ask me what the other guy looked like.”

I smirked.

She was really surprised.

Again, she intrigued me.

“Just who…”

I saw Jesse step forward toward Olivia’s bag.

“Uh, you might want to move that bag,” I said. “Jesse looks ready to hose it down.”

“He… what…”

Olivia turned her head and yelled. Jesse looked back and lifted his right leg.

Olivia got the bag just in time. She clutched it to her chest. I had no idea the design and logo of the bag but it looked expensive.

“What do you do for a living?” I asked.

“What?”

“You heard me. You know what I do. It’s time you tell me something about yourself. I mean, you show up here twice now…”

Olivia didn’t respond.

She was hiding something.

I nodded. “So here’s what we do now, Olivia. Two choices. One, you tell me what you were talking about when you were drunk. You asked me about people dying. You said something about doing more for her. Then you passed out. Or, two, you tell me what you do for a living.”

“One, I was drunk,” Olivia said.

Bullshit…

“Two, I’m a business consultant.”

“What does that mean?”

“I consult businesses.”

“Fancy, huh?”

“It pays the bills,” Olivia said. “You’ve never…” She looked away and smiled. “Never mind. Let’s say, for example, a company needs to research a new market. Or wants an outside view of their business plan and operation. Or maybe they need help with a presentation. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

I nodded. “Smart chick.”

“Chick,” Olivia said. “Wow. I’m holding a twenty thousand dollar bag and I’m reduced to chick.”

“Jesus, what the hell do you do with a bag worth twenty large?” I asked.

“Throw it over your shoulder and walk into your house and get a beer,” Olivia said.

Bold. Sexy. A little bit of confidence showing through.

I liked it.

I turned and pointed to my house. “This is fucking crazy. But I’m in the mood for crazy.” I pointed to my face.

She walked to me and then put a hand to my chest. “And I want to know the story of your face.”

Olivia touched my chin. I quickly grabbed her hand and winked. “Don’t forget, darling, you owe me a night. Carrying your drunk ass into my house, cleaning you up, giving you the couch, and checking on you so you didn’t get hurt… that’s not my version of a one night stand.”

“Lucky for you, this is the second night.”

I ran my thumb across her hand and then let her go.

She walked away and I watched. Her hips tick-tocking, counting the wild seconds of my life.

I looked over at Jesse and his tail was still wagging. “What are you so excited about? I saw her first.”

Jesse barked.

Damn dog…