Even though Mac had insisted that I leave work and go to the hospital to get checked out, I refused to go. I didn’t tell her that, but I knew she didn’t believe me when I promised her I would. I had taken much more brutal beatings in prison than this bar fight. It was just a few bumps and bruises, nothing that wouldn’t heal. Thankfully the blade never got close to me.

I was more worried about Ally. When she started shaking and her eyes glazed over, I recognized the signs of shock. But I knew that I wasn’t the one to console her. She had made that blatantly clear by avoiding me every chance she got. I couldn’t help but think that me working at the same place was looking for trouble. Had I known she also worked there when Mac offered me a job, I would have turned it down there and then. To find her working there was a surprise on my first day. I could tell by the look on her face that she thought I had gotten the job to be near her.

Although, I yearned to talk to her about what happened between us, I respected her space. She still caught me staring at her every now and again at work, but I couldn’t help it. I was drawn to her; I had been since we were younger. She haunted my dreams at night and visited my thoughts during the day. And no matter how hard I tried to ignore it, I couldn’t. I had no idea what to do, but I knew we couldn’t go on much longer living as strangers in the same house. I contemplated waiting for her outside, but when Mac came over to me after the fight, she assured me that she would take care of Ally.

On my way home, I had a lot of time to think about everything that had happened. It wasn’t about the fight. I was a bouncer. It went with the territory. Besides, it wasn’t the first brawl I’d been in and probably wouldn’t be the last. No, the thoughts that kept coming into my head were about the future. While in Kenworth, I lived in the moment, struggling to survive day by day, never thinking about anything else. The future didn’t matter, since I already appeased myself with the fact that I didn’t have one to look forward to. There were days where I half expected it to be my last.

I tried to not let the darkness in, but sometimes it would still found me. There had been many nights in prison, when I had been so overcome with grief, shame, and loneliness that I had prayed for it to end. But those prayers had gone unanswered. But last night, for the first time, I was thankful that I had survived.

I climbed the steps to our front porch, but instead of walking in I sat down on the old porch swing. Swaying slowly, I tried to think about what I wanted, where I saw myself in a few years from now, who I saw myself with and what I wanted out of life. Once the probationary period was up, I was free to leave the city. Hell, I could leave the state or even the country and start over. I tried to imagine where I would go or what I would be doing. But whenever I thought about the future, all I could see was Ally’s face. I wanted the opportunity to make things right with her. I wanted a future with her, but my hopes for that had diminished to nothing but a puff of smoke swirling up into the atmosphere and slowly disappearing.

As I stood up to head in, a pair of headlights blinded me before turning into the drive. Once the white spots faded, I could see Jaime coming up the walk, but her smile faded instantly.

“Jason, oh my god. What happened?” she cried out and rushed up the steps immediately inspecting the bruises that marred my face.

“Easy, easy,” I said pulling her hands away from my face. The swelling was down, but it was still sensitive.

“What happened?” she asked again.

“There was an incident at the bar tonight.”

“An incident? This looks like a lot more than an incident Jason.”

“It looks worse than it feels,” I lied, but I didn’t want her to worry, “Look, I will tell you the details, but I don’t want to do it out here.”

Glancing around at the neighboring houses, I felt exposed. She nodded in agreement and led the way inside. I followed her into the kitchen, where she pulled out two glasses and proceeded to pour us both a generous helping of whiskey. I didn’t ask her when she had started drinking whiskey. I would save that question for another time.

“Okay, spill it,” she said as she eyed me curiously over the rim of her glass.

“It’s really nothing.” But she just raised an eyebrow at me. “Okay, so it was a little more than nothing. There were a few guys who had too much to drink and began harassing Ally,” I began. “Relax, she’s fine.” I could tell she was about to lose her shit, so I quickly alleviated her fears. “She just got pushed into a table, but she is fine. She was in shock more than anything. Mac is having her stay with her tonight.”

“So what happened to you then?” she asked softly.

“It wasn’t a big deal; really, one of the guys got a little handsy with Ally.” I shrugged trying not to make too much of it. “I came over and politely asked the guy to let her go.”

“Politely huh?” she said.

“Yes, politely, anyways, I told her to tab them out. When it came time to pay, they didn’t want to leave and they needed a little encouragement.”

“Encouragement?”

“Look Jaime, I didn’t hit him first if that’s what you are concerned about. He pushed Ally into the table and I stepped in to make sure she was okay and that they were leaving. Then he came at me when my back was turned. It was self-defense, nothing more. Eventually, they left and that was it.”

She stared at me with a blank expression, but her eyes strained as if they were trying to detect a lie. I held myself under her direct gaze, refusing to look away.

“Okay, if that’s all you say it was. Then I believe you. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

I felt a little bit of guilt at not having told her the whole truth. I may have glossed over the details about the knife and may have left out a couple of guys, but she didn’t need to know the exact details; at least not tonight. The important thing was that Ally wasn’t hurt and my face would heal. That seemed to placate her for the time being. We chitchatted for a little bit longer, but between the shot of whiskey and coming down from the adrenaline rush from the fight, I was beat. Claiming exhaustion, I begged off to bed and headed upstairs. I didn’t even bother getting undressed. I just kicked off my shoes and flopped into bed fully clothed. In a matter of minutes, I was fast asleep.

Sometime in the night, I must have woken up and stripped because I woke in just boxers and a t-shirt with my clothes scattered all over the floor. I didn’t remember doing it, but I must have gotten hot or something. Still feeling a little rough from the night before, I took a long shower before heading down to the kitchen.

I found a sweet little note from Jaime on the refrigerator. She had made me some scones before she headed off to class. I had just finished off my second one, when the doorbell rang.

Who the hell could that be?

Whoever it was must have been really persistent, because I had barely made it to the door before they rang the doorbell again.

“What the hell do you...,” but the words caught in my throat. Standing before me were two county police officers. One of whom, I recognized as the officer who had arrested me for the murder of my step-father eight years ago. Ice cold fear, gripped my spine and sheen of clammy sweat broke out on my forehead.

“Mr. Armstrong?” the older one asked. Him I didn’t recognize. Either he was new to the force, or hadn’t been involved in my case.

“Yes,” I answered slowly. I hated cops. Especially the county cops because they had all been in the Walters back pocket. I had never shared with anyone the abuse I had suffered at the hands of the cops. No one would have believed me anyway. And even if they did, they would have believed that I deserved whatever treatment I got.

“We need you to come with us down to the station.” His voice was monotone and his expression blank, but warning bells were going off in my head. “We just want to ask you a few questions.”

Bullshit

“Why can’t you just ask me now?”

“Cut the crap Armstrong!” Officer Maynard piped up. He had always been an arrogant son of a bitch. “We know you kicked the crap out of some guys at Hennigan’s last night. And now they are pressing charges. It’s back to the big pen for you, my friend.”

“Cool it Maynard,” the officer stepped in, thumping a hand to his chest. From the name on his badge, he was Officer Kristoff.

I looked at Officer Kristoff because he seemed the more level-headed of the two. “I don’t know what they told you, but they jumped me. They were harassing one of our waitresses, even pushed her, and then they jumped me.”

“Likely story,” Maynard scoffed, but Officer Kristoff cut him off with a glare.

“Mr. Armstrong, I’m sorry but you have to come to the station with us. Now you can come quietly under your own volition, or we can place you under arrest.”

I glanced from one cop to the other. Maynard was practically vibrating in his polished wingtips, itching to put me in handcuffs again. But I couldn’t give him the satisfaction. I thought of Jaime and how she would handle this. I owed it to her, to minimize the damage.

Nodding my ascent, Officer Kristoff backed off gesturing towards the car. Thankfully, they were in an unmarked car and not a police cruiser. I closed and locked the door behind me before climbing into the backseat. As we pulled out of the driveway, I glanced up at the house and prayed that this would not be the last time I saw it.