Текст книги "The Good Neighbor"

Автор книги: Kimberley A. Bettes

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

Before I fell into the well of pity that was headed my way, I leaned over the sink and looked out the window, searching the broad’s yard. I didn’t figure she’d be out yet. It was still pretty early, which made me wonder where the red-haired guy was going at such a time.

I imagined her in bed, sleeping soundly. Probably naked. Naked and waiting for me. Waiting for me to come into the house quietly, sneak up the stairs, slowly pull back the covers, and slide into bed beside her without waking her up. Then, she’d want me to pull her tight against me. I could almost feel her breasts in my hands as I thought about it. I imagined her to smell of flowers of some sort. It wasn’t something I liked, but I could overlook it. I smiled as I imagined the things I would do to her. Some of them, rough. Others, even rougher.

I felt the bulge in my underwear. I had to stop thinking of her now. I wanted to save everything so I could give it all to her.

I grunted as I realized it would have to wait. I had no idea if Owen was home or not. I wanted no interruptions when I was with the broad, so it would have to wait until I knew where those two idiots were.

I was tired from keeping watch and waiting all night. I’d sleep today, and then tonight, I’d wait for everyone to go to bed. Then, I’d go next door, where she’d be naked, waiting for ol’ Bernie Bear.

14 Jill

I heard Andy speed away. I had no doubts that Owen was with him. I wasn’t sure what they were trying to prove, but I didn’t really care.

I held my hair back with one hand and steadied myself with the other. When the heaving finally stopped, I pushed myself away from the porcelain bowl and fell against the wall. My forehead and the back of my neck were damp with sweat. My hands trembled. My stomach gurgled.

I waited a few minutes to be sure I wasn’t going to be sick any more. When I was fairly certain I would be okay, I got up and took a careful, slow, cold shower. It made me feel better immediately, but I still wasn’t myself. I was positive I’d be able to get through the day once I ate breakfast. Just in case, I had dry toast and water. I didn’t want to push my luck.

I left Andy a note telling him I loved him before I headed out the door to work.

Thinking it was a fluke that I’d been so ill earlier, I assumed the worst was over. It was a sudden onset of sickness. I didn’t have the flu or anything. I just woke up sick. But I felt better now.

Until I got to work.

As I pulled into the parking lot, I was overcome with nausea. I didn’t even make it to my parking space. I had to slam the brake and throw open the door. I leaned out and barely avoided ruining the interior of my car. I struggled to undo the seatbelt while leaning my head out the open door, and keeping my foot on the brake.

That was me; always multitasking.

When I was sure I was finished. I pulled my head in and shut the door. I turned the air conditioning on full blast and turned all the vents toward my face. The cool air made me feel better, but I was still weak and shaky. I continued on to my parking space. I sat in the car, unsure what to do. I should go in. I hated to miss work. But I couldn’t work like this. Vomiting every few minutes was not library etiquette. And even though I felt a little better now, I could feel that the worst wasn’t over.

I called my boss, telling her I couldn’t make it. She was worried, but I assured her I’d be fine. It was probably just a bug that would go away in a few hours. At her insistence, I agreed to go to the doctor. I wanted to go home and go back to bed, but I was already dressed and out. I knew my boss wouldn’t let up until I agreed to go. She worried too much. But I finally agreed to go just to shut her up.

15 Owen

Andy was careful to not be obvious as we followed Jenson up one street and down another. We kept a few cars between us when possible, and when that wasn’t possible, we stayed a few car lengths back.

“Where the hell is he going?” Andy asked, more to himself than me.

“I don’t know.” I yawned.

“I’m glad we don’t live in a big city. This would take all day.”

“You’re the one who wanted to stalk him,” I reminded him. Then I yawned. “Nobody said stalking was easy. If you want, we can go up to the prison and you can ask someone. They’ll tell you.”

“You don’t even know anybody in prison,” Andy said.

“I know somebody who’s about to be in prison,” I retorted.

“Oh, you know you’re having fun. This is the most excitement you’ve had in a long time. At least, that I know of.” He looked at me and winked, which told me he was referring to Carla.

I was getting ready to tell him how big a pervert he was, but before I could, he hit the steering wheel and cussed.

“What?” I asked.

“We lost him!”

“We what?”

“I looked at you for a second, and when I looked back, he was gone. We lost him. Damn it.”

We looked for him for quite a while. We circled the block several times where we’d last seen him. Then, we started working our way around to nearby streets. Finally, we spotted his car.

Andy straightened up, both hands on the wheel, eyes locked on the road ahead of us. “I’m not losing him this time.”

Andy didn’t have to be so tense for very long. Jenson pulled into a parking lot and parked his car. We parked at the far end of the lot where we could still see him, but he would never suspect us.

“Am Vets?” Andy asked. “Is he a veteran?”

“I don’t know,” I said, yawning. “Maybe.”

I struggled to think of what war he would’ve been in. Apparently, Andy was doing the same.

“Korea?” Andy pondered aloud.

“Maybe.” Then I added, “Maybe he just knows some veterans and comes here to see them.”

We were silent for a while, watching the door. Jenson remained inside.

“This doesn’t solve our puzzle at all. We must’ve missed something. He must’ve ditched the bag when we lost him.”

“Andy, he didn’t know we were following him. It’s not like he saw his opportunity and hurried up and ditched it. He didn’t have time to go anywhere far. Besides, how do you know he doesn’t still have the bag in his car?”

I could see Andy mull this over. “Yeah, maybe he still has it.” He slowly turned his head toward me, and I knew what he was thinking.

“No,” I said. “I’m tired. We’re not going to sit here and wait for him.”

“Why not?” Andy asked, as if he were a child.

“I’m exhausted, guy. I’ve been up all night, which by the way, I don’t usually do. I don’t work nights, remember? And I want to get some rest so I can go to—“

“Carla’s? Is that what you were going to say? You’d rather spend time with her than your best friend. I can’t believe you.”

“You know that isn’t true. Besides, it was you and your wife who insisted that I begin seeing someone, and as I recall, that someone was Carla. You both said so.”

“Whatever. The point is you want to rush back home so you can hang out with her when we’re on to something here, man. We could solve this riddle in a matter of minutes and put everyone’s mind at ease.”

“Or it could be hours, Andy.”

“He’s never been gone that long, has he?”

I thought about it. “I don’t know. I’ve never really paid that much attention. I’ve noticed him come and go, but never paid attention to how much time passed in between.” Another sad reminder of how caught up in my misery I’d been.

Andy was silent for a while. I tried to figure out whether or not he was really mad or just frustrated that we were so close and had still found nothing. I didn’t think he was mad. We’d never had a fight before. We’d never even had an argument. That’s not saying we’d never disagreed with each other, but we’d always done it civilly. Looking at him now, seeing the way his eyebrows were rumpled together and the intensity in his stare, I knew he wasn’t mad at me. He couldn’t be mad. It’d been his idea to hook me up with Carla. He was only wishing he could understand this Jenson thing.

As he drove me home, we talked about Jenson mostly, trying to better guess his age. We’d both known people who were a lot older than they appeared. It was possible Jenson was older than we thought. But it was also possible for him to be younger than we thought. We just couldn’t be sure. It didn’t really matter, though. The question wasn’t why Jenson was at the American Veterans building. The real question was where was the bag?

I couldn’t stop yawning.

“Man, we’re a couple of gut rumblers,” Andy said, referring to our empty stomachs. He was right, though I’d been too tired to notice. We stopped for breakfast, and it was all I could do keep from falling asleep in my pancakes.

It was almost ten o’clock before we got back to Andy’s house. I looked longingly at Carla’s house before dragging myself to mine. I fell across the bed, nearly asleep already. I wanted to call her before I was out so she’d know where I was. I managed to grab the phone off the nightstand and dial her number, which I’d fortunately memorized. I wouldn’t have had the strength to go find it.

As I listened to it ring on her end, I wondered how in the world Andy lived with such a bizarre sleep schedule. I’d missed one night and was about to go into a coma.

Carla answered on the fourth ring. I was happy to hear her voice. It was so...everything. I smiled like a fool, too tired to care, but still glad that no one was around to witness it.

After telling her I’d be there tonight and her telling me she’d be waiting, I pushed the ‘end’ button and let the phone fall on the bed beside me.

Still wearing my clothes and shoes, I fell asleep atop the blankets, dreaming of Carla.

16 Andy

I went inside, eager to sleep. I found Jill’s note on my pillow. She told me she loved me, which I already knew. That was one thing I was certain about. She loved me more than anything, as I did her. I undressed and climbed into bed, curling up with her pillow, holding her note in my hand. I breathed deeply, making sure to fill my lungs with her scent before I drifted off to sleep.

I lay there awake for a while, which I didn’t think would happen. It wasn’t the first time, though. Night shift always messed up my sleeping patterns. There were times when I was too tired to sleep, and times I fell asleep when I didn’t even feel tired. It just came with the territory. Just night shift or just day shift wouldn’t have screwed with my sleeping routine so much, but the back and forth really did a number on it.

While I waited for sleep to find me, I thought of Jenson. I tried not to, but he’s all I had. I kept seeing him dragging that bag to his trunk. It was a scene I’d watched unfold before me many, many times. And I would probably see it many more times.

I tried to imagine what I would do if he was a murderer, hacking his victims to pieces and hauling them away in trash bags. How would I deal with that?

I couldn’t see Jenson hacking anyone to pieces. He didn’t seem likely to be a butcher, what with him being old and all. But ask Gacy’s or Dahmer’s neighbors and they’ll tell you the same thing. It was possible. Anything was possible. You never knew a person, no matter how well you thought you did. Wives, husbands, children, parents, neighbors, co-workers, classmates...anyone was possible of anything at anytime. I’d seen enough news to know that was a fact.

I probably wouldn’t have even considered the possibility that an old man could do such a thing, probably wouldn’t even have murder on my mind, if I hadn’t studied serial killers in college. I was going to do something in forensics, probably along the lines of forensic pathology, but Jill didn’t like the idea of me having such a morbid job. So I’d dropped the idea. But I’d maintained my interests in psychology, human behavior, and of course, murderers.

It was my study of murderers that made me suspicious of everyone. I didn’t walk around assuming everyone was a murderer. That would make me crazy. But I did walk around assuming everyone had the potential to become a murderer. That made me cautious.

I knew looks didn’t matter when it came to killers. Ted Bundy was handsome, and look what he was hiding behind his good looks. Gender didn’t matter, though it was true that most women killed their spouses or children. Not a lot of women went around killing total strangers, though Aileen Wournos was an exception. And age certainly didn’t matter. People like to think that our elders are incapable of such horrors, but Dorothea Puente and Albert Fish are prime examples of why we shouldn’t assume that the elderly are harmless.

I sighed, disappointed. We’d done what I wanted, what I thought would work. We’d followed him. It had done no more than add to the mystery.

So now what were we going to do? I wanted to get to the bottom of this. I didn’t know why I wanted to know so badly, but I did.

I wouldn’t give up.

17 Carla

I couldn’t lie to myself. I was disappointed when Owen called and said he wouldn’t be able to come by today. I hadn’t realized how much I wanted him and expected him to be there for me. It had been a long time since there’d been anyone in my life that I could totally be myself around and whose company I enjoyed so thoroughly. I know it was selfish and foolish to expect him to spend so much time with me, but I did. I wanted it very badly.

I pushed the kids on the swing, laughing at their silliness, but my mind wasn’t in it. I couldn’t stop thinking of Owen.

I tried to wrap my mind around how anyone could leave him. His wife had left him, but for the life of me, I couldn’t understand why. It was true that I didn’t know him very well and hadn’t known him for long, but I got such a good feeling about him. He was so kind. He was so everything, actually. To name a few of his qualities, he was handsome, funny, sweet, charming, and smart. I felt so at ease around him. I couldn’t imagine a flaw he could possibly have that would drive someone away from him.

So I was very excited when he said he’d be over this evening. I couldn’t wait. I felt as silly as a schoolgirl wanting the day to rush along so I could be with my sweetheart. I tried to relax and enjoy the feeling. It really had been so long.

I had almost everything unpacked now. The kids were settling in and adjusting to being in a different place. And I was too. It was hard to start over, especially somewhere new. But Owen had made it easier for me.

Of course, Bernie flickered through my thoughts from time to time. I couldn’t imagine what would’ve happened with Bernie if Owen hadn’t shown up and taken care of him.

I glanced at his house now, trying my best to look like I wasn’t. I couldn’t deny that he gave me the creeps. He could surely overpower me if he wanted to. And I had a sneaking suspicion that he wanted to.

I worried that Owen may not always be there at the right moment. If he’d been asleep the night Bernie came over...I shuddered at the thought of what would’ve happened. What if he was asleep next time? Worse yet, what if he wasn’t home? What would I do?

I couldn’t believe how defenseless I was. That was going to have to change. I had my kids to protect. And not just from Bernie. What if someone else broke in? I had no weapons. I had no skill in using any weapons. I had nothing. I was definitely going to have to do something about that. I wondered if there were any classes given in the area. Perhaps a self-defense class or firearms training class would do me some good. It would certainly ease my mind to know that if any of the horrible things that were now on my mind happened, I’d be better equipped to protect myself and my children.

There had been so much happen on this street in the previous two years – some of it in my house. I couldn’t deny that worry was a necessity.

Once I’d drained the life out of those thoughts, I thought again of Owen. I couldn’t help but notice that every thought I had of him came with a smile. The two were synonymous. And that wasn’t such a bad thing.

I made sandwiches for lunch, and the kids and I had a picnic in the back yard. We spread an old blanket on the ground under a large oak tree. We ate and talked there in the shade. I took it all in, memorizing the moment. Their laughter, their smiles, and the funny faces they made. They were so special to me.

I threw my head back to laugh at something Ethan said, and that’s when I saw him. Or at least I thought I saw him.

Bernie was peeking through the curtains at us. I swear he was.

I stopped laughing immediately and concentrated, trying to make him out better in the shadows. I wanted to be sure. Of course, even if he was looking out the window at us, what could I do about it? Go over and tell him he couldn’t look through his own windows? That was crazy.

I couldn’t be sure now if he was there or it was all shadows. I pushed it out of my mind before the kids noticed my apprehension. I went back to enjoying the picnic, back to waiting for Owen.

18 Bernie

I absolutely couldn’t wait to sink my teeth into the broad next door. I watched her sitting in her back yard with her brats. It looked like they were having a picnic. I looked at the clock. It wouldn’t be long now until I had a little picnic of my own.

I wondered what it would be like, doing her. I pegged her for a screamer and moaner, and if that was true, it was going to be a hoot and a holler tonight. I felt the bulge growing in my underwear and decided to stop thinking of her for a while. If I wasn’t careful, there wouldn’t be anything to give to her later.

I smelled my armpits. They stunk. I didn’t care, but I thought she’d like it better if I didn’t smell so much like a skunk.

I went to the bathroom, thinking about how this was going to go down. Sitting on the toilet taking a dump, I thought of what I’d wear. I didn’t have anything decent. I never needed anything decent. I never really went anywhere except the bar. And I had bar clothes. That was my least-stained jeans, a black button-down shirt that had faded to a dark grey, and scuffed cowboy boots. Surely, that’d be good enough for her. Besides, I wasn’t going to wear clothes for long.

I didn’t waste time wiping or flushing. I jumped in the shower. I remembered a time when there wasn’t mold and mildew growing in the shower. It was in that other lifetime of mine.

I never used wash rags. I just scrubbed with the cracked bar of soap, making sure to give my love nub a good scrubbing. I used the same soap to wash my hair. I grabbed a stiff towel off the floor and dried myself with it. Long ago, I would’ve used a fresh towel. It would’ve smelled clean and been soft on my skin. That was so long ago, I could barely remember what it had smelled and felt like. I didn’t care about those things anymore. I didn’t care about anything anymore.

I wiped some of the dust off the mirror to better see my reflection. I turned my face left and right, inspecting it. I could’ve stood to shave, but I didn’t feel like it. The only problem from not shaving would be the chafing of her neck and thighs. I didn’t figure she’d mind too much and I didn’t care at all. I slapped on some after-shave anyway. I rolled on what little deodorant I had left, not even picking the hairs off it. Who cared?

I sat on the edge of the bathtub and spread my legs. This was going to hurt. I used both hands, one on each side, and squeezed the boil on the inner thigh of my right leg. It hurt like hell, but it had to be done. I didn’t want to have to worry about it later.

When the boil popped open, I cussed more than a little. I grabbed the towel from the floor that I’d dried with and wiped the blood and pus on it, then threw the towel back on the floor. It felt better already.

I went to the bedroom to dress. As I walked past a full-length mirror in my bedroom, I noticed my boner. It surprised me. I hadn’t even been thinking of the broad. If I didn’t get her soon, I’d have to take matters into my own hands.

I admired myself in my reflection for a while. I couldn’t see anything about what I saw that she wouldn’t like. It was going to be a hell of a night.

I dressed in my bar clothes and went downstairs. I still had plenty of time before it was time to go next door. I went into the kitchen and rounded up some food. I was going to need my strength later. I hoped the can of vegetable soup I ate straight from the can would give me the strength I needed. If not, the three beers I washed it down with would.

I sat on the couch and watched TV, trying not to think of how close I was to getting the broad next door. I wondered if she was thinking about me as much as I was thinking about her. Had she showered? Did she shave down there? I was sure she did. She looked like the type.

Adjusting my jeans, I reminded myself to stop thinking about that. I had to save it.

I glanced at the clock. I still had a few hours. Time was going to drag by.

Maybe since I already had my bar clothes on, it wouldn’t hurt to go to the bar. But what if I got lucky? Would I still be able to do the broad? I glanced at my bulge and figured I probably could. But did I want to chance it? What if I was wrong? I’d hate to waste it on some other bimbo.

I didn’t need the bar. I had beer in the fridge. I fetched one and drank it. I went back for another, and guzzled it. I made another trip to the kitchen and grabbed two more. I had one of them down before I made it back to the couch. I made one last trip, grabbing only one beer this time. I stood at the fridge, door open, and gulped it down.

Belching loudly, I walked back to the living room and sat on the couch. I sighed and leaned my head back. I watched a cockroach crawl across the ceiling.

Maybe I’d take a little nap. After all, I was going to need my strength.

19 Jill

I lay on the couch in the fetal position. I wanted to catch Andy on his way to work. I still didn’t feel well at all. But I needed to talk to him.

I’d made his dinner and packed his lunch, as usual. I didn’t put as much effort into it as I usually did, though. I didn’t have the energy. His lunch was merely a sandwich, and his dinner was leftover meat loaf from yesterday. I knew he wouldn’t mind, as meat loaf was his favorite.

He’d fallen asleep before I made it home from the doctor. I didn’t want to wake him. I watched him sleeping for a few minutes, and I’d considered crawling into bed beside him and nestling myself into his warm arms. I had even taken a step toward the bed. I didn’t act on it, though. He needed his rest.

I made a mental note to tease him about cuddling with my pillow and went to the couch to sleep. I never slept during the day, but I was sick and drained of my strength. I would’ve slept in the guest bedroom, but I didn’t want to miss him on his way out.

I adjusted the cold, wet wash cloth on my forehead and tried to find sleep.

20 Owen

I woke at dusk. My internal clock was completely out of whack. I was confused as to what time it was, or even what day. Then, I remembered chasing Jenson with Andy earlier.

I also remembered Carla.

I rushed to shower and dress, not wanting to keep her waiting. Or me, for that matter. I couldn’t wait to see her. It felt like it had been forever, though I’d just been at her house last night.

I thought about grabbing a bite to eat, but I figured she’d have dinner waiting. Of course, if they had already eaten, I’d get pretty hungry.

I grabbed a granola bar and gobbled it down, followed by a glass of milk. That would hold me if I needed it to, and it wouldn’t make me full if she’d made dinner. That was middle-of-the-road food. I was covered either way.

I locked the door behind me and headed to Carla’s in the dark.

On the way, I thought about how I was going to get my sleep back on schedule. I was fully rested now, and I’d never be able to sleep tonight. I guessed I’d probably be up when Andy got home in the morning and we’d go to bed at the same time. This meant that I’d sleep all day and be up all night tomorrow night too. This had to stop now before it went on so long it was impossible to fix. I marveled at Andy’s ability to work swing shift. I don’t know how he did it.

I walked past Bernie’s house slowly. There was a flicker through the window, which was unmistakable. He was watching television. It was odd for Bernie to be home and not at the bar.

I saw his shadow fall across the curtains. He was in there, all right. Maybe he was sick. It would serve him right for scaring the hell out of Carla like that.

I realized my fists were clenched as I thought of him. I forced them to relax, and I kept walking, putting Bernie as far out of my mind as I could. I didn’t want to think about him now. All I wanted to think about was Carla.

Oscar was lying on her porch, as if he belonged to her. He was probably happier at her house than any other on the street. She had kids. What dog didn’t like kids? I patted his head and scratched behind his ears, offering him a few ‘good boys’.

I rang the bell and the door was immediately jerked open. It was almost as if ringing the bell opened the door.

Carla was excited to see me, I could tell. It was in her eyes, in her smile, and in the way she looked at me. The look on her face matched how I felt. It wasn’t a big surprise when she bounced forward and threw her arms up around my neck. Without hesitation, I put my arms around her waist and hugged her tightly. It felt right, like that’s what we were supposed to do.

It had been so long since I’d hugged anyone. I’d hugged Holly. Once she was gone, Jill had hugged me a few times, and even Andy had given me one or two hugs. But those were sympathy hugs, and they didn’t count.

Though it only lasted a few seconds, the way Carla hugged me told me several things. First, it let me know she wanted the hug, because she initiated it. Then, it told me she felt safe enough and comfortable enough with me to be this close. Next, it allowed me to see that she was as eager for me to be here as I was. I didn’t have to feel like I was pushing myself on her by coming over any more. I knew now that she wanted me here. No more worrying that I was acting like Bernie. She wanted me.

I loved the way it felt to have her in my arms, pulled against me where I could protect her and keep her safe. I closed my eyes, memorizing the softness of her skin and the smell of her hair.

She closed the door behind me and led me into the dining room. She apologized for the kids having already eaten. They had been too hungry to wait for me, but she’d waited. We sat at the table and ate, mostly in silence. She kept smiling at me and that more than made up for the lack of conversation. It did puzzle me that she wasn’t saying much, but when I looked at her, I saw she was deep in thought. I matched her silence, not wanting to disturb her.

When we were finished with the pork chops and had the dishwasher loaded, she took my hand in hers and led me into the living room where Ethan and Shelby were sitting on the floor playing a board game. We sat on the couch, watching.

It would be a lie to say I didn’t like the way her hand felt, still nestled in mine, or the way her skirt pulled up just enough to show more of her thigh, or better yet, the way the heat of her thigh felt against mine. Even through my jeans, her warmth was unavoidable. I couldn’t ignore it. But I had to try. The kids were only a few feet from us.

After an hour or so, the kids reminded Carla of her promise to let them watch a movie. She made them each a bowl of popcorn and a pallet on the floor. She and I remained on the couch. The movie started and the kids’ attention turned completely to the screen.

Carla reclaimed her place beside me on the couch. I could feel her eyes on me throughout most of the animated film, but I didn’t mind. The kids fell asleep during the movie, but we left them where they were until it was over. Then, I carried them upstairs, one at a time. Carla tucked them in and kissed them goodnight. I waited in the doorway, watching her be a mother.

When she finished, we went down to the kitchen where she poured us each a glass of wine. I could feel her eyes following my every move. We drank the first glass of wine in the kitchen, and the second in the living room, sitting on the couch.

“It’s getting pretty late. I better let you get to bed,” I said, standing and walking to the door.

She followed me. “Owen, you don’t have to go.”

I turned to her, my hand on the door knob. I was going to tell her that she needed her rest and I didn’t want to keep her up and I didn’t want to overstay my welcome and she’d been more than nice enough...but I didn’t say anything. Before I had a chance to speak, she planted her lips firmly against mine. She held my face in place with a hand on each cheek, as if she was afraid I’d pull away.

Surprising me even further was the way she was kissing me. It wasn’t just a peck. She parted her lips and filled my mouth with her tongue. Although I was taken aback by her boldness, I didn’t hesitate to respond appropriately. I kissed her just as passionately, if not more so, than she kissed me.

We stood there for a while, kissing each other intensely. I didn’t want to stop. Ever. I could tell she felt the same way. It was more than the way she was kissing me. It was the fact that she’d wanted to kiss me so badly, she’d put herself out there and made the first move. It was the way she wound her fists in my hair and pulled slightly, just enough to drive me wild. It was also the way she pressed herself to me tighter, as if no matter how close we were together, it wasn’t close enough.

I loved the way she felt against me, her breasts firm against my chest. The smell of her was more than intoxicating. These things combined put me over the edge. There was no hiding my excitement from her now. I knew she felt it. In fact, I knew the exact moment she felt it. She stopped kissing me and smiled.

Then, she took my hand in hers and led me upstairs to her bedroom.

21 Bernie

I couldn’t pace fast enough to work off the anger that coursed through my veins. I needed to do something more than walk the floor. I looked around, frantic for something, anything to release this anger. I picked up the end table that sat beside the couch and hurled it across the room, beer bottles and all. It slammed against the wall, breaking the top and knocking off a leg. Who cared?