Текст книги "The Good Neighbor"

Автор книги: Kimberley A. Bettes

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 13 страниц)

She hadn’t wanted me to stay with her tonight, which was killing me. I didn’t take it personally. Her reasoning made perfect sense. For her. Not for me. For me, I needed to hold her and have her in my line of sight so I could know without a doubt that she was safe from the likes of Bernie.

So to give us both what we needed, I left her alone and kept watch over her from my porch. She had no idea I was doing this, but it was the only way to give us both what we needed.

In keeping watch over Carla, I was also watching out for Jill. With Andy away, she was alone. Bernie would surely know that he had no chance of getting at Carla again. Knowing that, he might just turn his sights on Jill. Especially if he’d been watching as Andy left with a suitcase. I really didn’t think Bernie was as ignorant as I’d first thought him to be. It appeared that he paid far more attention to things going on around him than I’d originally thought. I would never again make a mistake in assuming Bernie to be anything other than dangerous.

I hated to take my eyes off of Bernie’s house for even a second. But I felt I should walk around Carla’s house, just to be positive he hadn’t broken in through the back. If he’d left by his back door and crossed over to Carla’s back door, I’d never see him. To think that I may have sat on my porch while he sneaked into her house...that thought brought me out of my chair and led me across the street.

I walked all the way around Carla’s house, all the while contemplating walking around Bernie’s. I decided it wasn’t a good idea. I saw no signs of life over there, and didn’t want to invite trouble by sneaking around his house.

On the sidewalk in front of Carla’s house, I took one last glance at Bernie’s before crossing the street.

I noticed a light on in Hazel’s house. Glancing at my watch, I saw it was midnight. I thought that was a little too late for her to still be awake. A shudder went through my body as I wondered whether Bernie would rape an eighty year old woman.

I ran up the steps and hesitated briefly before ringing the doorbell. I kept my hand on the knob, counting the seconds as they passed. If I got to three, I was going in anyway. With a rapist on the loose, I couldn’t take the chance of not checking on her.

Just as I said ‘three’ in my head, the knob turned in my palm.

Hazel stood before me, all four feet seven inches of her. She was white-haired with glasses. She had a small body, but a big heart.

Stepping aside, she said, “Come in, Owen.”

I walked into the living room. It was a warm room, lit by two lamps. On the backs and arms of the furniture were doilies made by Hazel’s own hands. Next to the chair in which she always sat, was a ball of yarn and a crochet needle.

“Have a seat. Are you hungry? I’ve got some meat loaf and mashed potatoes and green beans I could heat up for you.” She followed me into the room.

“No, thanks. I’m not hungry.” I watched as she sat in her chair. It had been her husband’s, where he always sat watching television. After he died, she took over the chair. She never watched television, though. She sat in that chair day after day, sewing.

“What are you doing out so late?” she asked. I noticed her wince as she sat.

“I was checking on some stuff and I noticed a light on in your house. I thought I better check on you. Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine.” Just like Hazel to say everything was fine.

“Now Hazel, don’t fib to me. I saw you wince a second ago.”

She laughed. “Well, my shoulder has been hurting all day. For days, really. I can’t sleep when it hurts this bad. You sure you’re not hungry?”

I laughed now. I’d always liked Hazel. She was the sweetest person I’d ever met.

I stayed with her for quite a while. I ended up having to tell her about Bernie raping Carla. She wanted to know what I’d been checking on at this hour, and I didn’t like keeping things from her, so I told her everything.

Amazingly, she wasn’t surprised.

“This doesn’t surprise you what Bernie did?”

“No. I knew something would happen with him. It’s been a long time coming.”

I couldn’t help but ask, “What do you mean?”

“Bernie hasn’t always been like he is now. He had a great job. He was some sort of executive at a big company or something. He used to wear a suit and tie, if you can believe that.” She laughed and picked up her crochet needle and yarn. She sewed five times faster than she talked. “He worked all the time. He’d leave first thing in the morning and wouldn’t come home until late in the day, and sometimes it was well after dark before I’d see him pull in. I think that’s why his wife took their daughter and left him.”

“Bernie was married?” I couldn’t believe it.

“Oh, yeah. She was a nice woman. Marie was her name. She was pretty, too pretty for Bernie, I thought. She used to come over and visit with me while Bernie was at work.”

“So she didn’t work?”

“No, no. She didn’t have to. Bernie made a lot of money. It was the only good thing to come from him working so much. Marie hated that he was always gone. Used to sit right there where you’re sitting now and cry about it. I’d tell her there wasn’t any sense in crying. That wouldn’t change anything.”

I was still reeling from the fact that someone – someone normal – had been in love with and married to Bernie. I couldn’t imagine him any way other than the way he was now. Nasty. Drunk.

“And they had a daughter?”

“Yes. She looked just like her mother. And she was a well-mannered child. Those are hard to come by these days. She would come over here with Marie. She sat at the table and colored or brought her dolls and played in the floor over there while we talked. I even started teaching her to crochet, but they left before I could teach her much.”

“They left? Where’d they go?”

Still crocheting, Hazel started to shrug her shoulders, but stopped quickly with a wince. “I sure don’t know. I saw her load some luggage into her car and drive away, but I had no idea that she’d never be back. I thought maybe she was going to visit somebody but I never saw her or the little girl again.”

“What was the little girl’s name?” I don’t know why I even cared, but I wanted to know.

“Cassie.”

Still fumbling over the fact that Bernie had a family, I asked, “What did Bernie do then?”

“Oh, he went downhill from there. And it might’ve not all been because Marie left him. There were a lot of things going on in his life at that time. His father died. He had to put his mother into a home, and then had to fight with the home because they were mistreating her. There was a cancer scare with Marie at one point. She didn’t have it, but the doctors thought she did. And then, he came home one night to find his wife and daughter gone. I think she left a note, but I never got to read it.”

I watched Hazel’s little fingers work their magic on the yarn. Hard to believe her slightly crooked fingers with the large knuckles could be so fast and agile.

“You sure you’re not hungry?”

I smiled. “Would you quit trying to feed me? I’m fine. I worry about you, though. I wish you didn’t hurt.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. It’s part of it. I’m eighty years old. I think I’d worry if I didn’t hurt.” She laughed.

“I better get back home. I shouldn’t have stayed this long.” I was suddenly terrified that Bernie had crept into Carla’s while I was here.

“Owen, don’t worry,” Hazel said, reading the look on my face. “We would’ve heard the alarm.”

She was right. I’d forgotten about the alarm for a second. Or I didn’t trust it on a subconscious level. That was the most likely explanation.

“I know, but I’d feel better if I could see what was happening.”

She put down her yarn and stood with me, though it took her far more effort than it did me. She walked with me to the door.

“If you need anything, you let me know. Don’t hesitate,” I told her as she hugged me. I meant it. I hoped she knew I meant it, and wasn’t just being polite.

“Oh, I will, but I don’t see that there’s anything I’ll need. Same goes for you. And don’t worry yourself sick over all this. Everything happens for a reason. You can’t save everybody. And don’t do anything crazy. Let nature take its course.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. What was nature’s course? Who could say? What if it was nature’s course for me to go over there and slit his throat in the night? What if it was nature’s course for him to do the same to me? Or to Carla?

I returned to my porch where I kept watch over the residents of Hewitt Street.

56 Jill

I ate nothing more than a granola bar and a small glass of milk for breakfast. Still keeping it light, taking no chances.

I was dressed and ready for work. Well, that’s not entirely true. I was dressed for work, but hardly ready. I didn’t feel like going. I was tired. More precisely, I was exhausted. But it would be nice to keep my mind off missing Andy.

I locked the door behind me and headed outside where it smelled like rain.

I was already in the car when I noticed Owen. He was on his porch, asleep in his chair. It looked radically uncomfortable. His neck was back and to the right at an angle that would be sure to leave him with a crick.

I got back out of my car and walked over to him. I hated to wake him. I knew he hadn’t been sleeping well, but I couldn’t leave him out here like this.

I touched his arm. “Owen. Owen. Wake up.” After gently shaking him a little, his eyes opened slowly. I waited for him to focus and realize what was happening. “You need to go inside and go to bed.”

He sat up and rubbed his neck. I stood up and waited for him to go inside.

“I’ll be okay out here.” He yawned.

“Owen, go inside and go to bed. You can’t stay out here like that. It’s not comfortable. But you know what is? Your bed.” I sang the last part to make it sound more appealing to him. All it did was make him laugh.

“I’m okay.”

“Look, I’m not leaving until you’re in bed. Now do you want to make me late for work or what?”

“You know I can just wait until you’re gone and come right back out here.”

“Yeah. Since you know that, why are you still sitting here arguing with me? Get up and get in there.”

He laughed harder at me now, but he got up. He looked at Bernie’s, then at Carla’s, and then he went in the house. I followed him all the way upstairs.

“Really?” he asked, referring to my following him.

“Yes. Now take off the shoes and whatever else and get in the bed.”

“What if I need to pee?” he asked with a smile.

“Then we’ll go to the bathroom,” I said without one.

He chuckled. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“Yeah. You should see me buy a car.” I watched as he took off his shoes and shirt, but I looked away as he unfastened his jeans and slithered out of them.

When I sensed he was in bed, I looked back. “Now isn’t that better than a chair on the porch?”

He nodded. “Thanks.” He yawned and folded his arms behind his head. “But I’ve got to get to Carla’s.”

“No, you don’t. She’ll be fine for the day. You don’t think he’d do anything in the middle of the day, do you? Besides, she has an alarm. She’s locked in a virtual fort over there.”

He didn’t look totally convinced.

I thought for a moment. Assessing the situation, I knew what I was going to do. I think I’d known when I’d gotten out of my car and walked onto Owen’s porch.

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll stay with her today while you sleep.”

“You can’t do that. You have to get to work.”

“I won’t go today.”

“What?” he asked, not believing me. He had reason to be suspicious. I very rarely missed work. “You won’t miss work.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, just for that, I’m not going tomorrow, either.”

“Whatever!” he exclaimed.

“See, now I’m taking off the rest of the week.”

He threw his head up and laughed loudly. “You’re killing me.”

“Alright. That’s it. I’ll never work again. Satisfied?”

He stopped laughing. He stared at me with sleepy eyes, a worried expression on his face. “Are you serious?”

I shrugged. “Yeah. You just kept pushing me.” I smiled at him and changed my tone to one more serious. “I didn’t feel like going in today anyway. This just gave me a reason not to. Then I realized I may not go back.”

“What? You like your job.”

“I know. But there’s so much going on. I haven’t made my decision final yet, but I’m thinking about it. You go to sleep now. I’ll go sit with Carla today. Don’t worry about anything. You need to rest.”

He yawned again and I left him to sleep.

I would tell him later that I wasn’t kidding about not going back to work. With all that was happening and changing, I felt my time would be better spent at home. I wouldn’t tell him that now because I wasn’t telling anyone anything until I’d talked to Andy.

57 Bernie

I lay on my back with my head hung off the bed and stared at the room from this upside-down angle. I was frustrated. In every possible way.

I’d been jacking off almost constantly. Not because I wanted to so much as I had to. No sooner did I get rid of one boner than another one popped up. My arm was tired. My dick was sore. My balls ached. My ass itched. I stunk. The bed stunk and was covered in my dried cum. But who cares?

I sighed heavily. I knew without looking or feeling that my dick was hard. I didn’t understand why. I didn’t know it was possible to have a boner for so long.

I blamed the whore next door. My dick had been hard since the moment she moved in. I’d thought that screwing her would’ve fixed the problem, but it seemed to only have made it worse. Now, all I could do was think about what it had been like to do her and how nice it would be to do her again.

Damn.

I got up and walked to the bathroom, kicking dirty clothes out of my way as I went. The bathroom stunk more than I did. I kept forgetting to flush the toilet. It didn’t matter. I was getting ready to add to it.

I sat down and started dropping my smelly load.

Unable to stand it any longer, I picked up one of the porn magazines I kept on the floor. I thumbed through the pages, but each broad had the same face. It was the face of the whore next door. I threw it down and picked up another one, but it was the same thing.

I wanted to scream, but it wouldn’t help.

I turned to the fold-out picture in the center of the magazine and laid it on the floor between my feet. I spread my legs far enough apart to see it clearly and began pounding my flesh, once again.

It was growing increasingly difficult to get rid of a hard-on. I had to use more force and it was taking much longer. By the time I was finished, I was sweating and breathing hard.

I leaned down and picked up a towel from the floor and wiped the gunk off my hand, wondering how it was even possible to still have gunk left in me. I threw the towel back to the floor and finished dropping my load.

I remembered to flush this time. I had to flush twice since the toilet was so full, but finally it sat empty.

I needed a shower. I really didn’t care about anything anymore, especially hygiene, but I was tired of smelling myself. It was a horrible combination of sweat, ass, feet, and of course cum. I wondered if part of the reason I always had a boner was because I always smelled sex. Maybe if I washed away that smell, it would solve my problem. I doubted it, but maybe.

As I stepped into the shower, I remembered what it used to be like. Back when the shower was clean, the towels were fresh, and I had soap and shampoo. It seemed like such a long time ago, another lifetime.

I didn’t want that life any more. That life had left me. I used to want it back. But I was a different person then. In the time since, I’d become someone else, someone entirely different. I’d felt myself changing, but had been unable – and unwilling – to stop myself from becoming what I was now. Someone who didn’t give a rat’s ass whether the shower was clean, whether I had soap or clean towels, or whether I was clean. It just didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore.

I used the same cracked bar of soap to wash my body and my hair. I used no wash cloth. In the old life, I wouldn’t have even thought of showering without one. Now, who cared?

When I ran the soap over my dick, I noticed it was already half-hard again. I dropped my hand to my side and threw my head back and closed my eyes. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to cut the damn thing off. After all, it’s part of the reason I didn’t have the old life anymore.

I didn’t know what to do about it. Jacking off wasn’t working. Screwing that broad hadn’t worked. What else was there?

My eyes snapped open as a few thoughts came to me at once. There were other ways. I didn’t necessarily like all of them, but there were other ways to get off. There was pedophilia, necrophilia, bestiality, and homosexuality for starters. I really didn’t fancy screwing dead people or animals. At this point, though, I’d just about try anything. My dick was raw. It was sore and throbbing. Each hard-on hurt more than the one before it. I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could stand. I had to try something.

With butterflies in my stomach, I finished the shower. For the first time in a couple of weeks, my thoughts raced around something other than the broad next door.

I stood in front of the mirror naked. I took a good look at myself and hated what I saw.

Gone was my former self completely now. There was no sign of the man I’d been. Dark, puffy bags hung under my eyes. Lines flew out from the corners of my eyes and around my mouth. The skin under my chin hung down farther than it used to. It had been years since I’d been clean-shaven. It seemed even after I shaved these days, I always had rough stubble. My skin had a yellowish hue to it. And of course, there was the belly. I’d been fit in my old life. No gut hanging over my pants. But it was there now. And there was no one to care about it. I certainly didn’t.

I noticed the hair growing from my nostrils and from my ears. Anyone else would’ve kept those hedges trimmed back, but not me.

As I stared at myself in that dirty mirror, standing in my nasty bathroom upstairs in my filthy house, I realized it was too late. No matter what, it was too late to ever again be the man I was before. I couldn’t go back. This was me now. Gone was the workaholic, the family man. Gone were the days of caring about the nice house, the newest car, and the best clothes. Now that I thought about, I couldn’t even remember that Bernie. The man who got up at four, jogged, went to work, skipped lunch, came home sometimes sixteen hours later, and went to bed only to do it all again the next day. That man seemed to be just someone I had once known, but never me. I would never again be that man.

And who cared?

No one.

I went downstairs, still naked. I grabbed a beer from the fridge and stood by the table drinking it. I didn’t guzzle it as I usually did. I drank it slowly, thinking about how to get rid of this boner.

I finally decided that instead of rushing into something crazy like screwing guys or dead people, I’d try one more time with a broad. If it didn’t work this time, it never would. Then, I’d have to move on to one of the other choices. I wasn’t looking forward to doing that, but I couldn’t go on like this.

I finished the beer and looked down at my dick, which was now fully hard. I couldn’t imagine sticking it in a man. The thought had never appealed to me in my life. I didn’t find that men turned me on. And dead people, well, that was just gross. I liked the way Carla had been afraid. I liked the fear in her eyes. I liked the way she acted like she hated it. I liked the way her muscles tensed under me. And I loved the warmth of her. Dead people couldn’t offer any of these things.

I shook it off. I wouldn’t think of the alternatives until I knew whether or not I had to. I had to think about now, and that meant doing a broad one more time. Just to see if it would rid me of this pesky hard-on. It was driving me insane. I wouldn’t be able to take it much longer. I had to get rid of it. I had to do a bitch and quick.

58 Carla

When a crew of men showed up, I was curious. When they began unloading tools and lumber, I was a little worried.

I went outside to ask them what they were doing, but before I could ask, someone told me. He was a large, deeply tanned man with hair as black as coal. His dark tan made his teeth seem whiter than they were.

He informed me that they worked for Owen’s company. At Owen’s request, they were here to build a fence to separate my yard from Bernie’s. I knew he was doing it to protect me, but it was still a little frustrating. He hadn’t asked me. I reminded myself that he was doing it because he cared. He wanted me safe. Not because he was controlling. He wasn’t my ex-husband.

I decided to take the kids down to Owen’s house since I hadn’t heard from him yet today and things were pretty loud at my house. Erecting an eight-foot fence wasn’t as quiet a job as one would think.

We crossed the street in front of our house so we wouldn’t have to walk in front of Bernie’s. As we stepped up on the sidewalk, I heard someone speak.

I looked up and saw a small woman waving to me. This must be Hazel. Owen had told me about her, but I hadn’t had a chance to meet her yet. She was sitting on the porch, sewing. I couldn’t hear everything she was saying, so I walked closer, taking the kids with me.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t hear you.”

“I said you must be Carla.”

“Oh. Yeah. That’s me. And this is Ethan and Shelby. Are you Hazel?”

“That’s me. Come up here and have a seat.” As we walked up the steps, she asked, “Are you hungry? I’ve got plenty of food in there.”

“No, no. Thanks, but we’re fine. What are you making?” I asked.

“Oh, I’m knitting a baby blanket today.”

“For who?”

“Well, for whoever needs it,” she said. “There’s always someone somewhere having a baby. Do you do any sewing?”

“No. I never knew anyone who could teach me. It looks fun.”

“Oh, it is. Keeps you busy. If you want, I’ll be more than happy to teach you.”

We talked a while longer, and I agreed to learn to sew. It would be nice to have a hobby. Maybe then, I wouldn’t think so much about things that had happened lately.

Hazel really was the sweetest woman I’d ever met. Owen had been right about that. She kept offering us food. She invited us into the house, where she brought out some toys for the kids to play with while we talked.

Her house was exactly what a grandmother’s house should be. It was cozy and felt very comfortable. Things she’d made were everywhere in the room. There was no loud TV noise, only the sound of a ticking clock and the clinking of her knitting needles. I could hear the sound of crayons scraping against paper. At my house, so much quiet might’ve been unnerving, but here, it was welcoming.

I watched in awe as the blanket quickly grew longer and longer. I couldn’t wait to learn.

“Could you teach me now?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t too eager or rude.

“Well, sure.” She grabbed a set of needles and a ball of yarn and sat beside me on the couch. She began teaching me right then. She was amazed at how quickly I was learning.

I sat there for hours with Hazel, talking and knitting without a care in the world.

59 Jill

I looked out the window for a little while, watching the fence go up at Carla’s. I’d been on my way over to her place when I saw her and the kids cross the street and go to Hazel’s. I didn’t want to disturb her visit, so I waited.

While I waited, I thought about my poor Andy. He’d called and told me that his mother had passed away. I wanted to be with him. He needed me. But I was here, without him.

I stretched out on the couch and closed my eyes. I imagined him crying, and it made my heart ache.

I knew what I was going to do. I was so aggravated and upset that I hadn’t had a chance to talk to him yet, but now it seemed as though it was meant to be.

The moment he came home, no matter what happened, I was going to tell Andy my news. No more obstacles. Nothing was going to stop me from telling him. Nothing or no one.

I lay there, wondering if Owen would mind that instead of me sitting with Carla, she was sitting with Hazel.

I fell asleep on the couch thinking of how Andy would react to what I had to tell him.

Of course, instead of having pleasant dreams of Andy while I napped, I had nightmares about Bernie.

60 Owen

“I think it looks good,” I said looking at the fence.

“It’s a behemoth!” Carla exclaimed. “You don’t think it’s too big?”

I laughed and wrapped my arms around her. “No. If it means that I feel better and that you’re safer, then it’s perfect. Besides, a lot of people have fences this tall.” I didn’t tell her that the main reason for the fence was so that I could know that while I watched her house from mine, Bernie couldn’t get to her without me seeing him. In fact, I hadn’t even told her about staking out her house. I didn’t want her worried or upset.

I ate dinner with Carla and the kids that evening. I’d slept through most of the day, which both bothered me and assured me. It bothered me because it cut into my time with Carla. But it assured me because now I was free to spend the night watching Bernie.

I helped Carla put the kids to bed. I watched from the doorway as she read to them. For the first time, I had thoughts about having a baby with her. And not just a baby, but a future.

I watched her kiss them each on the forehead and wondered if she would be with me forever.

When the kids were kissed and tucked, we went to Carla’s room. I didn’t expect anything to happen. I wasn’t going to push her in any way. I just wanted to hold her as much as she wanted me to hold her.

And I did. I held her in my arms until she fell asleep.

She knew I was going to leave once she was out. My sleep was still off schedule so I couldn’t sleep if I wanted to. What she didn’t know was that I was going to be sitting on my porch, keeping watch over her again.

I crept out of the house, making sure to set the alarm and lock the door behind me. With the key Carla had given me earlier, I could come and go as I pleased. I had given her a key to my house as well. We never knew when either of us might need to get through a locked door, and nothing made that easier to do than a key. I slipped into the night, leaving Carla in bed asleep.

Thunder boomed loudly, and I couldn’t deny that it scared the crap out of me. I wasn’t expecting it. It’s not like it had been thundering for a while. It was the first clap, sudden and loud, and seemingly right above me.

I quickly crossed the street. If it was going to rain, I wanted to be home before it started.

As I stepped up onto the sidewalk in front of Hazel’s house, I glanced in Bernie’s direction.

I nearly stopped in my tracks, but I somehow managed to keep walking, though it was barely more than slow motion. And I was unable to look away.

There on the porch, stood Bernie, staring at me.

Our eyes were locked, neither of us looking away. I kept walking, he kept standing there. He was at the top of the steps with one arm above his head, holding him up as he leaned against a pillar. He wore his scuffed cowboy boots and an untied dingy robe which flared open, revealing his naked body. Even from across the street, I could see his perverted excitement.

I saw all this in my peripheral vision, as I didn’t look away from his eyes.

Standing there, illuminated only by the streetlight, Bernie looked menacing. He was more than just a naked crazy man standing on his porch. He was a threat to everyone who lived on this street. I sensed something different about him. I wasn’t sure what it was. Something in his eyes, perhaps. Something in his stance, maybe. I didn’t know, but I sensed it. It made my skin crawl.

I was directly in front of his house now. A few more steps would cause me to break eye contact with him. I didn’t want to be the one who looked away, but to keep looking would mean either walking backward the rest of the way to my house, or turning my head all the way around. And this wasn’t a movie. That would be impossible.

Before I took the few steps that would cause me to look away, Bernie smiled at me.

I froze.

It wasn’t a regular smile. It was a gloat. The son of a bitch was gloating. That smile said to me ‘I do what I want and there’s nothing you or anyone else can do about it’.

I clenched my fists.

I wanted desperately to run across the street and rip that smile off his face and shove it up his ass. I wanted to snap his neck in my hands. I wanted to slit his throat and watch him bleed. I wanted to do every horrible thing I could think of to stop him from standing there smiling at me that way.

I swear that as I stood there thinking of the ways I’d love to make him suffer, that smile broadened.

My jaws hurt from being clenched so tightly. I felt like I was about to snap.

I paid no attention to the rain that fell on me now. It didn’t matter that it soaked my clothes and hair. All that mattered was that Bernie was standing there smiling at me with that wicked smile, all but begging me to kick his ass.

If he wasn’t careful, that’s exactly what was going to happen.

I kept staring at him through the pouring rain, not only unwilling to break the eye contact, but unable to. What could’ve only been half a minute passed, but it felt more like hours. I was going to have to move. There was no doubt about that. The question would be, would I bolt over to Bernie and knock that smile off his face, or would I go home and wait until Andy came back?

61 Bernie

That damn Owen looked so stupid standing there in the rain. I wanted to laugh out loud, but I fought it and won. I’d laugh later. For now, I just wanted to show him that he wasn’t shit to me.

I watched as he clenched his fists, and I thought briefly that he was going to come over here and take on ol’ Bernie Bear. But he didn’t. I was a little disappointed. Maybe that stab wound stopped him. A little reminder of the last time he messed with me.

I hated the fact that the longer he stood there, fists balled up at his sides, drenched from head to toe, the more I felt like I was the one being made to look a fool. I was starting to feel uncomfortable about the situation. He was every bit as creepy-looking as I was, standing there in the rain, hidden in the shadows between two streetlights.