Page 44 of Heartless

Shepherd spits his beer out and leans forward, choking.

I pull my hand over my face and look back up into his red one. He coughs several times before he says, “You mind running that by me again?”

“I don’t care to.”

Shaking his head, he asks, “What the fuck happened?”

I tell him everything that I know and bring him up to speed all the way to our latest argument.

“Fuck! That explains it. Mak’s been saying that Meadow keeps rescheduling their brunches and that, lately, she hasn’t been responding to her calls or texts that much. She’s been thinking that maybe she’s been super busy with her studio, but she said it wasn’t like her to at least not text. Then she’d started wondering if she’d done something to offend her,” Shep explains.

“Nothing like that. I’m sorry, and please...I know you’ll tell Mak, but ask her to keep it between you and her. MJ would kill me if she knew I’d told you.”

“Say no more. Have they caught the bastard?”

“No.”

“So, what’re you gonna do?”

“I was out driving around asking myself the same thing. I have no idea what to do. She’s pushed me away, and shit, I don’t know. If I find him, I swear I’ll murder him with my bare hands.”

He snickers and then says, “Sorry. I can’t imagine ‘Pretty-Boy,’ kicking ass.”

“When it comes to Meadow, I’ll do anything.”

He nods. “I can believe that. You and Kostas are one and the same when it comes to your wives,” he says of our Greek cousin.

“As we should be. I’m sure you’re the same.”

“Protective but not insanely so. Mak’s capable of kicking my ass.”

I laugh, knowing that’s true.

I take a swig of my beer, and he turns the TV on to a boxing match.

“I want her to get a new studio in a safer neighborhood, but she doesn’t want to. We’ve got to move because I think we need a fresh start altogether. That house is heavy with her depressive spirit,” I say after a couple of rounds.

“Where?”

“Out of the neighborhood. I think that’s the only way we’ll start healing.”

His bushy eyebrows go down, and he nods his head. “I can see that if it happened close to home. Home doesn’t feel like home anymore. It’s no longer a haven. While your neighborhood is safe, her studio is only a few blocks away in a relatively unsafe neighborhood.”

We watch the rest of the match in silence except for the occasional jeer at the referee or tip to one boxer or another.

When it finishes, Shep says, “You know where the guest room is at.”

“Thanks, man, but I’ll be heading home. I can’t leave her there alone overnight. She may not feel safe being home alone.”

“All right. Just come through any time you need to,” he says, giving me a fist bump.

“Thanks, man. And if you don’t mind—”

“Hey, I don’t like our family enough to share shit with them.”

We both laugh, and I admit, “I know that’s the truth.”

I check my phone that I left in the car all night, even when I was at3rdLevel.I turned it off and put it in the glove compartment.

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