Page 52 of Decoded
“Did she say she slept with him? No. This deranged guy with a hard-on came into your office and started making wild accusations about the woman you say you fucking love. And you’re choosing to believe him before talking to her and setting the record straight. And that is what makes you a fucking idiot.” Lincoln kicks at my cell and my fists tighten, apparently not finished throwing a few punches.
“Guys, you’re gonna make Officer Guthrie come over here and if I have to listen to him give you a speech about what will and will not go down in his cells, I’m going to strangle the both of you and then we’ll all be on that side of the bars.” I look over at my usually passive brother, but Cam appears to be on edge.
“Sorry, Cam. Tell it to me straight, how much shit am I in?”
He lets out a heavy sigh and shakes his head. “I don’t know, but things don’t look good right now, Keat. You struck him multiple times and witnesses say he never even raised a fist in your direction. I know you said he touched her, but if Anna doesn’t come forward and say that touch was unwanted or that there was a threat or something with it, then this could be a long ass road in front of us.”
My chest tightens at the thought that maybe I interrupted something she was wanting in the first place. “You really think she wanted him to touch her like that?”
“You really are a fucking idiot,” Cam mutters. “I think Anna loves you more than I’ve seen anybody love someone before. I think you did the right thing putting that guy on his ass. I think you need to talk with her and genuinely listen to what she has to say because there’s more to all of this than what we currently know.”
“Fisher, bail has been posted,” Officer Guthrie interrupts before I can take in what my brothers both have told me. What Anna has told me. She may love me, but I can’t help but wonder if there was once a time when she loved him, too.
“Time to gather your belongings and head home. And Keaton,” I look at Caden Guthrie, the man I played football with all through high school, as he twirls his wedding ring around his finger. “Stop being the idiot your brothers say you are and talk to your wife.”
I can’t fucking be here. Every surface of this house is covered in Anna’s scent. Every corner is haunted by a memory we made with one another. Her things are everywhere. The coffee cup she drank from this morning sits in the sink. Her clothes are hanging in my closet. I want to believe she loves me and only me, but every time I close my eyes, all I can see is that jackass on top of her.
Fed up with the pacing I haven’t been able to stop since I got home, I decide the best way to get rid of the thoughts that won’t let up for even a second, is to numb them with alcohol.
“Let’s go to Kalli’s,” I holler at my brothers who are busy watching the Cats play on tv.
“The game is on,” Lincoln states.
“And it will be on at Kalli’s.”
“Maybe a drink isn’t the best idea,” Camden suggests.
“I don’t plan on a drink.”I plan on about fifty.
“Can you just fucking man up and call her already? Talk to Anna and find out what’s going on. You sitting here worried about something that may or may not have happened isn’t doing anybody any good.”
It doesn’t take much for Lincoln to get on my nerves, but today he is being an exceptional pain in my ass. I don’t need a fucking therapist right now. I need my brother. And some bourbon.
“Listen Linc, I’m about tired of your shit. I’m not in the right headspace to talk to her right now. The thought of that asshole with his hands on her has fucking ripped my heart out of my chest. I want to go to the bar with my brothers and get out of this house where the only thing I can see no matter where I turn, is her. I don’t want to talk about her. I don’t want to think about her. And I sure as hell don’t want to feel anything about her. Now are you coming with me or not?”
Begrudgingly, they stand up and we head out to Lincoln’s Bronco and off to drink my problems away.
“Thought you weren’t going to have a drink,” I hear Lincoln mutter, “you’ve had like fifty.”
I can’t help but smile happily for the first time since this morning. “It makes me feel good. I felt bad. I don’t want to feel bad. Good beer makes for a good mood.”
“That’s bourbon you fucking idiot,” Lincoln says, but even his bad mood can’t bring me down after the several drinks I’ve consumed.
“Same thing.”
“It really fucking isn’t.”
“I like the way it looks when you hold the glass up in the light. It’s so pretty. Like her. She’s so pretty.” I take a sip and then look back over at my brother, my good mood slipping a little. “Why does she have to be so pretty? Have you seen her? So. Fucking. Pretty.”
“Thought you didn’t want to talk about her?” Lincoln drawls, taking a drag of his beer.
“I’m not talking about nobody. I didn’t say who I was talking about.” I lean in and whisper to him, “But in case you were wondering, I’m definitely talking about Anna.”
The motherfucker rolls his eyes at me, and I whine at him, “Don’t do that.”
“It’d be a helluva lot easier to stop if you could stop doing and saying stupid shit. You ready to go home?”
I shake my head. “Can’t go home. Nope. Can’t be there.”
