Kevin picked up his beer and headed over. “On my way.”
Before exiting I took a detour to the men’s room. I’d barely touched my beer but my bladder was full from the bottle of water I’d swallowed before heading down here.
I was washing my hands off in the sink when I thought I heard a shout. I turned the water off and listened. There, unmistakable beneath the bar music and the brash voices of its customers, was the sound of a man’s voice shouting in anger. It was coming from the other side of the wall and I could pick out a few words.
“Fucking told you (mumble) fucking pay (mumble).”
The responding voice was smaller, higher pitched. A female. “Sorry. I thought I ordered more.”
“It was your damn job!”
“I’m sorry!”
“Bitch.”
There was the sound of a thump followed by a sharp cry and I’d heard enough. I barreled out of the bathroom and through the nearest door, where I found the waitress from earlier sobbing into her hands while a red-faced Travis Hanson loomed over her with his neck veins bulging.
And even though I knew it was Travis, for a blurred second of blind rage I didn’t see him. I saw the man I always saw in my waking nightmares, the man who wasn’t satisfied just to rid the world of his own life so he had to take more. I saw my mother’s husband.
I didn’t think. I lunged. Travis’s face had time to register a look of surprise before I grabbed him by the throat and shoved him into a nearby wall hard enough to crack the surface.
“The fuck,” he sputtered and the girl screamed.
I was ready to do more, to pound him fucking bloody but suddenly there were arms around my waist, yanking me backwards while voices exclaimed in the background.
“Nash, cut it out!” Kevin yelled and that made me stop trying to rip free.
Travis, meanwhile, had recovered from his collision with the wall and was about to charge. The waitress bravely put herself in the middle, casting horrified glances my way and then back at Travis.
“Please stop,” she said and she wasn’t just talking to her boyfriend. She was addressing both of us.
Kevin hadn’t let go of me yet. “You calm the fuck down.”
I was bigger, stronger, and could have easily shaken him off but I didn’t. I nodded and Kevin released his grip.
“What’s this about?” Kevin asked in a commanding voice, a voice that was used to getting his questions answered.
I looked behind me and saw a few curious faces peering in the doorway. Kevin noticed them too and waved them away.
Travis glared. “My employee screwed up. I got a little loud about it, that’s all. And then this bozo comes charging in here like he’s on a fucking roid rage and starts smashing up the place.”
“You’re still a lying sack of shit, Hanson,” I spat.
“Enough!” Kevin turned to the girl and his voice became kinder. “What really happened, Alyssa?”
Alyssa touched her reddening cheek, most likely the place where Travis had smacked her. She avoided my eye and glanced at Travis. “I forgot to place an order for the whiskey,” she said. She swallowed. “Travis was right to be pissed and sometimes he yells.”
“Is that all?” Kevin prodded.
“Yeah.”
“He hit you,” I said.
She shook her head but still wouldn’t look at me directly. “No.”
“The only one acting like a psycho around here is you,” Travis growled. “Now get the fuck out before I decide to be unforgiving and press charges.”
Alyssa’s eyes met mine and then quickly shifted. She might be frightened. Or she might have a bad habit of making excuses for a guy who’d fooled her into thinking he cared. Either way I couldn’t be angry with her for lying.
Kevin snapped his fingers and exited the room. “Let’s go, Nash.” His tone indicated there was no room for argument.
Travis smirked. Alyssa looked at the floor.
I was about to give up and follow Kevin out when I changed my mind and approached Alyssa.
“This is what he does,” I told her in a quiet voice. “His type doesn’t stop.”
“Get the fuck out now!” Travis shouted.
I might have been happy to take him on again if Kevin hadn’t returned and bodily shoved me out the door, down a dark hallway and out a back door that led to an alley behind Sheen’s.
“All right,” I grumbled, breaking free of his grip.
“What the fuck was that, Nash? Revisiting old rivalries?”
I faced him. “He hit that girl.”
“That’s not what she said.”
“But it’s true.”
“Did you see it happen?”
“No,” I admitted, “but it sure sounded like he belted her pretty hard.”
Kevin exhaled noisily. “So this is still what you do? Swing first, think later?”
“I couldn’t do nothing, Kevin.”
“No, you never can.”
I started to walk away in the direction of the street where I’d parked.
“Nash!”
I kept walking. “I’ve got to go pick up Colin.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”
I spun around. “Are you fucking kidding? You make excuses for Travis the Prick but you’ve decided I’m dangerous?”
Kevin held up a hand. “I think you should go home and cool off.”
“I’m cool.”
He looked down. “Your fists are clenched.”
I did look down. So fucking what if they were clenched? I relaxed them.
Kevin sighed. “Nash, it’s late and you’re not in a good frame of mind. Why don’t you just leave the baby with my mom tonight and start over tomorrow?”
I paused. Colin had to be asleep already. Maybe it was in his best interest to let him be for the night instead of jarring him out of a sound sleep.
“Fine,” I said, rather stonily.
“Good.” Kevin nodded. “I’ll text my mom and let her know.”
“Thanks.”
Kevin regarded me silently in the darkness. A sports car sped down Garner Avenue and some teenager whooped loudly out the window.
“What the hell got into you back there anyway?” he wanted to know. “I thought you’d fucking grown up a little.”
I had no answer for that. The words wouldn’t have stung so much if they’d come from a man I respected less. I left him standing there, found my truck and left the small world of downtown Hawk Valley behind. I got all the way home before realizing I was too keyed up to enter an empty house and stare at my balls all night. Instead of cutting the engine I pulled away from the curb.
The duplex where Kathleen lived wasn’t very far. I cut the headlights when I was still a few houses away and set the truck in park. There was a light on in Kathleen’s front room. The clock was closing in on ten p.m., not a polite time to knock on anyone’s door, let alone one where a little kid lived. But I remembered Kathleen saying she was a night owl so I pulled out my phone and was about to shoot her a text when I saw movement behind the kitchen curtain.
I pocketed the phone and jumped out of the truck, approaching the door and getting a sense of déjà vu. The one and only time I’d been to Kathleen’s place was the night I arrived in Hawk Valley, when I was still numbed by a new and terrible loss.
I rapped on the door softly in case her kid was sleeping. The second I did it I realized showing up this time of night might be taken the wrong way. I hadn’t come here for some drunken late night booty call. I just wanted someone to talk to.