And everyone knew there was no fucking way Colt would get near February.
She’d made her choice but Colt had dealt with it. He’d told her but she didn’t listen. It could have ended his career, could have landed him in prison but he’d done it, for Morrie, for Jack and Jackie and especially for February.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t forgive her for what she did. It was that he couldn’t trust her judgment. Because after he’d done what he’d done, she never let him back in, and that…
Well, that he couldn’t forgive her for.
And obviously, since she’d tried to hack it for awhile then given up then taken off for fifteen years then steered clear of him the last two, he figured it was because she couldn’t forgive herself.
No, his problem with Susie had nothing to do with February.
“This has nothing to do with Feb.”
“Everything with you is wound up in February.”
Colt wasn’t going to have this discussion. It was late, he’d started the day with Angie’s murder; having Feb in his arms for the first time in twenty-two years only to have her pull right out of them; spent some not-so-much fun time with Cory and his loud, screeching wife Bethany, who looked eighteen months pregnant rather than the six she was supposed to be, however she’d also given her husband an alibi even though Colt knew Cory didn’t have it in him to hack up Angie; and running up against bizarre dead end after dead end on a fresh case he had to crack because this town had never seen a murder as brutal as Angie Maroni’s and the whole fucking place was going to go berserk if word spread what happened to her.
Nope, he didn’t have it in him to spar with Susie.
“Just give me my key, Sooz.”
“I don’t know why you’re playing this game, Colt. You asked, she’d drop straight to her knees in front of that whole fucking bar and suck your dick.”
All right, maybe he had it in him to spar with Susie.
“Watch your fucking mouth.”
She tilted her head with her challenge. “Not wound up with February?”
She wanted it? He’d give it to her straight.
“Yeah, not wound up with February. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t prefer her mouth around my cock. That I don’t think of her when I’m fuckin’ you. That I wouldn’t mind comin’ home to her and sharing my day, because she’d share it and you never gave a shit. But, like I’ve said a million times before, it’s not gonna happen, I knew that a long time ago, so did Feb. It’s done.”
Her eyes went to slits while he spoke and she leaned in. “Don’t give me that shit. It’s never been done between you two.”
“We’ve had this discussion before.”
And they had even before Feb came back to town. Susie never let it go, just like he suspected his ex-wife Melanie never let it go.
Unlike Melanie, it was likely Susie never let it go because he’d said February’s name while he was fucking her the first time. But hell, he’d been drunk off his ass which was the only way he’d have gotten involved with Susie in the first place.
Still, she was good in bed and she kept coming back for more so in the beginning, who was he to argue?
The next thirty months he had no excuses, except for most of them they’d been on a break.
“You’re a fool,” she spat.
“Just give me my goddamned key.”
She walked to her purse which was on the kitchen counter. “You don’t get it from her you’ll come back to me.”
This, Colt thought, was doubtful. There wasn’t a lot of choice in their small town, not any which wasn’t already taken. Not that some of them didn’t get in his space more often than not; just that he wouldn’t fuck another man’s woman. Still, even the rare times Susie could be sweet, which was whenever he ended it and she came crawling back, it wasn’t worth this.
And it always ended like this even though she swore that it wouldn’t. It wasn’t always about Feb, but it was always ugly.
“You’re right,” he told her, wrapping his fist around his key which was dangling from her fingers, “I’ve been fool enough with you.” He looked her in the eyes. “That’s over.”
He saw her face bleach of color and she flinched. Whatever he sounded like she must have took his meaning because he could even see the blow he’d struck to Daddy’s Little Girl, who always got everything she wanted and who’d been working hard on getting him for three years and not succeeding. Instead, he’d been taking what he wanted from her and handing the rest back.
“She’s welcome to you,” Susie hissed, her eyes again slits, her pretty face gone bad.
She was full of shit. She’d call him the next day and apologize. She always did.
Colt wondered if he had time the next day to buy a new phone.
On that thought his phone rang and he turned away from Susie, put his beer on the counter, shoved his key into his front pocket and pulled his phone out of the back.
Susie was gone by the time he looked at the display, flipped it open and put it to his ear.
“Morrie.”
“Dude, get over here, right now.”
Colt’s blood turned to ice. Morrie sounded freaked.
“What?”
“I just opened the mail. Dude, just,” Morrie blew out a breath, “Colt, man, just get over here.”
“You at the bar?”
“Yep.”
“Feb there?”
“Yep.”
“She okay?”
“Far’s I know.”
“She see whatever you’re talkin’ about?”
“Nope.”
“I’ll be there in five.”
*
Colt walked into J&J’s.
It was late, it was a weeknight, but the place was packed.
Murder had a way of drawing people, Colt knew. Most everyone had that sick place in their head that was fascinated by violence. But he also knew this was more a show of support for Morrie and Feb and, in small part, Angie.
A town could get ripped apart by tragedy, people turning on each other.
But not his town.