Games of the Heart

I followed him.

The next five minutes I focused on calming down and staying out of the way. I had to take time out of doing this when Rees hesitantly joined the proceedings. Then she stood close to me, holding my hand and watched like me, No joining us. The boys were now all sitting on the couch, hands cuffed behind their backs. One of the officers had gone out to his car. I kept my eyes on Mike who still was holding his gun loosely, his eyes glued on the boys and I could tell he was beyond pissed. He was livid.

I was debating the merits of approaching Mike and gently taking his weapon from him because Mike’s couch was awesome, a big sectional, slouchy, comfy and bloodstains would probably fuck that up when the officer who did the perimeter search spoke and he did this to the boys on the couch.

“Saw it outside, shit’s fucked up,” he noted, his voice rumbly. He was pissed too. One of his brethren had been targeted and it was clear he didn’t like that much. Then he asked, “What fucked up shit broke in your heads that makes you think that’s okay?”

None of the boys spoke.

Mike did.

“I know you,” he said quietly, the quiet was a not a good quiet and I watched all three boys look to him. They were no longer looking belligerent. They had the attention of an angry Dad policeman holding a gun and now they were belatedly watchful. “I know you threw down with Fin. I know what you said to my girl. I know one of you tried to touch her.”

Oh God.

My hand in Rees’s got tighter.

“Now you show up at my home, her home, my family’s home and do that shit,” Mike went on. “The bullshit you been pullin’ for months is not okay in any way. That shit outside is seriously not okay.”

I was wondering what was outside at the same time not wanting to know when Mike kept speaking.

“But I’m forced to do you a favor. See, I’m gonna make it my mission to be sure whatever punishment you get is the worst it can be. But still, I’m gonna have a sit down with Finley Holliday and I’m gonna see if I can talk him down from finding each one of you and ripping your good-for-nothin’ heads off.”

Oh fuck.

Rees’s hand got really tight in mine.

The doorbell rang.

“Stay here, both of you,” I whispered to the kids and took off down the hall.

I opened the door to Colt, looked up in his serious eyes and informed him, “Living room.”

He nodded, passed me and moved down the hall. I stepped out into the chill but still weirdly warm Indiana in April night.

How I hadn’t seen it before opening the door, I had no idea.

I saw it then.

There was trash all over the bottom end of the front yard, the sidewalk and into the street. It was trash day the next day and No had rolled our bins out earlier. They were on their side, the bags open and all our garbage was strewn everywhere.

But that wasn’t it. There were opened and unrolled condoms everywhere. Dozens of them. Dozens and dozens.

I stepped out, scanned the area and stopped dead.

My truck and Mike’s SUV were parked in the garage. In the drive was No’s beat up junker. And by the light of the streetlamps I could see spray-painted all over it crude penises and the words, Farmer Fin’s fuck buddy rides in this ride.

I noticed another cruiser heading toward our house but woodenly, my brain feeling funny, heated, swelling, like my skull wouldn’t hold it in, my eyes feeling the same in their sockets, I turned and went back into the house. Then I walked to the door to the garage, opened it, swung in and nabbed my keys off the key holder that was on the wall. I pulled out, shut the door and walked into the living room straight to No who was standing close to his sister.

I handed the keys and told him, “Go upstairs. Get dressed. We’ve got a long night. The minute your Dad or Colt tells you it’s all right, you pull my truck out and your car in. Yeah?”

I saw curiosity mixed with alertness enter his face, he nodded, looked to his Dad who gave him a chin jerk then he took off.

I walked in my short little nightie to where I could face the boys.

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