Love Resolution

Picking at the dried blood and black fingerprint ink underneath his nails, Marcus waited alone inside the holding cell. He was stone cold sober now, agonizingly so. His mind circled endlessly around images of Avery… unconscious, bleeding, lying so pale and still on the stretcher as those ambulance doors closed and took her away.

He wrinkled his nose, the rank aroma in the cell befitting the shithole his life had become in the last twenty four hours.

“Marcus.”

“Dwight.” His head snapped up at the welcome sound of his brother’s voice. He rose and crossed to him shoes catching on the sticky floor. A uniformed officer with a large ring of keys accompanied Dwight. “How is she?”

“She’s gonna be ok. They’ve been monitoring her overnight at the hospital because of the concussion, and they had to put invisible stitches in to close the laceration on her forehead. The doctor said she’s lucky that it wasn’t a whole lot worse.”

“Thank God.” Marcus closed his eyes and let out a broken breath.

“What the hell were you thinking? You were lucky, too. You could have both been killed,” Dwight hissed in his ear as he exited the cell door the officer had opened.

“I wasn’t.” Self-loathing coated his words.

“Your bail has been posted. Come with me,” the officer instructed, stepping around the brothers and leading them down the long corridor.

“You’ve got to get some help,” Dwight insisted, pulling him in for a quick, hard hug. “You can’t do this shit anymore. I can’t take it.”

Marcus nodded mutely. Emotionally exhausted, he had nothing left in him to return the hug or acknowledge the plea.

After completing the paperwork and agreeing to a court hearing in thirty days, they were sent to the release desk to collect Marcus’ personal belongings. Taking the bulging manila envelope from the clerk, Marcus shook the contents out onto the counter. Wallet, keys and watch slid out with a thump before a silver bracelet flecked with dried blood followed, clanging musically against the tile. He stilled, bowed his head, and covered it up with his hand.

“Let’s go,” Dwight said giving him a worried glance.

Outside on the city sidewalk, before Marcus could even take a single breath of fresh air after the most horrible night of his life, he heard them yelling his name.

Shit.

A pack of reporters descended, shoving microphones in his face. He ducked his head and hurried toward a black Suburban that had pulled up and double parked near the curb. Dwight opened the door and Marcus slid into the back seat.

Effing Vultures.

He glanced at the man who was driving. He was a stranger. Ray must be with Avery at the hospital. Good. That’s where he ought to be, and that’s how it was going to be from now on.

“Mom and Dad know?”

“Who doesn’t? It’s all over the news. You, Avery, Bryan Jackson. This is a huge cluster.” His usually affable brother looked totally frazzled, reddish blond hair awry and blue eyes bloodshot. “I’ll take you over to see Avery first. Then you’re on your own to face this shit storm. I really don’t know whose madder, Mom or Mary. But you’re gonna have to deal with them both.”

He nodded. He’d expected no less. “I’m not going to the hospital,” Marcus said quietly.

“Why the hell not?” Dwight asked incredulously.

“She wouldn’t want me there.”

“Yes, she does. She’s been pretty out of it but she’s been calling for you.”

“It’s better if I don’t.” Marcus turned away and stared out the window.

“What kinda crap is this?” His eyes narrowed on Marcus’ face “Did you hit your head, too? What the hell is going on with you and Avery?”

Marcus was quiet for a long time. “She could have died, Dwight, and I would have been responsible.” He was sure his expression revealed the turmoil he felt inside. “I totally f*cked up. Nothing I say or do can make it right. And I’m not going to go over to the hospital and make this an even bigger ordeal for her than it already is.”

“I don’t get it.” Dwight scratched his head in obvious consternation. He pulled out his cell. “You’ve got to call her at least.”

“No.” Marcus covered up his brother’s hand. “I don’t.”

Dwight studied his face. “She’ll forgive you, you know.”

Marcus wished she wouldn’t. He didn’t deserve it.