Page 81 of Desperate Haste

“Thank god because these two were getting on my nerves.” Conrad sighs with an eyeroll. Hank and Kolbi look like they’re both ready to deck him and I laugh at my friends before opening the door to the car.

“Come on, dicklickers, I wanna go home.”

* * *

The three ofthem take me back to my apartment and only leave me alone after multiple hours begging and pleading. It’s not that I don’t want to see them, but I’m vying for five minutes to myself without anyone else looking at me or checking in on me. Over the last thirty days, there hasn’t been a single uninterrupted hour where a nurse or patient or shrink wasn’t sharing the same space as I was. Sure, I had signed myself up for such luxury, but I was also ready to be on my own for a second or two. Once the guys had finally left—promising to call me in an hour and if I didn’t answer, they were calling the squad—I took a breath and looked around the room.

Everything is where I remember leaving it, but everything also seems to be slightly out of place. It’s clear they had turned it upside down once I was gone but tried to make it seem like they hadn’t touched anything. Looking around my one bedroom apartment from the couch, I notice a stack of books that looks like it’s about to topple over, so I stand to go and straighten them. Sure enough, as soon as I touch the stack, it tumbles over into a mess of spines and inked up pages.

As I work to restack them, my eyes catch something that’s fallen to the floor. It’s an envelope and when I flip it over to look at the front of it, I realize it’s the envelope with the letter that Marshall had left for me. I never read it after receiving it but remember angrily tossing it onto the pile of books, deciding to pretend like it didn’t exist. Just like I pretended my feelings around losing him didn’t exist, when they very much did. Knowing that reading his letter is part of processing the emotions I have about losing him, I settle myself onto the floor and carefully undo the seal. I try to take a steading breath as I pull out his letter and start to read his chicken scratch handwriting.

Malcolm –

If you’re reading this well, well it means I’m dead. Which is a weird thing to put to paper but it’s something I’ve known was coming for awhile now so I guess I should just get used to the idea of it. Everyone dies, you’ll die, although I hope that doesn’t happen for a very long time.

A chuckle escapes my throat as I read the start of his letter because even in writing, his sense of humor and sarcasm is crystal clear.

I’m sorry for not telling you I wasn’t well. There was a part of me that wanted to pretend like what the doctors were telling me wasn’t real and another part of me that didn’t want to dampen your fire with my own rainstorm. You don’t deserve that. You have such a fire to you, Malcolm, one that I’ve never seen in another person before and one that I hope you hold with you forever. You can endure anything life throws at you. Even when you get a little lost, I know that you can find your way back again. I never had children of my own, but if I did, I would hope they’d turn out like you. Noble, caring, hard working, and resilient. Even when life gets hard or beats you down, you stand back up every time, and I’ve always admired that about you.

I’m always in your corner, kid, even when I’m gone. And if you don’t believe me, check the ring.

My watery eyes squint at the last line.Check the ring?I didn’t know what he meant by that but kept reading.

And you better keep that girl of yours close. She’s a keeper and if you don’t realize that by now then you’re even dumber than I thought you were. But I see it – how good she is for you. Your whole face lights up when you see her as if she’s the goddamn sun. She brings a light to you that I haven’t seen in years. Don’t fuck things up with her or I’ll haunt your ass for the rest of time.

I love you kid.

The letter ends with his name scribbled at the bottom of the page. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and reread the letter quickly to make sure I read it all correctly the first time. Once I reach the bottom of the page, my heart aches from the loss of him all over again. My mind also hangs on the line that confused me on my first read through.

Don’t believe me? Check the ring.

I have no idea what he means but know that in order to find out, I’m going to have to go and see her. After showering quickly and changing my clothes, I pick up the letter and fold it carefully before tucking it into my back pocket. My keys jangle as I slide them off the hook by my door and head for my truck.

I’d made her a promise to come and get the ring once I was ready to be the man she needed me to be. And with Marshall’s words ringing in my ears, I know that I’m ready to fulfill that promise.

42

OPHELIA

My body lands on my couch with awumphand I scrub my face with my hands. I’d just gotten home from work and was going to change to head to the bar for a few hours to check in. I’d hired a bartender in his absence and between the new guy and Alice, they were handling the place well enough at this point without me. I know my friends wonder how I managed to work both my day job and keep Butcher and Block afloat, and honestly I’m starting to wonder the same thing. Having essentially two full time jobs is a lot and the level of exhaustion I feel is more and more apparent the longer I sit on the couch.

As if on cue, the ring that’s pressed into my skin under my work blouse starts to warm, reminding me of why I’m doing this in the first place.

Not awhybut awho. And not just one who, but two.

My fingers reach between the top few buttons of my shirt and pull the ring out, turning it over and spinning it on the chain. I may not have known him as long or as well as Malcolm, but there was something about Marshall that made me fiercely loyal to him. Maybe it was how much he impacted Malcolm or maybe it was how clearly he saw me. He knew that I loved Malcolm before I knew it myself. He also seemed to know that Malcolm would struggle, that he would need me, and he made me promise to watch out for him. And that’s what I’m doing, in whatever way I can. Looking after the barislike looking after Malcolm, and while I might be ready to pass the hell out at six o’clock, I’m still going to head in that direction to check on things anyway.

I’ve just mustered up enough energy to stand from the couch and I’m halfway to my bedroom to change when a knock comes from my front door. My head drops behind me and I groan, too tired to deal with people. I had planned on hiding in the office to do some work when I got to the bar to avoid having to talk to anyone else, so the stranger at the door is an uninvited annoyance. Before opening it, I push out a sharp breath, ready to be polite and cordial to whoever it is. When I open the door though, I feel my face fall and every muscle in my body freeze.

He’s standing outside my door wearing a pair of loosely fitted black jeans and an oversized T-shirt. His hair is damp as if he’s just washed it, and with it tied up his sharp cheekbones on full display. The tattoos that dance around his neck can easily be seen as well as the ones that traipse his arms. When he sees me, he stands up a little taller and pulls his shoulders back. His eyes lower to my chest and he stares for a moment before lifting them back to mine.

“I see you still have it.” When his eyes flit down again, I follow his glance and realize he’s not looking at my chest, he’s looking at Marshall’s ring which is openly hanging from my neck. I hadn’t tucked it away before opening the door and it had caught his attention. My hand absentmindedly wraps around the silver band and gives it a squeeze.

“I see you’re back.” I chew on the inside of my lip and close the door halfway, leaning into my arm that’s holding it open.

“Yeah,” he sighs awkwardly. “The guys picked me up earlier this afternoon.”

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t heard anything from you.” His head falls forward and I know my words land squarely in his chest. I suck in a quick breath.

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