I’m gutted for my friend right now. While he’s always been closer to Mav because of their age, he’s genuinely a good guy. He probably thought he hit the jackpot when Laura began paying attention to him, and knowing how she is, she no doubt poured it on thick.
“Dammit, Cotton! Use the common sense you always forget you have,” Laura berates.
“Here’s a suggestion, why don’t you stop talking in circles and give it to us straight,” Gunner orders, his expression downright deadly and his hands clenched at his sides. His angry appearance is deadly enough to have me taking a step back and getting out of his firing range. When Laura lifts her head and notices the lethal stare she gulps and her eyes frantically shift around, noticing everyone standing there, waiting for her to respond.
“Ben Douglas,” she whispers, looking at me. “He has it out for your family in a bad way. He convinced me that if I married Cotton, since his closest friend is Maverick, and snooped around, he’d make sure Cotton had an accident and I’d end up as his sole beneficiary.”
“You bitch!” Cotton roars, and the usually tame man loses his shit, storming through us and wrapping his hands around Laura’s neck.
Mane quickly gets out of the way of his rage and looks at him stupefied. This is so out of character for Cotton and the things I’ve told her about him that she’s not sure how to react.
“Maverick,” I say his name.
“What?” he asks, seeming lost in his thoughts.
“What do you mean, what? Do something, he’s your friend and will listen to you before he will any of us,” I reason.
“I’m not getting in the middle of that,” Maverick persists. “Besides, it’s about damn time he stands up for himself. I say we let him get this out of his system.”
“Pussy,” Gunner says to him as he steps over to the couple and pulls Cotton back before tossing Laura halfway across the room where she slams into the wall and crumples to the floor.
“Motherfucker!” Maverick whistles. “Remind me not to get on his bad side.”
“May not be a bad idea, brother,” I concur.
“Stay,” Gunner tells Laura as she dazedly lifts her head.
“Damn, Dad. She hit her head pretty hard on the wall. She may have a concussion,” Mane announces.
“That’s going to be the least of her worries by the time we’re done with the ho,” Tex states. “Let’s round the bitch up and get her somewhere we can question her without worrying about Deputy Dickface noticing she’s gone.”
“You heard him, get the lead out of your asses!” Gunner thunders as the entire room jumps from the volume of his tone and begins rushing around. Even Maverick listens to him and walks over to Cotton, convincing him to come with us.
“We’ll come back and clean up later,” Mane promises. “For now, I suggest we lower all the blinds and lock all of the doors. If he has an alarm, we should set that so that nobody breaks in and notices the destruction.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” I rumble, my throat scratchy, feeling as if I’ve gurgled rocks.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
MANE
When we make it back to Mason’s brother's house, the rest of the club is there waiting for us. They didn’t have any luck with the places they searched, which has everyone feeling down in the dumps.
“We didn’t make it further than Cotton’s,” Gunner tells Hydro. “So Myles could be at one of the warehouses we didn’t make it to.” Then he proceeds to give him the scoop on what we walked into and why we have a stray tagging along with us.
After a short discussion, it’s decided that the Kings will go back to Cotton’s and clean up and search through Laura’s stuff while we're there for any clues.
Cotton has resumed the pacing from his house, I don’t think there’s one square inch of grass left in his footsteps. He’s making a semi-circle then turning around and reversing the pattern. “Cotton, can I get you anything?” I ask him as I step closer to where he’s steadily striding. He doesn’t verbally respond, lost in thought but he does have the forethought to shake his head. “Okay, well if you change your mind let one of us know, alright?” This time he nods his head, but other than that, completely ignores everyone around him.
“He’s spiraling,” Mason remarks as he comes up and places his hand on my shoulder. “For some reason, he trusted Laura.” When he uses her name, his face wrinkles in revulsion, like simply saying it is offensive to his tongue.
“He trusts blindly, doesn't he?” I ask Mason.
“He always has, but for some reason I don't see that being a future occurrence.” I emit a grunt at Mason’s speculation because this is going to be hard for someone like Cotton to come to terms with. He turns to me and asks, “In your professional opinion, do you think this will change him? Will it make him more jaded?”
“I don't know him well enough to officially announce that. I'd have to sit down and speak with him to make any sort of a mental diagnosis, I don’t like to label anyone without having firsthand knowledge of their psyche. But if it were me, Mason, I’d have recurring trust issues after suffering such an intense betrayal as he has, especially if someone new comes around,” I theorize.