Page 73 of Petty's Crime

It’s at that point she starts screaming, but I have no problems walking away from either of them. Saul deserves all he’s going to get, and so does Britney.

And Red? Well, he’s holding onto the wrong end of the stick. Petty and I are nothing to each other. Sure I was attracted to the man who I think he is, but I’m not to the ass he insists on playing. Even with Britney out of the way, he might still continue the act.

Will the revelations be Petty’s come-to-Jesus moment when he knows he can leave his fake persona behind as people will still accept him? Or is it so deeply ingrained that he won’t be able to be anything other than the misogynistic, chauvinistic, arrogant, obnoxious dick that I first thought him?

CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE

Petty

I’m lying in a bed that isn’t even my own as I’d taken that to the apartment. I feel like my whole body is flaming.

I fucking cried in my best friend’s arms.Could there be anything more shameful or embarrassing? Could I have torn up my man card in any worse way, other than admitting I’d let my own wife abuse me? And unlike RoseLyn, I hadn’t walked away. I’d stayed.

With no fight in me, I’m compliant when the doctor, to whom we pay a huge retention fee, arrives and examines me. He’s concerned about my kidneys and suggests further investigation if the blood still appears after a few days. He agrees I’ve cracked a couple of ribs but they’ll heal on their own if I take it easy. My head? Well, that lump and the fact I lost consciousness is apparently cause for concern, and he thinks I’ve got a concussion. He gives strict instructions that should I start getting worse, they get me to the emergency room immediately. My nose, while swollen and hurting, isn’t actually broken. Other than that, he calmly observes the number of bruises littering my body, but doesn’t think any have done permanent harm. He states the obvious, that I’ll be sore and stiff for a while, but should make a full recovery.

Doc’s a professional. He’s got his own well-equipped clinic—a lot of said equipment bought with our retainer—which is why we use him. He usually turns a blind eye even to a gunshot injury and treats us without commenting. Today, however, he seems to find amusement in my predicament. When he asks what Britney used on my head, he doubles over when he hears it was a skillet. Apparently, I’m a walking cliché now. His mirth was not something I needed.

Nor did I appreciate when I heard Red, who’d insisted to stay during the examination despite my protestations, chuckling along with him. Luckily, he didn’t insist on examining my swollen balls in front of him, just commiserated to that injury with an empathic wince.

When he doses me up with painkillers—the good stuff not that shit you get over the counter—he leaves. I’m left feeling physically more comfortable, but it’s the inside of my head that’s a mess.

I try to sit up, but Red puts his hand on my shoulder and prevents me.

“Rest for fuck’s sake, Petty.”

My head is still woozy and I’m not entirely sure what happened down in the basement. I know RoseLyn outed me, but I can’t find it in me to be angry as having the truth out there lifts some of the burden, though I still believe I’d rather they’d killed me. I feel so ashamed, and turn away, unable to face my prez.

I was a normal man before I met Britney. Before her, I’d never questioned my masculinity, nor the lessons my dad had instilled in me. Before her, I’d never understood abuse, never comprehended why a woman didn’t leave the man who hurt her. Now I know it’s all twisted up with the denial that there’s any fault with the person you’ve picked as a life partner, and it’s all too easy to put the blame on yourself.

Sure, I left the toilet seat up, and she admitted she’d overreacted when she’d punched me for it. I’d accepted the apology and the excuse she’d been having a bad day. Then I turned a blind eye and tried not to link the other isolated, but regular, incidents together. I never owned the title of a man who was abused.

Men didn’t put themselves in that situation. And any who had, and hadn’t immediately walked away, was surely not someone anyone could respect.

I can’t see how Red and my brothers could condone my behaviour. But they’d brought me up to a room which isn’t mine, a room I now recognise as Roller’s. And over his chair, I see someone has hung my cut. Someone, my friend perhaps, had brought it up from the basement. Swallowing hard, I remember how close it had come to Twister slicing it off, and know I have RoseLyn to thank for saving it. But I still can’t believe I’ll ever again be wearing it.

Red leaves the room, presumably to see the doctor out and assure him the bill for his house call will be paid. Tears prick at my eyes once I’m left alone, but I’m not allowed long to enjoy my solitude. Red quickly returns.

“What the fuck’s going through your head?” He draws up a chair and places it by the side of the bed.

Summoning my strength, I turn to face my prez. “You want me out of the club.” I phrase it as a statement, not a question. Who’d want a man like me at their back?

Red snorts. “I thought I already told you we won’t be kicking you out though we might be kicking your ass.” He pinches his nose. “You’ve been keeping far too many secrets from us.”

Swallowing a couple of times, I make my apology. “I’m sorry.”

“Damn right you should apologise.” Red moves closer to the bed and looms over me. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me the truth about Britney? You had enough chances. Oh, I knew all wasn’t roses in paradise, but this?” He shakes his head. “This is beyond my imaginings.”

“Didn’t want you to see me as a coward and fuckup, Prez.”

“You’re no coward,” he retorts. “But fuckup? Yeah, I think we can safely say you are that.” There’s a smile in his voice as he turns the chair and straddles it. He grows serious. “Twister got Britney to talk, and he didn’t need long to do it. She’s a coward at heart, just like all bullies. They can dish it out, but they can’t take it.” He huffs. “Apparently, Twister only had to point to Saul as an example of what we do to abusers. I think she quickly caught on that Twister isn’t a pushover.”

Like you,I finish his statement in my head.Nah, I’m the only one Britney can push around.

I don’t even care how he got her to talk. I might not be able to physically hurt her intentionally, but if someone else wants to do the job, it won’t hang heavy on my conscience.

“I want her to sign the divorce papers.”

“I think you can take that as done.” Prez eyes me carefully. “Do you want to know the real reason she came back?”

---