Page 76 of EverGreene
At least, I didn’t have to worry there. Katy cared about her godturtle just as much as I did. Right as I was about to set myphone down again, another notification caught my attention from the app of my home security camera. Most likely, it was just letting me know that Katy had come over, but I opened it anyway to see that motion had been detected about ten minutes ago. Curious, I clicked on the footage, which took me to a view of my front porch—absolutely nothing else, aside from the faintest outline of a figure walking down the sidewalk in the background. I squinted, trying to catch any specific details from the grainy footage that I could. It didn’t look like V, and it wouldn’t make sense that it would be him because he knew I wasn’t home. Yet, it really didn’t make sense that it would be anyone else, either, considering it was dark outside, and the street I lived on wasn’t exactly a bustling metropolis. But it’s not like walking on a sidewalk is against the law. At least I knew the camera worked well enough to pick up images several feet from my front porch.
I’d become so engrossed with my phone that I didn’t notice the man who’d been seated at the other end of the bar move from his stool to take a seat on the empty stool next to mine.
“Here for a work function?” he asked, commanding my attention. I looked up, inspecting him to make sure he wasn’t one of the jurors or anyone else associated with the trial. He was older than me—maybe in his late twenties—with shaggy blond hair, reminding me a little bit of Heath Ledger from10 Things I Hate About You.
“Trial,” I answered him, immediately wishing I’d just saidyeahinstead.
“Oh, a court thing?” I gave him a small smile, looking up just long enough to nod.
“Are you a lawyer?”
At what point did men take a hint when a woman was making it painfully obvious she didn’t want to have the conversation they were trying to initiate? Because my lack ofeye contact and interest in my cell phone should have been heard loud and clear by blondie. “No,” I answered him. “Definitely not a lawyer.”
“Makes sense. I’m sure it’s a lot of schooling to be a lawyer, right?”
Was he implying that I was too lazy to be a lawyer? Or too stupid?
“Yeah, and who needs to learn things, am I right?” I rolled my eyes, trying to zoom in on the figure in the footage.
“See? You get it.”
“Apparently, I get nothing.”
“Don’t be like that. That’s not what I meant.” He paused as though searching his brain for all the tactics in his playbook he’d used before that had actually worked. “I’m Brian.”
Apparently, that playbook was more of a memo.
“Good for you, Brian.”
I could sense the tension radiating from him as I kept my eyes on my phone, and I was just beginning to contemplate getting up when Brian’s sausage-like appendages snatched it from my hand.
“Would it kill you to be nice?” he asked.
Where the hell he came from, I may never know. But only nanoseconds later, Loche was there like a flash of lightning, with his fists bringing the thunder. Brian had barely finished his question when Loche’s hand darted out and gripped Brian’s wrist.
“Don’t you ever take anything out of my girlfriend’s hand again.” Loche sneered at Brian, twisting his wrist in a direction wrists weren’t meant to twist. My phone fell from Brian’s hand, caught by Loche before it struck the bar.
Girlfriend?
“Okay! Okay!” Brian exclaimed, pain infiltrating his voice. “I didn’t know shehad a boyfriend.”
“And that wasn’t information you needed to know. She clearly wasn’t interested, and you weren’t going to take no for an answer, were you, Brian?” My stomach turned when Loche twisted Brian’s wrist to what had to be pushing the breaking point.
“I wasn’t going to do anything to her, man. I just wanted to talk.” A sharp, sickening crack was followed by a yelp from Brian, not unlike a wounded animal.
“Loche, stop. You’re going to break his wrist.”
“Apologize to her,” Loche commanded Brian, ignoring my pleas. Brian’s face had turned an unhealthy shade of pale, and he looked as though he might pass out at any second. “Then I’ll let go.”
“I’m sorry.” Brian’s strained voice adhered to Loche’s command.
“Jesus, Loche. Just let him go.”
“Say it louder,” Loche ordered, bringing his face closer to Brian’s ear.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Fuck. I’m sorry.” Brian’s bellows increased in volume, his voice rising with each ‘I’m sorry’.
Satisfied at last, Loche let go of Brian’s wrist, and his hand immediately fell into his lap, lifeless, as he jumped up from his stool and ran out of the hotel bar.
