It's Only Fair Ch. 06

Neosporin and band-aids on her wrists to cover the cuts. Someone else had chained her in the basement. And she did the same to him. Handcuffs and marks. A guy she knows, but Elle doesn't have many friends. But her wrists were red two weeks ago. Red and chaffed looking. Niggling thought...just there...think Rick. Think.

Stan. Two weeks ago.

Stan's wrists and his sweatshirt.

Stan hunched in his shirt like his back was sore.

Unable to meet my gaze, embarrassed.

He lives across the street, has sporadic work schedule, can come and go with ease.

Both of our friends for 6 years.

It was odd, seeing the emotions flick across my face in the mirror until my lips curled and my brows fell, the depths of my eyes growing stormy and my nose flared. To see my face transform to one of fury. Fury and anger like I had never felt before.

Holy...Fucking...Shit.

I went to the front door and tore it open. I heard it bang against the wall inside and I hoped that it didn't wake Amber up, but it didn't stop me as I strode across the street leaning forward like I was travelling into a wind. I didn't notice how clenched my fists were until I raised one to bang on Stan's front door and glimpsed how white and bloodless the fingers were.

I hammered his front door twice, and then twice more. I heard him inside stumbling about and a muffled, "Hold on a damn second, I'm coming!" before he opened it, momentarily cross. It changed to surprise on seeing me there. "Rick! What's up, bud? You ok?"

"Stan," my voice was menacing and low. "I'm not ok."

"What's up, what's going on?"

"Stan...have you been fucking around with Elle?"

His eyes opened wide, but his gaze couldn't seem to stay on mine, it kept drifting off center. "Rick, what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

I slammed my fist into the doorframe by his head, the wood making a terrible racket and a bolt of pain driving up my arm. Mother fucker, that hurts! "Don't lie to me. Don't you dare fucking lie to me, man. Six years of fucking friendship, you owe me the truth. You owe the fucking truth." God damned, I think I broke my fucking hand. "Have you been fucking around with Elle?"

He leaned back a step, still unable to keep eye contact with me. Hs stood as if defeated, long and drawn. But still he refused to answer me, as if silence would by him a few more seconds reprieve.

"ANSWER ME!" I roared, not caring who heard me in the neighborhood.

"YES!" he roared back, matching my volume with his own. "Yes, you fucking prick. Yes! Is that what you want to hear?!"

In my mind's eye, I had already cocked my arm back and tightened my fist. I saw myself lunging forward and projecting each and every terrible feeling I had been experiencing into a single point two inches beyond the reach of my hand. A point that would aim at his smug fucking face and unleash the entirety of my unrelenting fury.

I was going to feel his skin under my throbbing knuckles bend and fold, the bones splinter, and the meat and flesh that makes up his head beyond that deaden and distend beneath my blow. I would then rear back and do it again and again and again and again until I had nothing left and I had vented all of my unfathomable ire upon him.

I did see my fist form, and I felt my elbow contract backwards, but I heard in my mind Lenny's voice telling me, "You've got to be like Mother Theresa. Team Amber."

Fuck. Fuck you Stan. Fuck you Lenny. Fuck you Spencer and Kerri and Rafferty and Ma and Ron and Jessica and Shelly and Margaret and everyone! Fuck all of you!!

I can't hit him. Not because I don't want to. I have never wanted anything more in my life than to punch Stan in the fucking face. That sense of calm, that peace that I had felt before my one other fight at 17 had me in its wings. I was soaring with the eagles. I could not be touched. But, I can't hit him, because if I do, it's assault and I go to jail. CPS comes and takes Amber away. Elle is in 5 North and is unable to care for a child at this time. I get a record and can lose my job. The house gets lost and repossessed. The Law Guardian will get her way and I'll be declared an unfit parent.

If I hit him, I'll feel momentarily better and Stan will get a little punishment for his part in this; but my life as I know it is over and my daughter will bear the brunt of her father's singular instance of selfishness and stupidity for the remainder of her life.

Stan, you fucking scumbag, you are not worth it.

The haze lifted from my vision and forced my fist to relax. "No, Stan. What I wanted to hear was my FUCKING friend wasn't having some bondage assed sex games with my FUCKING wife while I was work!"

"Shit, Rick. I am so sorry. Really! If it means anything, we never actually fucked. I swear!"

"No, you filthy scum fuck. It does mean anything! What kind of lowlife pond scum prick are you? Who the fuck does that to another man's wife? To your FUCKING friend's wife?!"

I stabbed a finger at him, "You've been to my house. Ate at my table. Shared my food. Played with my daughter! Have you no honor?! No shame?! Where's your fucking loyalty?! At what point did you think to yourself that this was a good FUCKING idea?!"

"Damn it, Rick! I'm sorry, ok!? That what you want to hear?! I'm fucking sorry man!"

"Ram your apology up your ass you cock sucking shitbag! I hope you fucking die! I hope you get a terrible disease and waste away slowly and fucking die!"

I turned, storming off his stoop and began to walk away. "Don't ever come near me again, Stan! You ever cross the street and step foot on my property, I'll kill you. You don't look at me, talk to me, you don't even come outside when I'm out here. You're fucking dead to me! You'll get yours, Stan. It'll happen one day. I just hope I'm there to fucking laugh about it!"

He had a mixture of horror and sadness on his face, still standing in his doorway, staring at me as I ranted and raved and walked away. "Rick..."

I gave him the finger so hard it made my hand throb. "Fuck you, scumbag!" I stormed back across the street and went inside, slamming my own front door closed. I immediately checked on Amber, seeing her sound asleep in her crib. I grabbed a bag of peas from the freezer and wrapped my aching hand around it, hoping to stem the swelling.

To Hell with this.

I strode away, went into the office and snagged my cell phone.

I dialed Lenny's number until his voice service picked up. I waited until I was told to leave a message following the tone.

*BEEP*

"Lenny Furman. It's Rick Masters. Friday night, about 11. I'm calling to let you know that I'd like to divorce Elle as soon as possible. Call me when you get the chance. Thanks."