Dead Outside (Book 1) (3 page)

“Can
we not do this here?” Nick asked seriously.

“So,”
I jumped into the conversation to cut the tension before it got worse and
awkward. “Roxie, would you mind getting the next round of drinks? We’re about
to start another game.”

They
stared at each other with spiteful eyes for a minute before Roxie broke the
staring contest.

 “Why
are you giving all your money to Nick again?” Roxie asked, tucking her straightened
reddish brown hair behind her ear. It was naturally curly, but she often
straightened it to keep it in check.

I
rolled my eyes and came back with, “Well obviously so he can give it all back
to me next time we play poker.”

“Have
you talked to Sarah lately?” Roxie asked as we sat down at the table where Nick
and I kept our mugs of beer.

“Yeah
I did today. She said she’s getting into town tomorrow sometime,” I informed
Roxie. “So I don’t think I’ll be seeing her before I leave.”

“I
wouldn’t count on that,” I heard from behind me. I turned to see Sarah standing
right behind me. She was a few inches taller than Roxie. She had her curly
brown hair tied up in a ponytail, but it was still long enough to go past her
shoulders.

“When
did you get here?” I asked awe struck.

“I
got on an earlier flight,” she smiled. “I called Roxie and she picked me up
from the airport. I wouldn’t miss hanging out with you guys.”

She
reached over and gave me a hug, so I returned it. “Well I’m glad you could make
it. You’re just in time to watch me kick Nick’s ass at pool.”

“Sam,
you suck at pool,” she laughed. “You never win.”

“One
of these days I’m going to beat him and you’re all going to be eating your
words,” I proclaimed. "I’ll just go get Sarah a drink at the bar and then
we’ll settle this.”

“I’ll
come with you,” Sarah said as she set her purse on the table.

I
walked up to the bar and pulled a five dollar bill out of my pocket. As I
waited for the bartender I caught a glimpse of Rodger, an ass hole who went to
high school with all of us and used to date Sarah. He was my height, with a
stockier frame. He had gained some weight in recent years. I could hear him
talking to two other guys. His mere presence was enough to bring my blood to a
boil. Sarah only dated him for a few months after high school, but during that
time he'd been both physically and mentally abusive toward her.

“And
here she is now! I knew you’d come crawling back to me Sarah.” Rodger slurred
his words, he was far from sober. Sarah ignored him. He wasn’t worth the
trouble, until he turned in my direction.

“Hey
Sam, long time no see.” He walked over to me and placed his arm on my shoulder,
leaning in and talking only inches from my ear so Sarah couldn’t hear him and
said in his usual condescending way, “You know you don’t have a chance at
getting in Sarah’s pants. She’s way out of your league, but she wasn’t out of
mine, and let me tell you, she’s one fine piece of…”

I
cut his little rant off by swinging my right hand right into his face, hitting
him in the cheek and knocking him off his bar stool. “You need to shut the hell
up before you say something stupid,” I said as I rubbed my knuckles.

A
fist that wasn't Rodger's connected with my right jaw out of nowhere, shooting
stars across my vision. Before I hit the ground, somebody caught me. I noticed
it was Nick as I got back to my feet. I nodded to him as soon as I got my
bearings, he responded with a nod of his own and punched The guy who must have
sucker punched me. I recognized him as Dave, another alumni from our old high
school. He used to play on the football team with Rodger. Unlike Rodger, he
hadn't lost his football figure, luckily he was a wide receiver and not a
linebacker.

I
looked over at Rodger and he had also gotten back to his feet. Before I could
get my hands up he ran at me and tackled me into a table knocking it over,
along with the drinks that were on it. We both hit the ground and rolled in
opposite directions. It took me a second to get my bearings. I stood up about
the same time Rodger did. He charged me with a bar stool, but I grabbed it and
used it as leverage to swing him into a wall. While I'm sure there were plenty
of people near our scuffle, I had tunnel vision. If I didn't know any better 'd
say Rodger and I were the only people in the room.

He
was a little dazed on his knees, so I grabbed his shoulders and helped him to
his feet. But it was a ruse, he punched me in my ribs. My breath was leaving
me, so kneed him in the abdomen, and threw him back against the wall behind
him.

I
glanced over to Nick and saw he was standing over Dave who was unconscious now,
staring at James, another friend of Rodger's who was shaking in his boots, too
scared to get involved. I wasn't surprised. James was on the scrawny side, and
couldn't have weighed more than a hundred pounds soaking wet.

“Don’t
you ever talk to her, look at her, or even think about her again. You hear me?”
I threatened Rodger.

He
spit in my face then asked, “And what are you going to do about it?”

I
punched him square in the jaw, knocking him off his feet. He hit the floor hard,
and didn't try to get back up right away, just writhed around. “I’ll embarrass
you in public again, you piece of shit.”

Rodger
got up after a few seconds, around the same time Dave was coming to and they left
the bar in a hurry. The fight only lasted a minute or so, and didn't draw as
much attention as I thought it had. In fact, half the bar didn't even notice
it. If Nick and I weren't so friendly with the staff we'd probably have been
kicked out.

Roxie
and Sarah ran over to Nick and I. “Are you guys okay?” Roxie asked. “Rodger is
such an ass hole.” Both girls had really concerned looks on their faces.

I
let out a long drawn out groan, hunched over, clutched my side and said, “I
think I broke a rib.”

Nick
was holding his right hand, flinching when he moved it. “I think I broke my
hand on that guy’s face.”

“Oh
my God! Did you really?” Roxie asked, and then she gave him a piece of ice to
put on his hand.

“Are
you going to be ok?” Sarah asked, putting her hand on my shoulder trying to
comfort me.

I
stood up straight and smiled. “Nah, I’m just kidding, I’m fine.”

Sarah
hit me in the arm. “Why do you have to be like that?”

I
let out a fake yelp of pain. “Okay, so I didn’t break a rib, but I did just get
in a fight, and I am a little sore.”

Sarah’s
angry look went back to sympathy. “I’m sorry, but you better not do it again.”

Roxie
looked at Nick. “You’re hand better be broken.”

His
painful face melted into one of fear. “Um, on second thought, I think it’s just
a sprain.”

Roxie
cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, so now it’s just a sprain.” She chuckled. “You’re so
full of it.”

“Okay,
well let’s get back to our table.” Nick cleared his throat, changing the
subject. “We don’t want to lose it.”

“I’ll
meet you guys there,” I said to everyone, then went back and grabbed the drinks
off the bar.

When
I got back to the table everyone was laughing. “What’s so funny?” I asked

“Your
tough guy face,” Sarah giggled. “It’s so cute.”

Nick
imitates it and deepens his voice into a mocking tone, “I’ll embarrass you in
public again.”

I
had to admit it was pretty funny. “Yeah, laugh it up. Now who’s ready to take
me on at pool?”

Sarah
jumped out off her stool and grabbed a cue. “I think the question is you ready
to lose to a girl?”

I
smiled and answered, “Always.”

2:00
AM June 13

My
old truck rattled slightly along the old cracked road leading to Sarah’s house.
The road had been on the city’s list of ‘things to take care of’ for years, but
they never quite got around to it.

Sarah
reached over to the radio and turned it down slightly. “I always have loved
this old Ranger,” she said referring to my truck. “It may not be the flashy car
that Nick drives, but it’s got that rugged reliability.”

“That’s
why I bought it, rugged reliability,” I chuckled. “Even though the last few
months I've spent more time under it than I have driving it, I'm sure I'll fix
it like I always have. You never know when you’re going to need to haul some
large pink furniture.”

“One
time I asked you to help me move my cousin’s furniture, and I never hear the
end of it.” She smiled. “Besides, when that cop pulled you over, the look on
your face was priceless. You were more red then a tomato.”

“That’s
why you don’t haul pink furniture in a man’s truck,” I jested back, “And I
wasn’t blushing, I had… sunburn.”

“You
had sunburn, my ass,” she responded sarcastically.

I
just gave up. She got her shot in, and we were at her house now. I put the
truck in park, and we got out. Her house was an old two story farm house, like
something out of the
Grapes of Wrath
. The paint was chipping in places,
the yard wasn’t in the best of shape, and the trees could use some trimming. It
didn’t always look like that, it used to be well kept until Sarah’s mom passed
away about six years ago, and her dad sort of lost interest in little things
like that.

We
walked up to the door and stood there for a second. She looked up at the top of
my head. “I got it!” she exclaimed out of nowhere.

“You
got what?” I asked with a perplexed look on my face. I reached up and felt the
top of my head. I was wearing a camouflage baseball cap that said Remington
across the front. It wasn’t anything unusual. I’d been wearing baseball caps my
whole life. I almost felt uncomfortable when I didn’t have one on, almost like
I was naked.

“Hold
on, I’ll be right back,” she said as she ran inside. “Stay right there!”

“Not
going anywhere!” I yelled back to her as the door swung back shut.

“That
girl’s been waiting for you to kiss her at that door for six years,” I heard a
gruff voice utter from the corner of the front porch. I was slightly embarrassed
I hadn't noticed someone else was on the porch with us.

I
glanced over to see Sarah’s Father sitting in the dark with a glass in his
hand, and a nearly empty bottle at his side. “I’ve been waiting to kiss her at
that door for eight. How’ve you been lately Mr. W?”

“As
good as one can be I suppose,” he admitted with a sip from his glass, setting a
fat cigar down into an ash tray, “And I could have sworn I told you to stop
calling me that.”

I
walked over and sat down in the chair next to him. “Sorry Jerry. Old habits die
hard.”

When
Sarah’s mom passed away six years ago, her dad took it hard. He took to the
bottle to try cope. He never became a violent man. He was still the gentle
giant he’d been before, always with a joke or sarcastic remark. It was his
coping mechanism, helping him to get through the day with a little less
troubling him, and I didn’t think any less of him for it.

“You're
a man now," He said as he took a puff from his cigar, "more than I ever
was at your age, whether you realize it or not. While showing respect is
important, I think we're beyond that bullshit at this point. You'll probably
like this brand, not too harsh, got a decent flavor. Put that in your humidor."

He
handed me a cigar which I accepted right away. I learned a while ago that
declining gifts from Jerry was a futile attempt, he'd hunt you down to give it
to you whether you wanted it or not. I wasn't sure what to say in response to
that, so I took the cigar and sniffed it. It wasn't mild by my taste, but it
wasn't overly harsh.

"One
of these days she’ll realize you’re what she needs. I had to go through the
same shit with her mother. She put up a hell of a fight,” he referred to his
late wife. “But eventually we got married, and that was it. We were in love,
more so then I could ever describe.”

His
eyes were beginning to gloss up, and he took another sip of his drink,
finishing it off. “I know exactly what you mean.” I agreed with him. “I would
do anything and everything for Sarah. Even if I had to cross the country for her
on foot, I would.”

A
rare smile crept up the side of his face as he refilled his glass with the
bottle he had at his side. “I know you would, which is why I respect the hell
out of you, more so than any of the assholes and jackasses she’s gone out with
before.” He sipped his fresh drink, “And if you ever learn anything from this
worn out old man, let it be that if you find what you truly want, it doesn’t
matter how long you have to wait for it. It’s worth it.”

“Well
I’ve never been one to just give up hope, especially not when it comes to her.”
I adjusted the hat on my head, “Even if it takes me another eight years of
waiting, I’ll still be standing outside that door waiting.”

I
heard the screen door swing open. Sarah didn’t have the huge grin she had when
she ran inside, but a bit more like she was lost in her thoughts a bit. She had
something in her hands. It was a worn and slightly faded black baseball cap.

I
couldn’t help but smile wide. “You still got that old thing?” I asked
sarcastically as she ripped the Camouflage one off the top of my head and
placed the black one in its place. It fit perfectly onto my head, like I had
worn it just yesterday.

“Of
course I still have it!” she exclaimed. “You gave it to me when I went off to
college in Oregon for that semester right out of high school, so that I could
have a little piece of you to remember you by.”

I
thought back to that day. She had wanted to go to the college her mom went to
out in Oregon her whole life, and when she was accepted she could barely contain
herself. I gave it to her when I thought she was going for the long haul, four
whole years away from home, only coming back for summers and maybe the
occasional holiday. It turned out a bit differently when she didn’t quite do as
well as she could have, and decided to come home. She lost the hat at her
aunt’s house where she was staying while attending college.