The First Three Rules (25 page)

Loneliness? Solitude?

Something big and terrible?

Jon didn’t know and when he thought about it, he didn’t care. If that made him a selfish bastard, so be it.

Bag in one hand, Jon snatched the spare set of keys from the nail next to the front door. He stuffed them in his pocket and fled to the truck.

Cold spread across his shoulders.

Jon tossed the duffle onto the passenger seat as he got in.

The truck started with no hesitation almost as if it was in as much of a hurry to get out of there as he was. He pushed the gas too hard. The loud bang made Jon jump.

Don’t worry. You’ll never get a chance to hear the shot.

Jon sped down the driveway. The ruts in the ground bounced him against the door. Fear breathed against the back of his neck. The big and terrible thing born of his mind didn’t want to let go.

A few miles later, the red neon sign of Sanky’s Bar caught his attention. Cotton filled his mouth and sand clogged his throat. Jon fought to swallow.

“It’ll pass…” He scrubbed a line of sweat away from his eyes. “Just keep it together. It will pass.”

It had to. He could not let Ellis see him like this.

Jon took a left at the four-way heading to Ellis’s house. The terror gnawing at his senses eased and the tension in his body flowed with it. Another mile and his breathing slowed. His mouth was still dry but the thirst was gone.

“You’re a pussy, you know that?” Jon glanced up at the rearview. “An A-one pussy. Acting like a fucking kid running out of the basement.” He laughed. “Mike would have a field day psychoanalyzing that one.”

A deep rumbling sound came up behind him. The dually was jacked so high on oversized wheels that it flashed the sway bar. It ate up the street behind him. Mud tires growled against the asphalt and the engine roared, drowning everything out.

The driver flashed the headlights.

“What the hell is your problem, buddy, go around.”

The grey behemoth lunged like it wanted to take a bite out of the ass end of the pickup.

“Shit.”

The dually fell back only to bolt forward again.

Jon braced for impact but it fell short.

He slowed and so did the truck. “Just pass me, asshole.”

The headlights flashed again and the horn blared in a long jagged note.

Jon pulled over.

The dually stopped too.

A man got out. His reflection in the side mirror was tall, wiry, and wore a nasty grin. He loped up with his shoulders spread as wide as his narrow frame would allow. Dressed in a leather vest over a flannel shirt combined with the jeans and cowboy boots, he looked like a front end collision between a motor cycle gang member and a redneck.

Jon got out.

The man stopped.

“Problem?” Jon greeted him with a nod.

The stranger grazed a glare over Jon, then the truck. “My mistake. Thought you was someone else.”

And Jon was willing to bet the house on who that someone was. “You must be Lenny?”

“And you must be the marshal fucking Queer Boy.”

Jon took a few steps and so did Lenny. They met near the end of the truck, chest to chest, eye to eye. The scent of tobacco and beer stained Lenny’s breath

“I’m sorry,” Jon said. “Did you say something? I couldn’t quite hear it from way over here.”

“You heard me. You two faggots are the talk of the town. So, you doing the retard too?”.

“I think you better get back in your vehicle and drive away. And it would be conducive to your health to steer clear of Ellis.”

“Why? You going to arrest me if I don’t, Mr. Marshal? Louis and Russell did some checking on you. Seems you’ve had your teeth pulled and was sent out to pasture. What happened? They find out you like it up the ass?”

Anger spilled over into Jon’s voice in a steady low tone. “I’ll say it one more time. Get in your truck and drive away.”

Lenny made some space between them. “That’s okay, there’ll be a next time.”

“I hope not.”

A darkness flowed through the man’s eyes, clouding the gray, filling up the color like a puff of smoke. “Who knows, maybe I’ll even give Queer Boy a test drive to see what it’s all about.” The shadows gathered into storm clouds. No, not clouds. A thing.

Something
big and terrible
.

And the monster promised Lenny wouldn’t just hurt Ellis, he would destroy him.

Jon snatched Lenny by throat and slammed him into the side of the truck. He barked out a surprised yelp. The punch he threw struck Jon in the ribs. But the rage burning through his limbs ate up the impact.

The smell of gun powder and sweat filled Jon’s lungs. The eyes he stared into reflected the faces of helpless young girls being used as living shields, a cop who watched his partner die, and his best friend scared shitless that he might never get to see his family again.

A gurgled bubbled out of Lenny’s throat and he kicked Jon in the knee, but the bolt of pain fizzled out on impact. The images of that day in the warehouse played over and over in Jon’s mind and the self hate, the anger, the thirst to make things right coursed through his muscles, creating steel cables, instead of human flesh. Jon raised his arm and Lenny went from the tips of his boots to dangling inches from the ground. The red in his cheeks purpled and his eyes bulged. He clawed at Jon’s hand, leaving deep red scratches. Snot bubbled from Lenny’s nostrils and tears painted his cheeks.

Kill him.

The urge infected Jon.

That’s right. Crush his windpipe. Watch him die. Make him bleed, Jon.

Froth filled the corners of his mouth.

Make him suffer. Then he could never hurt Ellis again.

Already the cartilage dimpled under Jon’s grip and Lenny’s pulse threaded against his palm. He could do this.

He would do it.

For everyone. For every tortured life he couldn’t save. For every injustice he couldn’t repair.

“It’s good you’re here, Jon, because Ellis needs someone to keep his clothes from being wrinkled.”

Jon yanked his hand off of Lenny and he collapsed on the ground. Every gasp passed his lips with a brittle gurgle. He braced himself against the truck and wobbled to his knees. The fear in his eyes was replaced by the kind of hate that created madmen.

Lenny scrubbed his arm across his mouth. “You’ve messed…” He coughed. “With the wrong man. I’m gonna fuck you up, Mr. Marshal.” He pushed himself to his feet and toppled over. “I’m going make your life hell.” Two more tries and he was able to stand. The feral snarl on Lenny’s face hardened and the evil rekindled in his eyes. He staggered to his truck. Lenny gripped the grab bar, swung his foot up to the side step, and lost his grip. Gravel shifted under his foot, and he landed on his ass.

On his second attempt he was able to make the climb into his truck.

Even through the tinted windshield his fury glowed.

Wads of dirt and grass were thrown up by the spinning tires as he tore out into the street. The thrum of thick tread against asphalt faded as he put distance between them. His break lights didn’t even flicker at the four way stop.

Jon held up his hands. Creases cut white marks across the skin of his palm and fingers. Those were not his hands. They couldn’t be. Jon opened and closed his fists.

What had he become?

Where was his control?

You’re just like Lenny, Jon. Just a different flavor. Embrace it.

Was he?

“…You’ve given me a slice of life…”

“No. I might be a lot of things but I’m nothing like Lenny.”

Jon turned to get back in the truck.

A bone grinding pain shot from his knee and it gave out. He caught himself on the bed of the truck. The muscles in his side ached.

He lifted his shirt. Angry red splotches followed the line of his ribs. Nothing moved when he applied pressure but it sure did hurt like a bitch. The worst of it dulled with a few deep breaths.

His knee wasn’t as forgiving.

Jon braced himself on the truck and limped back to the cab.

Exhaustion pushed Jon’s forehead against the steering wheel. It was a deep chugging sound that brought him to his senses. He jerked around. A tractor rolled by and the driver waved.

Jon pulled up in front of Ellis’s house. He sat there while the soft tick of the cooling engine counted off the seconds.

He’d screwed up. And bad.

Lenny wasn’t the kind of man who’d go to the police. His kind of revenge would be brutal. There was no telling what he’d do but whatever it was, he’d target Ellis.

He needed to know what happened, but would he forgive Jon for making things worse?

A knock on the window made him turn. Rudy pressed his face to the glass. His grin spread ear to ear. “Hi Jon!”

Jon forced a smile.

“Are you coming inside? Ellis made lunch. Macaroni and cheese. It’s not as good as ice cream, but it’s good. I think I like hotdogs better though. Still not as good as ice cream, but almost.”

Jon pulled the door release and Rudy backed up. Jon grabbed his bag before getting out.

Rudy reached out and touched it. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He shut the door and the chunk cut the air.

Rudy led the way up the steps. “Are you staying? I really want you to stay. I could give you all my baseball cards. I might want to look at them sometimes, but I can give them to you.”

“Keep the cards.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you staying?”

“For a while.” If Ellis still wanted him to. After this, there was a chance he wouldn’t.

Inside, Rudy ran ahead and disappeared into the kitchen. “Jon’s staying! Jon’s staying.” Glass cracked against the floor. “Uh, oh.”

“Go sit down in the living room before we run out of dishes.”

Jon followed the sound of Ellis’s voice and found him picking up the pieces of a plate. He looked up, “Hey, I was beginning to worry.”

“Sorry, the phone call took longer than I thought.” The happiness in Ellis’s eyes burned a hole through Jon’s heart.

Ellis went back to cleaning up the mess. “I’m going to have to buy new plates if he keeps this up.” He carried the broken bits to the garbage, then got out the dustpan and broom from the cupboard. “I think he breaks three a month. Nothing matches anymore.” He swept up the smaller fragments. “I guess it doesn’t really matter though.” Ellis dumped out the dustpan and put everything away. When he turned around, Jon dropped his gaze.

He forgot about his knee and shifted his weight. A bolt of fire seared his muscles. He caught himself on the door jamb.

“What’s wrong with your leg?

“My stupidity.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jon lost his nerve and headed toward the bedroom. Getting up the stairs was like being stabbed in the bottom of the foot with every step.

Ellis followed. “Jon?”

He couldn’t stop.

“Jon.” Ellis grabbed his arm. Jon forgot about the pain for a moment and admired Ellis for being assertive.

“Tell me why you’re limping.”

Jon put down the duffle bag and sat on the edge of the bed. “Lenny tried to run me off the road.”

“What?”

“He thought I was you and when I got out of the truck, we exchanged a few words.”

“And he hurt you.” Ellis’s face fell.

Jon shook his head. “Not as bad as I hurt him.”

Ellis stared.

“I almost killed him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just what I said. I grabbed him by the throat. I almost choked him to death.” Ellis stood there, all pale. Jon wished he was mad. He could deal with that. The thought of Ellis being afraid of him threatened to crack his resolve.

“What did he say to you to make you do that?”

“It’s not important.”

“You almost killed a man. It’s important.”

Jon stared at his hands. The one he strangled Lenny with throbbed. Even his joints felt stiff when he opened and closed it.

“Jon. Tell me.”

He didn’t want to, but he did. When he was done Ellis was still beside him. He touched Ellis’s hand, hoping he wouldn’t pull away. For a few seconds, he didn’t respond then his fingers went tight.

Jon brought Ellis’s knuckles to his lips and kissed them. “I need you to know that I would never hurt you or Rudy. Never.”

Ellis sat beside him. “I know.” He put his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. Then he pushed his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end, he blew out a couple of breaths, sat back and then forward. He rubbed the back of his neck. “What if he has you arrested?”

“It’ll never happen.”

“Why not? Louis and Russell are in his back pocket. They’ll do anything he tells them to.”

“Trust me, he won’t call the cops.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah, I do. People like him don’t go to the police, they take care of things their own way, in their own time.”

Ellis bit his lip. “He’ll come after you, won’t he?”

“It’s not me I’m worried about.”

If Lenny came after Ellis, Jon would do worse things than choke him. But no matter how bad he hurt Lenny, it wouldn’t undo any harm to Ellis.

Jon dropped his shoulders. “I screwed up and I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t start this.”

“No, but that doesn’t change the fact I’ve put you in danger.”

“I was already in danger.”

“Okay, more danger.” Jon shook his head. “Are you sure you’ve never had a run in with this guy before?”

“Yes.”

“Then what the hell is his problem?”

“I don’t know. He’s only made the occasional nasty comment about Rudy and me. But, honestly, I think he does that to a lot a people. He’s just mean, Jon. Evil. Ever since he moved here, it’s been hell. I mean, it wasn’t easy dealing with Rudy in public before. But now? I swear, Lenny rubs off on people. George said his father is ten times as bad. He doesn’t come into town anymore. Hasn’t for a while. He had two brothers, but both of them are dead now.”

“What happened?”

Ellis shrugged. “I think one of them died in prison and the other one… I’m not sure.”

“So you’re saying the whole family is bad?”

“I guess so. And it’s like it gets worse every time I see him.”

“Have you considered getting a protective order?”