The Good Neighbor - Bettes Kimberley A. - Страница 25

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He grabbed his damaged goods and doubled over in agony. He fell to his knees in a heap and sobbed, writhing in the street. I was pretty sure he was crying.

I saw Carla raise the club high above her head, and I barely had time to react. I leaped toward her, grabbing the club before she brought it down. She was easier to hold than Owen, but she was still a force to be reckoned with. The anger and hatred she felt for Bernie at that moment for whatever he’d done to her gave her strength that she surely didn’t possess on any ordinary day.

“Don’t,” I said quietly to her. “He’s not worth doing time over.”

She allowed me to take the golf club from her. The hollow look in her eyes made my heart ache. I didn’t know what Bernie had done to her. I probably couldn’t even begin to imagine the things he’d done. I didn’t want to try. I’d never liked Bernie. I’d always thought he was creepy. The look on his face had always suggested to me that he was in the middle of some seriously perverted and twisted fantasy. Even though I didn’t really know Carla, I felt for her at the moment in a way I never thought I would. Looking into her empty eyes gave me a small taste of her pain.

Fortunately, Jill arrived at her side just in time for Carla to bury her face in Jill’s shoulder and weep uncontrollably. I watched as Jill led Carla into her house, where she would no doubt succeed in calming her down. That was Jill. I loved her for reasons such as that.

I turned back to Bernie. He lay in the street, moaning and groaning.

“Maybe you’ll think about the next time you want to mess with somebody,” Owen hissed.

I felt sorry for Bernie briefly. He was in the street bleeding, in ripped jeans and a torn shirt, scuffed cowboy boots, and he was crying like a baby. His life was crap. He was crap. He would never again be anything other than that. He was trash. He was pathetic.

“I better never see you over here again. If I even think I see you look toward this house, I’ll kill you. You hear me?” Owen said, with one finger pointing down at Bernie like a dagger. “Never.”

Bernie ignored Owen and continued writhing in the street. Owen walked up the steps and into Carla’s house. I turned to give Bernie one last look before I followed suit. He was slowly crawling toward his house.

I stood over him, leaning down so he could hear me better.

“If you ever make my friend this angry again, or if you ever mess with Carla again, I’ll kill you. Got it?” I thought about kicking him, but figured he was suffering plenty already.

I’d never liked Bernie. I didn’t know anyone who did. Maybe Hazel, the little old lady next door to me, but I don’t even think she liked him. She just always tried to find something good in everyone. I couldn’t imagine that there was any good at all in Bernie. I thought about it for a second, but I couldn’t think of a single thing.

I thought about Owen threatening to kill him. I wondered if he really would if he caught Bernie here again. I remembered the look on Owen’s face and decided that he would. Hell, if Bernie had the balls to break in and defile Carla while Owen was next to her, he deserved to die.

Then, I wondered something I wish had never crossed my mind. If Bernie had enough guts to come in and do whatever he’d done with Owen laying next to Carla, what would he do without Owen there?

40 Bernie

I made my way into the kitchen, where I grabbed two cold beers from the fridge. I sat down carefully in a kitchen chair and popped the top on one of beers. I guzzled it while I placed the other one on my love nub. Who knew the broad could swing like that?

I hoped there was no permanent damage. It felt like it now, but maybe when the swelling went down, it would be fine.

I finished the beer and threw the bottle across the room. I reached up and gently touched the side of my head where blood ran freely from the gash. That damn Owen. A knot the size of a golf ball had risen up from my skull. It stung and throbbed liked a bitch. I hadn’t even seen it coming. I hadn’t had time to duck or throw my arm up or anything. That was fighting dirty.

I hated that damn Owen more now than I ever had before. I wouldn’t have bothered him at all. He could’ve rolled over and let me have at her, and things would’ve been just fine. But no. He had to step in and screw everything up.

I couldn’t help but smile when I thought of it, even though I was in misery. I’d gotten off – finally. And while I was touching her! Even better. It’s not what I’d planned, but it would do.

For now.

But it wouldn’t do forever. I was going to go back over there, no matter what that damn Owen said. He didn’t scare me. And now that I knew he was keeping watch over the broad, I’d be better prepared next time.

And next time, I wasn’t going to settle for a stupid diddling. I wanted it all. I would have her, completely. Tonight might’ve eased the need to have her, but it didn’t erase it. It was still there. The desire to be inside her, to squeeze and bite her flesh...It was almost too much to bear.

I fished her panties out of my pocket. I gave them a good looking-at and them brought them up and buried my face in them. I breathed deeply through my nose, inhaling her scent. I could feel the tingling in my crotch through the pain. I had no doubt there would be a raging hard-on waiting to greet me in the morning.

41 Owen

After things calmed down and everyone left, Carla and I laid on the couch together. She wasn’t ready to go back to the bed yet, and I didn’t blame her. Plus, I wasn’t tired.

I was still seething at Bernie. I didn’t want her to see it, though. I wanted to help her calm down and I couldn’t do that if she saw the fury in my eyes. I pulled it together and lay with her on the couch, talking until she fell asleep. I remained awake, mulling everything over in my mind.

I would never be able to forget the sound of Carla’s voice when she shrieked, as she realized what was happening or the look on Bernie’s face as he spilled his vile seed on her bed.

I would also never forget the way Carla looked when she bashed his groin with the golf club. She was angry and she was standing up for herself. I was proud of her. Had she not had the presence of mind earlier to stash weapons around the house, who knows what would’ve happened? We wouldn’t have had a golf club in the bedroom. I would’ve had to fight Bernie with my fists, which I had no doubt I could easily do. But what if I hadn’t been here tonight? If I hadn’t been here, and she hadn’t thought ahead and put the club in the room, what would’ve happened?

I shuddered at the thought. No doubt, Bernie would’ve raped her. The thought of his filthy body pressed against hers made me want to go next door and finish him. I already hated that he’d touched her. To know what would’ve happened had I not been here made me sick.

I had no doubt that Bernie would want to come back. He’d want to finish what he started. He wanted Carla and this wasn’t enough to satisfy him. But surely what I’d said to him and the beating he’d received was enough to keep him away. I knew that he’d heard in my voice, if not seen on my face, that I was dead serious. But would it be enough? Would it keep him away from Carla?

I doubted it.

I dozed off sometime just before dawn. I awoke when Carla did. She kissed me and got up to start the day, leaving me wondering why I didn’t stay over every night. It felt right waking up with her.

I got up and used the restroom, freshening up before the kids came down. I washed my face and combed my hair, trying to look presentable. I thought briefly about going home and showering and coming back, but the thought of leaving Carla alone scared the hell out of me.

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