“Yeah. Storms knock it over every now and then, but I make sure it goes back up. Got vandalized once, but Creed repainted it.”
“Did you find out who did it?”
“No. Probably just some kids.”
“Oh.” If I’d come up on them desecrating her cross, I would not have been responsible for my actions.
“Tyson.”
“What?” I stare resolutely out the window.
“I came to see you.”
“I know.”
“Bear wouldn’t let me in.”
“I know that too.”
“Said you didn’t want to see me.”
“I didn’t.”
“You stayed away.”
That old familiar anger rises, and I catch his eye in the rearview mirror. “What’s your point?”
He shrugged. “Merely stating fact.”
“How’s your wife, Dom? How’s Stacey?” My voice is mocking and my words are meant to hurt, but as soon as they leave my mouth, I want to take them back. Desperately. My heart thuds in my ears. This is not who I am. I’m over this. I am done with this.
Obviously, it laughs.
“That the best you’ve got?” he asks me. “That it? Go for it. I can take it. If it makes you feel better, then you say whatever you want.”
“Fuck you, Dominic.” I slam my hand against the metal grille separating the front and the backseat. It stings, but I ignore it.
“Oh, that hurts,” he says with a short laugh. “Look at you! Big man. Learn that in college?”
“Sure,” I say. “Right after I got your wedding invitation. You know, the one you didn’t tell me about? The one you tried to keep from me? Yeah, that’s the only reason you called me that day, isn’t it? You found out it’d been mailed, and you tried to stop me from finding out.”
“I came for you,” he says again.
“Why?”
“Because you’re—” He stops. Shakes his head. “You’re you,” he says simply.
“Great. That clears up a whole hell of a lot. Thank you, Dominic. Thank you for that. Thank you for this lovely day. If you don’t mind, I’d like to go home now.”
“No. Not until I’ve had my say.”
It starts to rain. Just a light mist, really. Enough to cause the windows to streak with water. But for some reason, it compounds upon everything happening in this car that has suddenly turned stifling. I can feel my throat constricting and the car starts to shake. That old familiar wave rises over me and I think, Hello, there. Hello, old friend. I haven’t seen you in, what? A few days?
“Then talk,” I manage to say. I try to roll down the window to get some air, but this is a cop car. There’s no button. No handle. I’m trapped in here.
You can do this, I tell myself. You know how to do this.
You can, Bear says. This is easy.