Next Door Hater (Love Under Lockdown)

“That’s fine, when do you need me to be there?”

“Just after six is fine.”

“See you then.”

I should have known from previous experience, no matter how good things seemed to get, it was almost always a set for a cosmic curb-stomping.

The lights came first. Unmistakable blues and reds. They didn’t even have the sirens sounding. They didn’t have to. The lights were enough to let all evil doers know they’d better lie low.

The cops had come to the store after the incident. Following the ambulance to the hospital to be on hand when trigger-happy Johnny came around. I hadn’t hurt him that badly really, most of the blood was from superficial wounds, heads bleeding a surprising amount from the smallest things.

They assured me, after viewing the security footage, it was clearly a case of self-defense, helped no end by fact he’d actually pointed a loaded gun at me before I battered him with it. It was unlikely any charges would be brought. Unlikely wasn’t the same as saying no.

It was a hard fact but true. Of all the people in the world, at least whom I’d already met, there were exactly two who would conceivably miss me, for something other than their own personal reasons.

The coach and team would be miffed about losing their first-string Running Back, the school falling to pieces at the subsequent loss of their record. The second-string was a nice kind but would have trouble catching a beach ball. He was really only on the team because he was the coach’s nephew.

Other than that, the greatest affect my incarceration could have would be on my dad, who was doing fine without me before I moved back, and Elise. She would miss me, and the feeling would be mutual. On the upside, depending how long I got, not too long with the circumstances, even if Mr. Beefy died, there was a good chance she would wait for me. A silver lining to every problem.

“Dad?”

“Stay back, son.”

The three police officers cuffing him was a good deterrent, but it was nice that he cared. Even if the rest of the scene was completely confounding. What the hell was going on?

“Stay right there,” one of the cops said, as the other two took Dad outside.

“Planning to,” I said, making sure my hands could be seen.

The beat echoed in my ears. It was like my heart was crammed in my cranium and still knew how to pound. Every skill of calm detachment I’d ever learned stretched to the limit. Hanging by a single thread. Keeping me just on the right side of a beating, incarceration no longer on the cards. Unless I went and did something really stupid.

Sanity reigned, at least for the cops hauling off my dad without a shred of resistance from either him or me. Fortunately for everyone involved. If that darkness had risen in me again, there would be no way to avoid much death. At least one of them mine. Elise and Sara too if I was really unfortunate. The scenario played out behind my eyes, holding me well in place.

When the cops were gone, the need for fresh air sudden and demanding. My breath heaved as I gulped it down. Each new inhalation easier than the last, regular function slowly, seeping in like mist under the door.

The cops weren’t alone. Another car decorated the other side

of the duplex in morbidly festive Christmas colors, a forensic vehicle joining it in the overcrowded driveway. Elise was fine, she had to be. I’d just seen her. Sara on the other hand, or Dad for that matter…

Impulse screamed to run. Get over there and see what the hell was going on. Fortunately, I was a bit smarter than that. The cops were still there and would no doubt notice. Especially if the other side of the duplex had turned into a crime scene. There was no obvious damage to Dad, but that didn’t mean anything. Even less obvious was the motive. He hadn’t clobbered the kids the night before. What could Sara do that would set him off? It didn’t make any sense.

Getting through the gap, I went to Elise’s door. There was no answer and a new fear hit. The mystery almost too much to bear.

They were in the kitchen. Sat round the table, serious as anything. Each with a cup of coffee from the pot Elise brewed.

“What’s going on?”

“You tell me,” Sara said, all the kindness drained out of her.

“What do you mean?”

“I had no idea Hank was such a thug. Don’t even try to deny it. I saw him with that baseball bat. The bloody clothes.”

Her words processed slowly, my brain still kicking into gear.

“Hank wouldn’t do that, Mom,” Elise objected.

“Oh, honey. I know you liked him, but you don’t know what men can be like. Besides, you’re the one who warned me about him.”