The wheelchair shifts and rolls backwards. My face changes from smug pleasure to terror as I fall, face planting in the carpet. I groan in pain as my leg throbs and my hangover seems to increase tenfold. I’m pissed off, hurting, I have to pee, and I’m sure my face is red from embarrassment.
The last thing I want right now is that bedroom door to open.
I’m sitting in Saddles, nursing a beer and a massive headache.
It sucked, leaving Shannon like that. I feel like such an idiot for bearing my soul that way. Shannon is injured; the last thing she needs or wants is my fucked-up baggage. How does she keep doing this to me? She’s tearing down every barrier I put up. Like a thief in the night, she’s sneaking in, undoing the lock around my heart and worm-crawling her way inside.
And what about Zeke? He’d watched with wide eyes last night when Keets helped me carry Shannon inside. The poor kid has dealt with so much over the past twenty-four hours; another woman in his life is the last thing he needs. I swallow the last mouthful of beer in my glass and look over at the bar, catching Ruth’s eye as I hold up the empty glass. She grins and nods and I lower my arm, putting the glass back on the table. It’s only around 4 p.m. on a Thursday, but regulars are already starting to trickle into the bar, ready for a night of music and fun. I have to say, I’m impressed with the way Shannon runs the place. Everyone seems to know everyone else, and they look out for one another as only true friends can do.
The door of the bar opens and I glance up to see an absurdly dressed woman enter, bringing with her a cloud of sickly sweet perfume that has me ducking my head to avoid the smell, making my headache worse. My face is tilted down toward my empty glass, but my eyes are raised as she saunters over to the bar. The hot pink leggings she’s wearing are stretched impossibly thin across her large ass.
Ruth walks over with a fresh beer, putting the glass down on the table with a small smile. “How’s Shannon?” she asks. I pick up the glass and swallow about half of the beer, putting it back down on the table as I wipe my mouth with the back of my free hand. “She’s all right,” I answer, still looking over at the woman by the bar. She’s laughing at something Keets is saying, but he looks mighty uncomfortable. He points in our direction and the woman turns, a huge smile covering her face as she walks our way. I indicate toward the bar with my head. “Who’s that?” I ask.
Ruth follows my gaze. “Urgh,” she groans. “That’s Effie. The town gossip. Brace yourself.”
“Why?” I ask, an amused grin on my face. But she doesn’t get the chance to answer.
“Ethan,” Effie purrs. I look up and see the hot-pink lady standing directly in front of me. I give her a smile and gesture to the seat next to her. She leans over as she sits, and her large breasts almost spill out of her white tank top. I’m not certain, but I suspect she meant for it to happen. “I’ve heard so much about you,” she says, flashing me a grin. I grin back, but it’s not for the reason she thinks. Her teeth are smeared with bright pink lipstick.
“I wish I could say the same,” I respond graciously, glancing up at Ruth who’s standing there with an ‘I told you so’ smirk on her face. Effie notices me looking at Ruth and turns her face up toward the young bartender. “Can I help you?” she asks coldly, gesturing toward me. “We’re kind of in the middle of something here.” Ruth raises her eyebrows at me, and I give her a gentle smile and nod my head.
“All right, I can take a hint,” she says with a laugh. “My shift is over, anyway. I might head on over and check on Shan, if that’s all right?”
“Of course.” Why wouldn’t I say yes?
“Great.” She smiles, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder as she passes behind me. “See you later, Effie,” she calls over her shoulder as she opens the front door and exits the bar.
I turn back to Effie with a smile. “Effie, is it?” I ask, raising my glass to her. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Oh, no thank you, sugar,” she gushes. “I just wanted to meet the handsome soldier who bedded our little Shannon.”
I almost spit out my beer. My eyebrows shoot up toward my hairline and I quickly put down my glass as a coughing fit overcomes me for a moment. “E-excuse me?” I ask. My chest burns and tears fill my eyes as I continue coughing.
“Oh, come on now, honey,” Effie says, ignoring my discomfort. “There’s no need to be embarrassed. We’re all friends here.”
I reach desperately for my glass and swallow a few mouthfuls of beer. By the time I pull it away from my mouth, I’m gasping for breath, but the coughing has stopped. “I’m not sure it’s really any of your business,” I tell her, still gasping.
Effie grins. That damn lipstick stain is so distracting. “Well, see, that’s where you’re wrong.”
I don’t particularly like the way she says that. “What do you mean?”
“We’re a small town,” Effie says, leaning forward conspiratorially. “News travels fast around here. Now, what you do in your own home is your own business, but word is you have a wife and a brat. Let’s face it; Shannon’s ex-boyfriend left a bad taste in all our mouths. She’s a pretty little thing, but not exactly the brightest crayon in the box, if you know what I mean.”
If this were a cartoon, steam would be coming out of my ears, I’m that angry. I slowly rise from the table, being careful to keep my voice low as I lean over it, looking her straight in the eye. “Listen,” I start, enjoying a brief moment of satisfaction as she recoils from my venomous look. “You’re right. What I do in my own home is my own business. My personal life is just that - personal. So I’ll thank you to stay out of it.”
“Well,” Effie sputters indignantly, getting clumsily to her feet. “There’s no need to be rude about it. Just remember, it’s not just your reputation at stake here. Maybe you should ask Shannon about her father.” I watch as she makes her way out of the bar, my hands clenched into fists by my sides.
“Are you okay?” Keets asks, magically appearing next to me, a new beer in his hand. I gratefully accept it and take a long swallow before I speak. “Is she always like that?” I ask, slowly sitting back down, shaking my head in amazement.
“Pretty much.” Keets laughs, sitting backwards on the seat opposite me, leaning his forearms on the back of the chair. “How’s Shannon feeling?”
I groan and swallow another mouthful of beer before placing the glass down on the table. “I don’t know,” I state, my brow creasing. “I can only assume she wasn’t exactly pleased by the situation.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Keets says with a grin, picking my beer up and swallowing a mouthful. I wait for him to place it back on the table, but it remains in his hand as he sits there staring at the wall behind me, seemingly deep in thought.
“What?” I grumble, staring at my beer. My fingers itch to snatch it back, and I curl them into my hand hard enough to feel the nails pierce the skin of my palm.
“I need to ask you something, but you have to promise not to get upset or hit me.”
I raise my eyebrows, a small smile appearing on my face. “Go on.”
“Why didn’t you sign the divorce papers?”
I let out a loud sigh and slump against the table, resting on my forearms. “I don’t know,” I admit. “I wish I did, but . . .”
“But?” Keets prompts.
“I guess I was just so angry that I wasn’t thinking clearly at the time. I kept telling myself it wasn’t true, that my wife wouldn’t leave me just for trying to keep my country safe . . . for trying to keep her safe.” I swallow past a sudden lump in my throat, and Keets finally hands back my beer. I gulp a mouthful and put the glass down on the table, clearing my throat.
“I guess she didn’t see it that way. I tore the divorce papers up and promised myself I’d work on my marriage when I got home.