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“He drew one word in dripping red.” She paused. The silence was deafening. “He drew, ‘YOU’,” she continued.
“Where is this painting?” I asked.
“It’s still high in the tree in my front yard. I couldn’t reach it. I was hoping you would get rid of it for me. I can’t let my parents see that Elliott. They’d leave Bramwell over something like that.”
I slammed my fists on the cushions and let the boiling blood rush over my body. I didn’t want Jules to touch me. I didn’t want to calm down. I wanted the rage. I stood up slowly and walked to the front door. I grabbed my keys from its hook and swung on my jacket with the wool lining. If I need to, I thought, I could swing easily in this jacket. I dug my hands in to the pockets and felt for the pocket knife I usually kept in it.
“Where are you going Elliott?” Jules asked seriously.
“To take that painting down babe,” I spoke over my shoulder.
“I’m coming with you,” she said.
“No, you’re not,” I said then checked myself, “I mean, you’ve been through enough don’t you think? I’ll be right back. Promise.”
I turned toward her and smiled. I never would have left without kissing her had I not wanted to keep the explosion at a breaking point until I saw him and the thoughts to myself.
I turned back toward the door and pushed it open. I ran for my truck and slid into the driver’s seat. I turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life. I was so on edge, I actually jumped. I threw it in reverse and sped out of the gravel driveway next to the barn and onto the paved road. Dust billowed up, camouflaging the house.
If Jules was watching from the door I couldn’t tell and that bothered me. I stopped short on the road and waited for the dust to settle. She was at the door, her palm resting on the glass. She gazed severely into my eyes trying to read my thoughts. Her eyes grew wide with realization.
“No,” she mouthed.
She threw the door open and ran toward the road but I sped away from her before she could reach me. Her horrified stare grilled into me like a sunburn and I very nearly turned around. She ran back to the house, I assumed, to call my Uncle Danny but I didn’t care. I would get there before he would.
I pulled up to the Thomas house not three minutes later. I ran up their walkway and pounded furiously on their door. I plunged my hands into jacket pocket and held my pocket knife with my right hand. Jesse answered the door and he didn’t look surprised, at all. His storm door creaked open and he stepped onto his porch.
“Well, well, well. Look what the cat drug in. To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked sarcastically, with the most smug expression across his nauseating face.
I wasn’t even going to humor him. I pulled my right hand with the pocket knife in my fist out and braced myself for what would happen next but I couldn’t do it.
I kept the knife in my hand to add extra weight to the punch I planned instead and cocked my hand back. I swung and hit him with all the force I possibly could. Blood began to trickle out of the corners of his mouth before he even hit the ground. I stuck the knife back into my pocket, deciding against murder for that day and steadily strolled back to my truck. I was back with Jules in less than ten minutes.
“What happened?” She asked, tears streaming from her face.
“Nothing really.”
“Nothing? I don’t believe that. I can see the bruise on your knuckles from here Elliott. What happened?”
“I punched him.”
“You punched him?” She asked, skeptical.
“Just once and then he slumped to the wood floor of his porch with a satisfying thud.”
“Elliott!”
“Jules, he’s lucky I didn’t do more.”
“Oh? You planned on what? Killing him? That’s a dandy plan. I can barely handle a few hours without touching you as it is. I can just imagine visiting you in prison, a thick piece of glass holding us back. I’d go insane. Killing him would mean slowly killing me Elliott.
“Had you thought about that? This is the first time you’ve ever been so selfish you forgot about me Elliott and I’m begging you to stop. My heart is breaking.”
I grabbed Jules and brought her head to my chest.
“Oh Jules, I’m so sorry. Really. Please forgive me love.”
She sobbed into my shirt. I imagine, releasing all the pent up hurt and anger she felt toward the situation in one good cry. I began to carry her to the sofa when the doorbell rang. I froze, as did Jules.
