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“Ray that’s enough.”
He pushed me to the side and headed straight for Brody.
“Don't be rough with her,” Brody stated, squaring himself up against Ray.
“I'll treat her any damn way I want. Let's be clear, Brody, you're not taking my girl, we discussed this already.” His loud booming voice vibrated through the house. He approached Brody, his fists clenched at his side. When he was within reach, Ray threw the first punch, slamming his fist right through the wall behind Brody as he ducked out of the way. I let out a loud scream. I watched as Brody slammed his fist into Ray's stomach, causing Ray to buckle over.
“I'm not taking your girl, Ray,” Brody said through clenched teeth. “I won't have to because you're going to drive her away yourself.”
Ray stood up and took another shot at Brody, completely missing again, this time throwing his whole body into the little table that sat at the end of the couch. The table went flying over onto its side along with the lamp and my picture of me and Jackson I still hadn't put back into my bedroom. When it hit the floor, the irreplaceable frame shattered into pieces.
“GET OUT!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. Both men stopped in their tracks. Ray looked over at me and saw the tears pouring down my face, then looked down at the broken frame.
“Cass, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do this.”
“Yeah, but you did it. Get out, be on your way, I'll see you in a couple weeks.” I opened the door and held it open for him. I'd had enough.
He looked to Brody, then back to me as he got up off the floor, steadying himself as he walked toward me. He placed his hand on my arm.
“I'm sorry, please, let's just talk.”
I couldn't look at him, I kept my eyes on Brody who stood, clenching and unclenching his fists, his jaw tight as he watched every move Ray made, ready to pounce if he laid another hand on me, especially to hurt me.
“Cass, please.”
I turned my back to him. “Just go.” I mumbled.
He stood there for a couple more minutes, taking me in, probably hoping I would change my mind, and when I didn't, he walked out the front door, head hung low. I slammed the door behind him and locked it. I stood staring down at the remains of the shattered frame Jackson had bought me for a wedding gift, something I could never replace. My favorite picture of us lay on the ground, torn.
I bent down, tears streaming down my face as I picked up all the pieces of the broken frame and placed them into a little bowl that sat on the table.
* * *
Brody
I didn't knowwhat tosay to her as I stood and watched her carefully lay every broken piece, large or small into that bowl. The bastard had out-and-out attacked me once again, for no reason, and after witnessing him shove her, he was lucky to be walking out of here unharmed. Cass stood there, her hand over her mouth, crying at the mess in front of her. I remembered when Jackson had given her that frame. It had been an early wedding gift for their wedding photo, but she had changed the photo up after he had passed.
I couldn't stand to hear her crying. I knelt behind her and placed my hands on her shoulders, hesitant at first to touch her. I wasn't sure she would even want me near her. She didn't move at first, but then she turned into me, clinging to me like I was the last thing she had in this world. I just held her, letting her cry.
“I'm so sorry.”
I pulled back so I could look at her. “What are you sorry for?”
“Him, all of this. Believing the lies that he told me tonight.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That you and he got into it down at Carl’s because you were provoking him and spewing horrible things about me.”
“I see, well that's okay. I'm tough. You, on the other hand, don't seem so tough.” In one quick motion, I picked her up and carried her over to the couch. I placed her down in her favorite spot and picked up her wine glass from the table, handing it to her. I then took the blanket she had been rolled in earlier and covered her.
Once she was settled, I went into the kitchen and grabbed the bag of skinny popcorn from the cupboard, poured half the bag into a great big bowl, put the kettle on for tea, and grabbed two mugs from the cupboard.
“Do you think you could make me a tea, please?” I heard her broken, tear-ladened voice call.
“Already on it.” It took me a couple of minutes, but I came into the living room carrying a tray with two steaming mugs of tea and a big bowl of popcorn. “Now, I'm going to warn you, I'm a popcorn hog, and you'll have to fight me for it,” I winked at her. Finally, I could see the corners of her mouth turn up into a small smile.
“I'll fight you for it.” She let out a tiny laugh and pulled her legs up, so she was sitting cross-legged and patted the seat beside her.
