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The Almighty has no reason to bail my sorry behind out of my troubles. I walked away years ago. Maybe unintentionally…but I so enjoyed doing things my way.
Yeah, well.
Second chances sound good in theory, but I’ve worked in law enforcement long enough to scoff at the quaint notion of rehabilitation. I’ve seen little to none in my career. I’m thinking that doesn’t bode well for me. Us darned leopards come out with our spots superglued on.
Across the street, a logoed van with satellite equipment on top pulls to the curb of my building. Yep. Mrs. Griffith has it in for me. Seeing me on that balcony gave her her opportunity to mete out revenge. All my neighbors must be hating on me, stealing their privacy for lo these many weeks.
After a minute, the reporter and her cameraman emerge and make a beeline for my front door.
Now would be a good time to clear the area, but I’m reasonably well hidden, so I don’t see any reason not to stick around for a show. Got nothing better to do. When I slide to the opposite end of the bench, I’m partially tucked away by a weeping willow.
“Still living on the edge, I see.”
Jolted, I expect a camera jammed in my face—but the voice registers after a heartbeat’s delay. Tripp towers over me.
A camera crew might have been preferable.
I clam up, forcing an all-encompassing sigh to hunker down. I better get used to a life without privacy. My former friend nosing around my solitude is a warmup. Come five tonight, I’m a fish in a glass bowl.
He steps around me and sits in my warm spot, leaning to watch the show I’ve completely lost interest in. He settles back, and silence creeps in like wet concrete, filling the gaps and hardening fast.
“I don’t want to fight.” I sound weak—but that’s what I am.
“I don’t either.”
Tripp sprawls his arms across the top of the bench. Chirping birds and humming traffic don’t begin to cover the stalemate of silence. He lifts his face to the sun. “Annalise and I talked.”
My gut clenches at the myriad implications.
“She told me how the two of you met.”
I might hurl, but mostly, all my muscles contract in preparation for the inevitable blows. I scratch out a defense. “I never would have…if I’d known...”
“I know you wouldn’t. You’re a loyal friend.”
A change of tune since Lubbock, for sure, but if the best that can be said about me is that I won’t mess with a buddy’s sister, I’m in a bad way. “Yeah, I’m a real prince.”
“She spelled everything out to make sure I understood what you did for her. So, thanks for taking care of her. I’m grateful.”
What I did for Annalise was nothing. Probably my own self-interest on some level. It’s not possible I’m that altruistic.
“To tell you the truth, I’m a whole lot angrier with her than you, going home with a stranger...I mean, what was she thinking?”
I slide my eyes over.
“You think that makes me sexist?”
“Probably.” By definition.
Scratching his head, he sighs. “Guess that’s another thing I have to work on.”
“Another?”
He chuckles. “Avery’s got a whole list going.”
My lips pull, but, call me crazy, I’m not quite ready for backslapping camaraderie quite yet. “That doesn’t sound like Avery.”
Squeezing his neck, Tripp rolls his shoulder. “Yeah. It’s mostly my list.”
