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Redmond couldn’t understand—couldn’t wrap his head around the words with the renewed layers of grief pounding down on him as Dale shouted into the line about Redmond fucking his wife. He didn’t look at another woman for years after Claire’s death, so to insinuate that he’d forgotten about her so soon… For Dale to insinuate that Redmond hadn’t remained faithful to Claire’s memory sent a fury through him.
Redmond saw Kaitlyn sitting on the couch beside him. He felt her small, cool hands wrapped around his bicep as he flung himself to his feet. But everything within him felt muddled. His love for Kaitlyn became buried beneath the grief and devastation that the phone call brought upon him. He knew, instinctively, that he needed to get away from her.
“I didn’t touch your fucking wife,” Redmond snarled into the phone, his voice quieter and more deadly than he’d ever heard it. He watched, but couldn’t feel, as Kaitlyn jumped back and crept around him, leaving him alone in the sitting room, the game blaring. He couldn’t hear it. All he could hear was the breathing on the other end of the line.
“You’re going to know how it feels to lose your whole fucking world after you took away mine,” Dale shouted into the line.
“You already took my fucking world from me,” Redmond roared. “You walked into that store and pulled a gun. You pointed it at the fucking ceiling and told everyone to get down. When I finally made it back to Claire, I watched as you pointed your gun at her head and pulled the trigger. You killed her. You took away the thing that mattered most to me, and you have no fucking shame.”
Redmond’s ears rushed with the blood of his anger, muffling Dale’s voice on the other end of the line. He ran toward the window and started kicking over plants. Clay pots shattered against the floor, but his anger knew no bounds. Kaitlyn’s screaming in the background faded into nothing as he unleashed his anger on the only tangible thing that would shatter in the room.
“You fucking killed my fiancée. You ended her life. Youdidtake everything from me.” Finally, Redmond fell to the floor beside dozens of shattered pots, dirt strewn across the floor. “Everything,” he whispered, a tear falling down his face as the roaring in his ears dulled. He preferred that rage to the unquenchable sadness.
“That’s not all I’m going to take from you. Until you have nobody and nowhere to turn, I’m not going to stop.” Dale’s voice wound through him and gripped all hope and regrowth he’d experienced in the past few years, crushing it all into oblivion.
Dale ended the call.
Redmond remained on his knees as he dropped his phone, unable to move as he heard Kaitlyn talking, seemingly to someone on her small, pink cellphone that she carried everywhere. Redmond couldn’t bring himself to care as he continued to sit there in silence. Images of Claire rushed through his mind. Her smile. Her snorting laughter. The partial skull that remained once Dale pulled the trigger. He’d seen men die. He’d watched as a human body turned into chunks. But the memory of half of her head flying into aisle two while the rest of her fell to the floor beside the cashier with a wet thud would never leave him. He’d never recover from that.
It could have been hours or minutes before his front door crashed open and Courtney’s loud voice rang through the house.
He finally looked up, distracted by the new presence in the house. He first saw Kaitlyn sitting on the floor across the room, knees curled to her chest as she sobbed. Then Courtney entered the room with a murderous gleam in her eyes. Her attention turned to her daughter on the ground, sobbing and shaking.
“You’re never going to see her again,” Courtney roared at Redmond as she lifted Kaitlyn into her arms. For a small woman, Courtney hardly seemed to struggle with Kaitlyn’s seven-year-old weight as she cradled their daughter into her bosom.
“Court…” His voice was raspy, his voice clearly overexerted with the shouting he’d done into the phone.
In front of Kaitlyn.
“I told you what would happen if you did this in front of her. You’re not going to ruin her life. I know that you love her. But Red, love isn’t enough when you’re this messed up. It didn’t work with us, and I’m not going to put her in this position.”
“He called me,” Redmond tried to explain, finally realizing how horrible the situation looked. “Dale.”
“I don’t care if Satan himself called you. You did this”—she gestured to the room— “in front of her. We’re done here.”
Courtney left the room, taking Kaitlyn with her. His daughter’s sobbing followed them out of the house, and Redmond watched through his window as they loaded into the car and drove away. He couldn’t bring himself to stand as the weight on his shoulders held him down.
The trashed room around him did nothing more than remind him of the unbearable grief he hadn’t realized remained so close to the surface.
He needed to do something.
He needed a distraction.
7
Chelsea had assumed that her time with Redmond ended after three weeks of no contact. She’d thought about all the ways she could get away with seeing him again without coming across as pushing him into a decision, but she decided against all options. She didn’t need to plead for a man. Chelsea was an attractive woman, a goddess in the sack, and she knew she was worth more than waiting for someone who didn’t seem interested.
But when the text message came through her phone, and Redmond marked himself as the sender, Chelsea couldn’t help but be curious.
This is Red. I need a distraction.
She twiddled with the case of her phone before taking a deep breath and texting back.
What kind of distraction?
The response was immediate, relaying nothing more than his address. She could have taken the message in a myriad of different ways, but she knew better. Chelsea considered saying no and maintaining the little class she had left after chasing him for nearly a month, but she couldn’t help it. The thought ofdistractinghim sent spears of excitement through her.
Should she set rules before going?
