Out of the Blue

She'd changed the locks. It was my fucking house! Bitch!

I took 3 paces back and breathed deeply, oxygenating my blood. Then I took two steps forward and stopped quickly, allowing the full force of my right heel to hit the lock. 270lbs of weight, plus my kinetic energy had the desired effect. The lock splintered, as I figured it would.

Sure, we had a reasonable lock, but a lock's only as good as what it's bolted to, which was a flimsy piece of wood. The door smashed into the hallway wall and bounced back. I pushed through it, snarling.

"JENNY?!" I growled.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She shouted.

"It's my fucking house!" I tossed back incredulously.

"You vacated it when you went to work this afternoon." She squeaked.

Just then, Officer Friendly decided to turn up, blipping his siren behind me. Fuck.

Jenny came out, smirking.

"What're you gonna do Paul?" She taunted. I could hear heavy boots coming up the path.

I swung my right fist in a vicious arc, breaking the plaster an inch from Jenny's suddenly terrified face. I heard the metallic slide and click that could only signal one thing.

"GET ON THE GROUND!" Screamed the decidedly female cop.

I obliged, placing my hands behind my head once on the floor. She cuffed me and dragged me up, roughly, pulling me down the path whilst Mirandizing me and throwing me into the back of her Crown Vic. She went back to the house, apparently taking a statement from Jenny.

I breathed deeply, trying to purge the excess adrenaline from my system. I couldn't believe I'd gone to hit the smug bitch. It was only at the last second I'd pushed wide. I guess in this battle of nature versus nurture, nature won. Bigtime.

I took in the smell of vanilla and hot circuit boards, and looked towards the house. The cop seemed to be talking heatedly with Jenny, silhouetted by the light from the hallway. I couldn't be bothered to process why. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back.

Nothing I could do now.

--

I spent my alone time in the back of the car thinking about my next steps. I knew I needed to get my lawyer involved with the new developments, but my head was fried. I couldn't really envision my life without Jenny. As much as we'd been on the rocks and I'd postured with the papers, I knew deep down I hadn't intended to do it. I liked to think I'd have had the balls but there's only so much you can convince yourself when you didn't perform the action.

I was brought back to reality when the cop opened the door and slid into her seat, slamming it closed.

"So, you get off hitting women do you, scumbag?" She sneered. "You know, people like you make me fucking sick."

I kept quiet. I knew enough people that had got into pissing matches with cops and found themselves 'falling' down flights of stairs, or hitting their face on walls when they 'tripped'. She looked at me with disdain for another few seconds then started the cruiser.

--

As we drove towards the Sheriff's department she kept trying to talk to me. It started off nice then got nasty.

"You wanna tell me what happened there?" She asked gently. I guess she saw the tears.

I was more like my dear old dad than I'd ever thought. I'd never raised my fist at a woman in my life, not even in jest, and I'd just taken a swing at a woman I loved.

I kept silent.

"Listen, you know that I saw what happened right? Which means I only have what I saw to go off since neither you nor your wife will speak to me. That means you'll probably get booked for breaking and entering, along with attempted assault. You look like that wasn't supposed to happen, so help me out here."

I kept silent.

Around a minute later she broke the silence again. This time it was much more aggressive.

"Okay, let me level with you here." I looked at the profile of her face in the glow of the dials. Prominent cheekbones were the first thing I noticed.

She glanced in the mirror.

"Stop that! You son of a bitch, I'm gonna throw the fucking book at you. That what you're into? Other women when you're married?"

I kept silent.

She didn't speak again, and I kept my eyes out of the window.

--

I was booked in, under suspicion of breaking and entering and attempted assault. She kept it at that, so I didn't get anything under disturbing the peace. The breaking and entering was a piece of cake given it was my name on the mortgage. I was slightly more worried about the attempted assault.

The cop that brought me in took me to a cell. In the harsh lights of the cells I saw she was actually very pretty, with red hair and a light dusting of freckles, along with smokey gray eyes. She was also only around an inch or two shorter than me, pegging her at around 6 feet tall.

"You're gonna be in here all night Mr. Benson, I'm about to finish my shift, and technically you're homeless in my eyes. Get some rest and we'll talk about it tomorrow."

I stretched out on the uncomfortable mattress thing they put in those bunks, and slept fitfully, dreaming about my dad and what he did to both me, my brother and my mother.

--

I awoke, and immediately felt the need to call my brother. Lee was 3 years older than me, and used to try to protect me from my father's venom. More often than not he got hurt just as much as I did, given that my father's drunken rage was never satiated.

Lee was currently in San Francisco, working at some technology start up. He's a seriously bright guy. I mean, I'm not slow, but comparing me to him is like comparing Forrest Gump to Einstein. And I can't even fucking run, so I don't have that over him. Sure, I had the business acumen, and the math, but he had the science and the computer knowledge that put him in Bill Gates/ Steve Jobs land.

I decided to call him when I got out.

--

The same cop from yesterday came and got me from my cell and took me to an interview room. She followed me in immediately which I thought was odd, given that most cops like to put their suspects on edge by leaving them sitting on their own. I guessed she thought after a night on my own I'd have been enough on edge to open a razor factory.

I sat on the uncomfortable metal chair, and she pointed to a container of coffee on the table. I poured some into a Styrofoam container.

"Could you confirm that you've had your rights read to you, and you understand them, please?" She asked.

"I understand them and have had them read to me." I replied emotionlessly.

She opened a brown paper file and took a pen out of her breast pocket. I noticed the name badge: Deputy Lindsay.

"Okay, I'm Deputy Emily Lindsay; can you confirm your full name for me please?"

I hesitated, unwilling to play these games. She flicked those gray eyes up to my eyes, and my will vanished.

"Paul Ian Benson"

--

We rattled off the usual preliminaries and I told her my tale. She looked at me sympathetically and closed the file.

"Mr. Benson, -"

"Paul."

"Paul, whilst I sympathize with your current situation, you must understand that if you behave in that manner again I will not hesitate to charge you under every single crime I can find that fits, do I make myself clear? I won't proceed today, given that I feel you were under a great deal of emotional strain, but please heed my warning." She said neutrally.

"Yes, officer." I replied dully.

"...Emily."

"Emily, can I ask you a question?" I asked.

"Sure." She replied guardedly.

"Have you ever heard the song Don't Go Away Mad (Just Go Away) by Motley Crue?"

"Yeah." She couldn't hide the curiosity in her face.

"Well that's how I feel at the moment."

"Might I make a suggestion, Paul?"

"Go for it."

"I suggest you go and see a professional whilst you deal with this. I know how much it hurts."

--

She let me go, and I had the short walk back to my old house to contend with in a driving fine rain. By the time I dropped into the Cadillac's cold leather I was absolutely soaked. I turned on the motor, and cranked the heat up to the max. I clasped my seatbelt and put my foot down, cranking up 'Too Young to fall in Love' by Motley Crue. I have a strange obsession with them, as a band. Their music just seems to fit all of life's moods.

I pulled into the parking lot at the bar and parked. I rubbed my eyes and sighed.

--

I walked into the bar and coughed. Claire looked at me frankly.

"Where the hell did you disappear to last night Paul Benson?" She asked reproachfully. I walked over to the jukebox and selected Caliban's cover of High Hopes by Pink Floyd.

She continued staring at me, until I walked behind the bar and slid the manila envelope over to her.

She gasped as she read it, then came over and wrapped me in her arms. All of a sudden, I felt drained. I closed my eyes tightly and let out a quick sob. Then the flood gates opened and I started crying like a baby. Pretty soon I was exhausted, and broke the hug.

"Sorry, it's just caught up to me." I said, hoarsely. I grabbed a Red Bull and drank the whole thing in five seconds. I then spied the tequila and drank a shot. Caffeine to wake me up, tequila to dull the edge.

I sat there thinking until the Friday night crowd started drifting in at around six o'clock. I gave Mark a call to ask if he could work for double time. He was happy as hell, and I knew he needed the money. Chris and Kate strolled in and got set up, whilst Claire was stocking everything up. By all accounts it should be a busy night. Just the thing I needed to take my mind off my problems.

I walked back over to the jukebox and selected 'Amour' by Rammstein and 'Global Warming' by Gojira, then set the box to play at random after. I walked into the kitchen and flicked the grills and fryers on, along with the fans. Mark rolled up as I was doing this so I left him to it, heading back out to the bar and grabbing a beer.

Here With Me by Dido came on and I immediately rejected the song, forcing the jukebox to select another.

The jukebox selected Runaway Train by Yashin. I smiled and took a pull on my beer. I then realized that Chris and Kate were getting swamped, so I headed behind the bar to help serve. Tonight was going to be a good night, I could feel it.

--

The band turned up around half seven and started to set up. I moved through the throngs of people to go and rescue my guitar. The lead guitarist from the band was touching her up. I have a replica Lucille (Yes, the BB King Lucille) and I'm remarkably protective of it. I should be, given that Gibson saw fit to charge me a fucking mint for it. I rescued her from a very disappointed looking lead guitarist and put her in the upstairs office with my divorce papers, under lock and key. I'd decided to crash up there tonight, given that Claire had put a full bedroom suite up there in one of the empty rooms when she moved out of her house briefly.

The jukebox flicked over to "Waking the Demon" by Bullet for My Valentine. I smiled again.

"How're you doin' buddy?!" I turned and saw my regular Ben grinning at me. I shook his hand.

"Not so bad man, how about you?"

"Ah, I'll be even better if some of this tail sees fit to let me have a crack!" He laughed.

"Of you? You must be joking. Have you ever heard of a shave?" I joked.

"It's stubble man, 'sposed to be trendy."

"If looking like you've not had a grasp of personal grooming for a few days is the look you're going for then you're really pulling it off."

"Fuck off." He laughed again. "Get you a drink?" He asked, spying the bottle I'd just drained.

"Sure man."

"I've never seen you drink before." He observed.

"Oh, you're about to."

I grabbed two beers, a bottle of bourbon and two shot glasses and stood at the bar.

"You ready?" I asked, pouring two shots out. He knew what I was up to when I grabbed both the bottle and the glass.

"Born ready."

We quickly swallowed the bourbon and drained the bottles. He still had half a bottle left after I'd demolished mine.

"Holy shit man, you lookin' to get wrecked?" He asked, astonished.

"Yeah, maybe. I'll catch you later anyway man."

"Don't you want paying for these beers?"

"Forget about it." I replied, grabbing the empties and the bourbon.

By that point the band had finished the set up and sound check, so we dimmed the center lights and lit the stage lights.

As they played the opening bars to Wild Side by Motley Crue, I was more convinced than ever tonight was going to be brilliant. I didn't know how though.

--

My answer came in the form of a flash of red. I just caught it out of the corner of my eyes, as I was winding the kitchen down and re-assigning Mark to the bar area. Like I said, he needed the money. I flicked everything off, and left the cleaning until tomorrow as per usual. I killed the lights and closed the kitchen doors, locking them behind me. The last thing I need was a drunken customer going in and hurting themselves. My bar staff were moving a mile a minute, so I stepped in to alleviate some of the backlog. I came face to face with the most drop-dead gorgeous woman I had ever seen.

She smiled at me, giving me the kind of smile that could stop time. I smiled back, and had to avert my gaze from those smoldering eyes.

"What can I get you Officer?" I asked.

"What do you recommend Paul?" She asked back.

"Well that depends on what you usually drink, but I'd say a beer and a shot of either bourbon or tequila."

"Sure, sounds good."

"Which one?"

"Whichever you're having and one for me. That is, as long as you're joining me."

Those eyes, again. I couldn't refuse.

"Sure, give me a second." I replied, measuredly.

"Stop playing puppy eyes and give me some fucking help!" Chris shouted at me, breaking the spell of those eyes.

I looked at him and grinned. He laughed.

"Come on man, we need your help, Claire's nowhere to be seen." He added.

--

I raced through the crowd at the bar in less than five minutes which I think is some kind of world record, just so I could get back to those eyes.

I grabbed two beers and my bottle of tequila, along with two shot glasses and walked over to where Emily was stood.

The band launched into a blistering rendition of Achilles Last Stand by Led Zeppelin.

As I moved through the crowd I spied Emily and another woman stood at a table in the center of the room, along with Ben who was trying to talk to Emily. If I'm honest it looked like he was having about as much success with that as a chocolate condom would with sex.

She saw me approaching, and turned away from Ben, leaving him looking like he might cry. I lifted the beers and tequila up. She smiled a smile that almost knocked me over. I got to the table and pulled two more beers and shot glasses out of my pockets.

"Always come prepared, huh?" She remarked.

"Absolutely, you never know when a shot of the good stuff will be necessary." I replied, grinning.

Ben perked up when he saw I had drinks for everyone.

"Paul, this is Alison." Introduced Emily.

"Nice to meet you Alison, have you met Ben? Despite his strange tendencies towards facial hair he's actually a nice guy." I half grinned at Ben whilst shaking Alison's hand.

"Will you shut up about the beard? It looks good!" He indignantly replied.

"Honey, it doesn't." Alison interjected.

"No, it doesn't." Emily agreed.

"There you have it." I laughed.

"However, shave it off and you could be quite handsome, honey. Wanna dance?" She asked him. He looked slightly put out that he wasn't getting Emily, but quickly agreed figuring something was better than nothing.

He took her hand and they threaded their way towards the dance floor.

"Well, that's got rid of them." I laughed.

"I suppose it has. Listen, though, is he really a decent guy? She's had a bad time with a boyfriend, so I think she's looking for someone to lean on at the moment." She asked concernedly.

"Yeah, relax, he is. He's the lead welder at McAdam. Ever heard of the Foster's?" I asked.

"As in the ex-mayor Foster?" I had piqued her curiosity.

"Yep, that's his son." I replied.

"So she'll be okay?"

"100%"

Without further ado, she poured all four glasses of tequila and said "Bottoms up".

We quickly knocked them back, along with the beers.

"I'm gonna go for a smoke, you wanna join me?" She asked, almost shyly.

"Absolutely." I replied, setting off towards the door.

--

As I inhaled the smoke from the Marlboro, I caught her staring at me.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing..." She replied, inhaling her own cigarette.

"Go on, I can tell you want to say something." I pressed.

"Well, if you don't mind me saying so, your wife's a fucking idiot."

"Why?" I was genuinely confused.

"Because I've only been talking to you for 20 minutes, and I can tell from the way you act, and the way people act to you that you're a good man. She can't recognize that, and she's overly jealous. Most of the time when women get overly jealous it's the men that should be looking a little closer into what their partners are doing. She's just an idiot."

"I like to think so, anyway." I tried to lighten the mood.

"Don't sell yourself short." She warned, taking a final drag on her cigarette and throwing the cylinder away.

"Isn't it bad form for a cop to smoke?" I asked.

"Sure, but I don't smoke much. When I'm out, I'll have one or two."

"That's more than zero."

"Guilty pleasures."

I realized then that she'd closed the distance between us, and her gray eyes and red hair were filling my vision. Anything beyond her was irrelevant at that moment. I could have had a SWAT team converging on me, and I wouldn't have noticed. She lightly traced her fingers on my neck, and lightly applied pressure to the back of my neck, pulling me closer to her.

I obliged, and moved in, pressing my lips against her soft, cherry flavored lips and I inhaled slightly, smelling the same vanilla scent I smelled in the squad car. I felt her tongue probing gently into my mouth, and I responded. It felt like around 2 seconds later we split apart, even though around 5 minutes had passed, and I had to steady myself against the closest car I was so dizzy.

"I'm telling you, it'll get easier. I'm just staking my claim early, you're a sweet man. Let's go back inside, big boy." She winked at me and linked arms with me, pulling me back into the bar.

--

The rest of the night was uneventful, I think. We might have had a full scale riot, and I just hadn't noticed because I couldn't take my eyes off Emily. Admittedly, it seemed that she was struggling to take her eyes off me, too. We danced a little, and talked a lot.

I found out she'd been married to a real bastard, a man my daddy would have called 'assertive'. That basically meant he raised his hand to his woman anytime she had an opinion, or did something he didn't like. She didn't elaborate, beyond he was abusive. I figured she'd tell me if she wanted me to know.

People in the bar started to leave at around 2AM, and the staff called it a night. Ben and Alison were long gone, and I wasn't particularly confused about what they'd be doing.

Eventually the bar was empty of customers. Claire was kind of hovering in a motherly way, but the other guys were long gone.

"Paul, tonight's been wonderful!" she told me.

"I'm glad you think so!" I replied with a grin.

"I need to head out." She said sadly.

"No problem, you know where I am." I replied, but she probably didn't miss the crestfallen look on my face. I didn't want tonight to end.

"Me either." She said, reading my face like an open book.

With that she kissed me on the cheek and headed out.

I headed to bed thinking about how fucked up my situation had become in just a few short days.

--