17. Colt – “You can cage the singer but not the song.”-Harry Belafonte
17
Colt
“You can cage the singer but not the song.”-Harry Belafonte
That tattoo on her wrist was burned into my mind. It had been since I saw it that day at the baby shower. Then, as I fixed my gaze on her standing in my guest house, holding the door open, nothing else registered but that tattoo on her wrist—except for the comment she just made. And now that my mind was clear after releasing my load, I knew the brother she was talking about.
Blake .
And when I think about it. Blake would like a girl like Abigail, a lot.
I halt when I see her in her car, talking to someone, her hands flying everywhere. Either she knows who I am, or she hates my guts, or both. But if she knew me, she would probably have said something before now, wouldn’t she?
I watch as she continues to talk on the phone. I need to speak to her about Blake, so as soon as she is done, I plan to knock on her door.
I play back the story about the night Blake died. It was the night we won against the Broncos. And the game put us in the lead for the top teams to play in the Super Bowl. My first Super Bowl. I remember that day like yesterday. I was on cloud nine. Hours later, my whole world was ripped from under me.
When I spoke to the doctor that night, he said a girl found him —a girl . I always wondered who it was because Blake never told me about any girls he dated or friends he hung out with. It’s like my brother was a walking ghost. Could she have been that girl? She had to be?
“Colt!” I hear Heidi call from behind me, and a surge of regret runs through my veins. I knew I should not have broken my streak. I have been celibate for a whole month, and I even turned down Namoi when I dropped her off after the baby shower. But after going out with the boys, then going to the strip club made me hornier than I’ve ever been, and I decided it was a wise choice to fuck someone with no strings attached. I know if I fucked Namoi, she would take it all wrong and think we were back together.
I walked up towards Abigail's car, not caring who she was on the phone with.
“You done?” I say, opening the car door. She looks over at me all wide-eyed, and then her face scrunches up in anguish.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Her eyebrows furrow at me, and she’s pretty cute when angry.
“Get out of the car, we need to talk.”
“Hell no, you aren’t the boss of me. Go bark orders to your side chick in your bed.” She tries to close her door, but I block it before she can close it all the way.
“Let go,” she says through gritted teeth. Now, she has both hands on the doorknob as she tries to pull with all her strength. It’s not even phasing me.
“You knew my brother? You knew Blake.”
“Ya, so.” Her voice strains as she continues to try to close her door. Obviously, my conclusions are correct. There was no denying my assumptions in her answer.
“I just want to talk about him, that’s it. I want to know what happened that night and if you were that girl that found him dead.”
I can tell she is losing her strength as she tries to keep a straight face. Instead of pulling the door inward, she now takes her feet and tries to push the door towards me to force me to back away. Her efforts make little progress since I only step one foot back by an inch. I could do this all day and that’s when I recognize the music playing in her car
“You listening to eighties music?” I haven’t heard Free Fallin in years.
“What, you want to talk about that too?”
“What are you? Like twenty? Who listens to eighties music at your age.”
“Ugh!” she says, giving up and letting go of her grip on the door handle. “Me. I'm twenty-one. And I can’t help that I was born in the wrong era.”
Blake would always say that. It was one of his artistic phases when he was into his band Fallen Angels , played the guitar, and smoked weed any chance he got. I’m not sure if he ever stopped liking the guitar, since I felt like I didn’t know the kid in the last year of his life.
“Go away,” She says, folding her arms.
“This is my property, so technically, I don’t have to go anywhere sweetheart.”
She throws daggers my way as if I said something to insult her, which I kind of had
“Colt, what the hell is going on here?”
“Oh God,” Abigail mutters under her breath, rolling her eyes.
“Go back inside, Heidi,” I say over my shoulder.
“No, not until you tell me who this girl is.”
Why do women think they own you after they spread their legs open for you? It’s not like she didn’t consent to sleeping with me. Ya, we both were tipsy, but I didn’t take advantage of her because I don’t fuck drunk girls. She had two drinks after her shift, and I took her back here since I couldn’t take her to my house with Bodie there. Plus, I don’t take any girls to my house unless I am exclusive with them.
“How about you start with who you are, Heidi? I mean, is that seriously your name? Or is that your stage name?” Abigail says with her arms still crossed.
“Go to hell, you little troll.” Heidi shrieks.
“Sorry, I don’t want to be where you might be.”
I have to hold back a laugh. “Stop,” I say, cutting the girls off.
“No, you stop. Aren’t you supposed to be dating my cousin? Namoi? Did you have to fuck another woman to make your ego a thousand times bigger?”
Damn, she’s got a mouth on her. I wasn’t sure if I was impressed or appalled.
“Not like this one would be hard to get in bed and slip inside her legs.” She points her chin to Heidi, giving her a brief sideways glance.
“You ugly bitch.” Heidi starts to reach for Abigail’s hair. And I step in between them.
“Heidi, stop, calm down. You can’t get offended by that. She doesn’t know you.”
“I don’t need to. Her fake double D’s, fake eyelashes, and bleached blonde hair tells it all,” Abigail says.
“I am not. Colt told me my pussy was the best he ever had and that it felt different than anyone else’s. You’re just jealous because you can never have a man like Colt.”
I close my eyes tight. God, this is why I shouldn’t drink. Did I really say that? Was I that gone? I forgot I was talking like that to her. No wonder she thinks I'm into her.
Abigail finally turns her head to face us now. Her lips are formed in a straight line. I've never seen anyone throw daggers like her when pissed. It’s like she was venomous and about to strike Heidi or me.
“Honey, the way Colt came after he rocked your world up there, I think I've heard men be more vocal when they sneezed.”
This time, I had to bite my lip to avoid laughing. Abigail was actually kind of funny when she was pissed. And I knew I should stop her, but I was eager to hear what else would come out of her mouth.
“Hey, what the hell is going on here?” Josh says as soon as he closes his car door and walks over to Abigail's car.
“Oh, you didn’t know? Your brother is a complete asshole.” Abigail says.
“I’m not an asshole. I just want to talk about Blake.”
“No, not happening.” She’s looking straight ahead now.
“Blake, you knew Blake?” Josh says as he whips his attention on Abigail. She lets out a long moan as she pushes past me and Josh. She bumps shoulders with Heidi.
“Little bitch,” Heidi mutters under her breath.
“Asher, come back. Hey, stop.” Josh grabs her by the arm, and she yanks free from his grip.
“Just leave me alone.”
He steps in front of her, placing both hands on her shoulder. “Abigail, stop, talk to me.What’s going on?”
As I stare at my brother and Abigail, I wonder why they never dated. I thought it was weird when I found Josh fucking another girl besides her the other day. Abigail didn’t think it, but she was pretty and the exotic type of pretty. I’d never seen anyone who looked like her, especially her curly hair.
“This is all your fault. Why did you have me come here if you knew he was going to be here fucking another girl. And what is it with you Killian brothers, don’t you do anything else in your spare time?”
“I didn’t know he would be here, obviously.” Josh eyed Heidi up and down.
I didn’t like how she thought of all of us as whores, because it reminded me of my father, and I didn’t want to be anything like my father.
“First of all, stop talking about me like I’m not here. Second, I am a grown-ass man. I can fuck whoever I want in my house.” I was so annoyed. I shouldn't have to answer to a bunch of kids. I mean, who the fuck do they think they are? Josh is lucky I let him use this place whenever it’s free to have the parties his parents never allowed him to.
“I didn’t know. I’m sorry,” Ignoring me, Josh continues to comfort Abigail. And the thought arises again, why the hell isn’t he dating her? He sure is protective of her like they have been intimate.
Maybe they have?
“I thought he would be with his son since school was out. I assumed, I’m sorry. I knew you needed to get out of your parents' house, fast, so I thought of the first place you could go. I didn’t want you to, you know-”
To what? Are they speaking code to each other now?
Josh’s eyes go back and forth, and Abigail sighs, looking down at her feet as if she did something wrong or messed up somehow.
“But why does Colt think you knew Blake?” Josh asks again.
Abigail's head lifts slowly to meet Josh’s gaze. “Because-” she shakes her head slightly as if she is shaking off the memory. “Because I did.”
“You did?” Josh’s says.
“Ya,” she nods slowly. Josh looks over her shoulder at me.
“And I assumed your last name was just a coincidence, and it was written in the stars that I would be forever reminded of him.” Abigail brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, looking so innocent at this moment.
Josh doesn’t say anything back at first. He continues to pass looks between her and me.
“How did you know she knew?” He finally asks me but before I can answer, Abigail holds up her wrist.
“Because of this.” She shows Josh her tattoo: a Scorpion with the number 11:11 over it.
“We both had the same birthday, which made us both Scorpios. This, besides our fearless fascination with death, brought us together.”
Her words shoot through me like a shot of toxins running down my esophagus, burning my core, eating away my insides, forcing a wound to open that I had closed for years.
“You can cage the singer but not the song.” — Harry Belafonte