Colt was in the living room, seated in the middle of the couch, forearms to his knees, a glass of Jack, uncut, not even with ice, held in one hand between his knees. The bottle was in front of him on the coffee table, mostly empty. Only his eyes hit me, other than that, he didn’t move.

Sully drank beer and on occasion would spring for a shot of single malt if he was in the mood. Lorraine wasn’t a drinker at all, when she came to J&J’s she ordered strawberry daiquiris which was mildly annoying, they were a pain in the ass to make. Still, she got loopy on them quick and Lorraine loopy was hilarious enough to be worth the pain it was to make a daiquiri.

That Jack Daniels was in the house for when Colt came around. I couldn’t know how much he’d imbibed, he wasn’t moving or speaking so even though I had years of practice being around people who were drinking, I didn’t know what state of sober, or not, he was in.

What I did know was that Colt never drank his bourbon uncut. I knew Colt never drank vodka because both of his parents drank it and he also never drank his bourbon uncut. Usually, it was Coke he cut it with if not, some water or ice. This was an effort to prove he wasn’t like his folks who drank their liquor straight, always and often. Colt drinking straight bourbon was not good.

Colt not moving or saying a word, worse.

I stopped far enough away he could see me, not close enough to push it.

And when I started, I didn’t f**k around.

“I know you blame me,” I told him.

He didn’t move.

“I was there, I saw it, I coulda stopped it,” I went on.

He gave me nothing even his golden eyes didn’t flicker.

“Or I coulda said something after, so you’d understand, so Amy wouldn’t have had to –”

He moved then, barely, his body locked and I reckoned this was to keep himself in control and I stopped talking.

He knew like I knew, I said something even if it wasn’t during the act but after, it would have saved a lot of hurt. Colt, being Colt, would have done something. Dad, being Dad, and Mom, being Mom, would have had his back. Amy wouldn’t have suffered, she’d have had her son and Colt would have had him too. Colt, Dad and Mom would have made us all a family, somehow they’d have made it work. They’d have made it work so Colt and me would still have each other, Amy would have had us all and no one would be dead because it would have stopped Denny before the sick fully took hold.

I pulled in breath and whispered, “I have to live with that forever.” My voice dipped even lower, the bitter guilt germinating from that seed stark in my tone before I repeated, “I have to live with that forever.”

Colt still didn’t move, didn’t speak, didn’t lift his glass to his lips or throw it against the wall. He just kept his eyes on me and the blame was clear.

“I was twenty,” I continued, knowing it was weak but also knowing it was true, “she was everything I wasn’t and you were… you were…” I couldn’t find a word that said it all and what I used was just as weak but it’d have to do, “golden.”

Even hearing the wonder I had of him heavy in that word, Colt gave me nothing.

“You could have had anyone you wanted, in this town, out of it, anywhere you went, anyone you wanted. Why’d you want me?” I asked and, not surprisingly, Colt didn’t answer so I forged on. “She was sweet and quiet and shy. She was small and pretty and dark. I wasn’t any of that. I was loud, I was wild, I did crazy shit,” I explained. “That night I was drunk, I got home after seein’ you two and my mind played tricks on me. Tricks it’d been playin’ for a good long while.” I shook my head, knowing it was stupid now but thinking it was real back then and said, “You wouldn’t have sex with me.”

There it was, finally his hand twitched, the bourbon sloshing in his glass.

That was all he gave me but it was something.

“I was getting worried, Colt,” I whispered. “You seemed to want me but didn’t want me. I didn’t understand, even though you told me. You were a guy, I was willing to give it up, I made that clear, but you didn’t wanna take it and that didn’t make sense.”

I watched but he gave me nothing more.

I kept going. “So, seeing you with Amy, being drunk and twenty and wanting you and not getting all of you, seeing you with her, I know I was wrong now but then it seemed obvious to me.” I hurried on, having to get it out. “I know it was stupid, I know that now, I didn’t know it then, I couldn’t. All I knew was you gave her something you wouldn’t give me. How could I know that you’d both been drugged? That kind of shit never occurred to me.”

I waited and Colt just watched me, unmoving.

There it was. That was it. It was done and pain burned through me so blistering, so deep, my body started shaking trying to hold myself standing.

But if we went our separate ways for good, he deserved to go his way knowing it all.

“Pete took my virginity,” I told him and I watched his head jerk, surprise flashed across his features before they settled into disbelief.

“I know,” I went on, “what those guys said, I know all about it. I know everyone was talkin’ about me. I’m not denyin’ I went wild, got drunk, partied, smoked too much pot, fooled around. None of those guys got as far as you though, not near as far. You probably don’t believe me and why they said that shit, I don’t know and I didn’t care. I’d lost everything, my sole reason for being was tryin’ to numb the pain and everyone thought the worst of me, what did it matter? Why fight it?” I lifted a hand and pulled my hair away from my face, holding it at the back of my head, looking to the floor, talking to myself. “And in the end, I gave it to Pete. Fuck. Pete. So goddamned stupid, I was always so goddamned stupid.”

I dropped my hand and looked at him. He’d changed, I didn’t know how but he had. Though I saw it, the change didn’t register on me. I had my story to tell and I had to get out. I was done with it all. Colt was right, I couldn’t hack it and I was going to haul ass. But I was going to do this first, he deserved that.

“Far as I knew, my first boyfriend cheated on me, any guy I kissed lied about me and my husband beat me. I know you know this but that time you saw me wasn’t the only time he used his fists on me, it was just the worst,” I informed him, not looking at him, my eyes having wandered over his shoulder. “Then I took off and kept myself to myself. I was lonely but I didn’t care about that either. Lonely’s a different kind of pain, it doesn’t hurt as bad as heartbreak. I preferred it and embraced it ‘cause I reckoned it was one or the other. It took me five years to find Butch and there was no one between him and Pete. I was workin’ a bar in Georgetown and Butch came in. After that he came in as regular as he could for six months before he hired me at his bar. I worked there for two months before he got a date. We’d been together for four more before I let him f**k me and we’d been exclusive another six before I moved in with him. He was patient, worked at it hard and we had good times but the minute he got it, he threw it away. I shoulda known he would but I fell for it, fell for him. Stupid, stupid February.”