course he called you. Ashley felt her shoulders tighten and hated herself for it. Now wasn’t the time to be jealous.
“That’s not what happened,” she said.
“Okay, if you’re not broken up, what was the fight about?” Michelle asked.
Ashley thought about telling her the truth. Telling her everything.
Instead, she said, “John was just on the news. Did you see it in the bar?”
“No. They had the Nets on. Why was he—?”
“He was involved in some sort of shootout. People are dead. They think he did it.”
Michelle laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m serious.” I saw it all.
“Stop messing around. First you tell him you don’t want to see him, and now you’re going to tell me he’s wanted by the police?”
Ashley sighed. What had John told her? When she told John she didn’t want to see him, just hours earlier in the car outside his apartment, she meant tonight. And he knew it.
Why shouldn’t I do this? It’ll be good for both of them
It’s stupid and it’s none of your business. Don’t follow him tonight.
Do you know something? Is there someone else?
No.
Tell me why you don’t agree with me. Why is this wrong? You’ve been acting so weird lately. You haven’t been answering my calls.
Just don’t be stupid. I can’t take you when you’re like this.
Are you breaking up with me?
She had paused before answering. Looked at her steering wheel.
Are you?
I—
John got out of her car and went back into his apartment.
Her eyes had welled up when she screamed at him. Ashley needed him to believe her. And he didn’t listen. In fact, he did exactly the opposite of what she expected.
Usually, if they fought, he’d want to work it out. Stick around. This time he stormed off. She wished she hadn’t hesitated before answering the break-up question.
She followed him all the way to the docks. And she’d just gotten out of her car to confront him when the gunfire started. She thought if they went after Peter, they would be coming for her.
And now John was wanted for murder.
“Michelle, turn on the news.”
The roar of the bar came back. Michelle must have gone inside again. She was talking to someone, probably the bartender, asking for the channel to be changed. Michelle had to ask three times. Ashley looked back into the bar. Channel five was just getting to the story.
“Oh my God,” she heard Michelle say. Over the roar, she continued, “I’m going to get help. My father has connections with police forces everywhere.”
“I know,” Ashley said.
There was a pause, and then, “Of course you know. I’m sorry. It’s just… I can’t believe this. I’m going to try and find out what’s going on.”
“Okay.”
“Call me if you hear anything, Ash.”
Ashley bit the inside of her lip.
“Ashley?”
“Please call me back after you talk to your dad.”
“You got it. I can’t believe this.”
“Neither can I.” Ashley took a breath. Lie, she told herself. Get Michelle to think about reasons why John would be involved with this. Reasons that had nothing to do with Ashley’s life. “Maybe… Maybe he just lost it. After everything he’s been through, maybe tonight was too much.”
“I don’t believe it. He’s been seeing a psychiatrist. He’s been doing so well. He didn’t act like this when we broke up. We’re still friends. He let me set you two up.”
And he still stared at you whenever we all went out together, Ashley thought, shrugging to try and loosen the knot in her shoulders.
“Call me,” Michelle said. “As soon as you hear anything.”
“You too.”
Ashley snapped her cell shut and went back to staring. She wasn’t going to call Michelle. She wasn’t going to call anyone. She had to worry about protecting herself. But with what? Ashley closed her eyes and thought. There was a 24-hour Home Depot a few blocks from here. They had to have something.
Her fingertips tingled as she put her cellphone back into her purse.
Closing her eyes, she thought, I hope you stay safe, John.
“You okay?” Frank asked.
John nodded, raising the pint of Pabst to his lips. The beer was sour, but it was wet and it moistened his tongue. The shakes had mostly stopped. John could still see the dead men, but if he gritted his teeth hard enough and focused on Frank’s face, the images would pass.
The bar was dark, a long TV in the corner playing One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. A few patrons dressed in tight jeans and flannel shirts stood near the bar and sipped Pabst from a can. Flogging Molly played from the jukebox.
“Okay, good.” Frank paused, then closed his mouth. “Why were you following me?”
John placed the beer on the bar table between them. He once told Ashley that they should give tables like these to his students instead of desks. The kids never wanted to sit. They wanted to bounce around, move, and not have to sit still. Kind of like how John felt right now.
“Ashley broke up with me.”
That’s it. Leave it at that. Don’t go any deeper.
Frank watched John for a moment. Then his gaze flicked back and forth over John’s shoulder. Finally, it returned to John.
“Uh huh?”
“Yeah, I think Ashley broke up with me. Said she couldn’t see me. I—I don’t know. We had a huge argument.”
John reached down for his beer. When his hand started to shake again, he wrapped it around the pint glass and held it there. He didn’t want to drop the glass when he lifted it up again.
“What
