Guilt by G. H. Ephron Read Free Book Online

she’d try.
    Molly took off her padding and handed Annie the helmet. Annie spritzed the interior with disinfectant and wiped it clean.
    Sonya Mckay, a twenty-something in tight jeans, a short top, and a sun tattooed over her navel, said, “There was a bomb scare at my daughter’s school. Turned out it was a volleyball in a paper bag. But they didn’t know that until after they’d evacuated all the classrooms and—”
    She stopped in the middle of the sentence and the place turned silent, the only sound a thud, then a rumble as a bowling ball rolled down one of the alleys overhead.
    â€œI just want to talk.” The man’s voice came from the main room.
    Annie went to the doorway and the women crowded behind her. Jackie Klevinski was backing up into the room. Coming at her was a man in a dark blue work uniform. He was of average height, with dark hair, clean-shaven except for a scraggly mustache and a little triangle of hair under his lower lip. He had the body of a man who worked out, lots of upper arms and chest, bullnecked, with a slight bow to his legs like they had trouble supporting all that bulk. Had to be Joe Klevinski, Jackie’s loving hubbie.
    â€œCome on, Jackie. It’s not fair. You can’t just—”
    He froze when he saw them all.
    â€œJoe, I’m sorry, it’s just that I can’t go on like this,” Jackie said.
    She had on the same pants she’d been wearing three days earlier, cleaned and the knee mended. Her long hair was tied back, low at the neck.
    â€œGive me a chance to make it up to you,” he said, lowering his voice, the tone pleading. “You know how much I love you and Sophie. Please, don’t do this.”
    Jackie turned and saw them all watching.
    â€œCome on, baby. I just want to talk,” he said, his voice wheedling, his arms outstretched as he closed the space between them.
    Jackie scrambled back. “I can’t. It’s too late.”
    â€œHoney—” Klevinski started. His voice had a flinty edge. That sound combined with that word brought back a memory from childhood. Honey, don’t make me hurt you, delivered in just that tone of voice, was what her best friend Charlotte Florence’s father used to say to Charlotte’s mother. Annie shuddered and stiffened.
    â€œMr. Klevinski,” she said, shooting for a loud, confident tone. She strode over. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” She kept her voice calm as a telemarketer’s. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
    He dodged to one side. Annie blocked his way. He tried to go around her but Annie was in his face. He strained to see around her. When he saw Freddie, he gawped. “What the hell is that supposed to be?” he said. She’d removed neck guard and chest plate and was trying to strip off the rest of the gear. The damned red-man suit made it impossible to move.
    â€œI need you,” Klevinski shouted to Jackie. “You know I’m no good without you. Sophie needs a father. You’re destroying me—”
    Right. It was her fault.
    â€œJoe, please stop,” Jackie said, tears running down her face.
    That’s what they did, the bastards. Laid the guilt on thick, like it was Jackie’s fault that he drank and had to use her as a punching bag to prove he was a man.
    â€œShe’s not … going … with you,” Annie said. With each word, she felt adrenaline pump through her. Her vision turned sharp. She became aware of the space between his crooked front teeth, the slight paunch hanging over his belt, the hairs on his knuckles.
    He blinked at Annie, his lower lip curled with disdain. He gave her a slow once-over, up and down. “Why don’t you just mind your own business?”
    The women had closed ranks around Jackie. Klevinski eyed each of them, leering. Just a bunch of women, his look said.
    Annie held up both hands, palms facing him.