He grins, “Itisstupid. That’s why it works.”
Then he vanishes, the dark wooden door closing with a harsh thunk behind him.
A heavy breath escapes my nose as I sink into the chair just a little bit further.
I don'twantto go out there and fuckingmingle.
I want to track down my girl.Brigit.
I need to find her and see what the actual fuck happened.
How long have we been together? Is she a girlfriend? Fiance?
Clearly not a wife, or she would have been up there on the stand as a character witness, right?
Did she look for me when I was bleeding out and ended up in the hospital?
Or was she devastated to find out I was a killer?
He said she was a regular, but does that mean she and I watched the fights together?
Did she know about my crimes before they came to light?
Did she help?
Fuck, why didn't I ask Skyler that?
Would he even know?
The only solid thought in my mind, as it swirls with a thousand questions, is that I have to find her.
If nothing else, she needs to know thatI'm okay, right?
Fucking hell, would she even care now that what I am has been broadcast to the whole world?
Would she believe me if I told her I was innocent?
I mean, technically speaking, according to the law, I am innocent.
I went through a whole god damn trial just for them to blow it due to mishandling of evidence and a slew of other procedural fuck ups so I could be innocent.
Even as I think the words, I know they're not true.
Somewhere, buried deep in my stomach, I can feel that I'm responsible for those deaths.
And I don't really feel guilty for them, but maybe I feel guilty for not feeling guilty.
I know that I should feel something about it, but do I?
That's not a question I'm willing to answer right now.
Gathering all my strength, I venture back out into the loud beats and flashing lights, my head throbbing in time to the music.
In what I imagine is the same as every other Friday night, throngs of people stick to my skin as I try to pass them in search of a quiet place to sit and think.
My house is far too chaotic to be a place of peace right now, and I'm not sure a fucking bar is much better, but at least it doesn't smell quite so bad.
I try to keep my head down and not draw attention to myself, but more than once, I catch someone nervously looking at me before pretending they weren't.
