Beast and The Harlot

Chapter 26

When she left back into the house, I sat there.

The headache has vanished, but the ache in my heart still sat there, my mind resounding one thing: "You are the biggest bitch in the whole world."

I had to agree, that was probably the meanest thing I'd ever done to someone.

The look on her face kept popping up in my head, like my brain was a computer.

Soft sprays of the ocean misted onto my face, but I didn't care because the constant breeze dried me in a hurry.

"Truth be told, I miss you. And truth be told, I'm lying," my jeans pocket was singing.

I yanked the phone open, "Hello?"

"Thanks alot Cait..Now, she's fucking pissed!" he yelled.

"Look..I knew you weren't gonna tell her-"

"You don't know shit! Just stop bugging into stuff that doesn't involve you!" he barked.

Sadness swept over me, "It is my business! I'm the one who's pregnant!"

He hadn't hung up, but I had gotten him.

"I was gonna tell her, so you were wrong," I pictured him sulking, and almost laughed.

"No..You're wrong. You're a cheat, and a liar. You don't deserve Lacey," I told him, my true feelings ebbing forth.

"I-"

"How could you lie to her? How do you think I felt when it came up that you had a girlfriend? I would never be involved in a cheating game, yet there you went, and pulled me right into one!"

"You know what? I'm tired of talking, Cait. Bye," Johnny hung up.

Fury shook my hands, and I slapped the phone shut and shoved it back into my pocket.

Hormones are the worst thing in the world.

You shed a tear over anything.

Battling back my crocodile tears, I went back into the house to find that Lacey and Johnny were gone.

Well, that made sense, considering Johnny called me.

I locked the back door, then flounced onto the couch, putting my hands under my head.

I cried like I was giving water to thirsty children in the African heat.

Grabbing a pillow, I put it over my head, muffling the noise I was making.

"Cait? Babe, what the hell are you doing?" Jimmy's foot steps were nearing me.

"Na-nothing!" I crossed my arms over the pillow, in hopes that he wouldn't take it away.

Unfortunately, his fingers did take it off, and his face fell.

"What's wrong?" he picked me up, then sat down, settling me into his lap.

I burst out with what had occurred when Johnny and Lacey had visited.

I left out the phone call part; there wasn't a need to get into an uncomfortable zone.

"It's okay. You did the right thing," he kissed my nose.

That had been the only thing that he could say to make me feel better.

"Thanks, Jimmy," I wiped my eyes on my tee shirt.

"You're getting a belly!" he exclaimed, his eyes in wonder, and his lips in a huge smile.

I covered myself conciously, "Thanks! You really have a way with the girls!"

"You're not fat, babe. I'm just so happy to see our baby finally showing," he kissed my cheek.

***
"Tomorrow might not make it, but everything's alright," let me know Zacky was calling me.

Jimmy was asleep on the couch, his glasses leaning on his nose.

I smiled at him, a mental picture saving in my memories.

I took the phone and went into the kitchen so I wouldn't wake him up.

"'Ello?" I took a bite of an apple.

"Cait?"

"Yes?" I swallowed the bite, wondering what Zacky wanted.

"Can I ask you a favor?"

"Yeah.." I watched a couple stroll by on the beach behind the house, hands linked, eyes on each other.

"I need help cleaning my house...Do you think you could come over and pick up a little bit? Not much, I mean, since.."

"Yeah. I gotcha," I thought about it, thinking what could it hurt?

"Alright. I'll be over in a second."

***
"Thanks for coming over..I can't stand my house being like a pigsty," Zacky appeared out of place in his wheelchair.

For the years I'd known him, I had never seen him injured badly such as this.

"You're welcome. Umm, you just want me to clean wherever?" I shrugged to the cluttered living room.

"Sure," he wheeled himself to the fridge and got out a beer.

He pried the lid off, then took a long sip.

"Okay," I went into the kitchen and grabbed some dusting polish and a rag.

I felt his eyes in the back of my neck, but I continued cleaning.

I stacked magazines, threw dirty clothes into the tiny laundry room beside the living room, vaccuumed, everything.

My back was killing me, but I tackled the kitchen too.

I went to put the dusting stuff away and trade it in for bathroom cleaner when I spotted a bottle of Jack Daniels pushed far in the back of the cabinet under the sink.

I ignored it, then went into the bathroom.

He had razors all over the counter, and numerous hair gels, odds and ends.

I opened the cabinet underneath it, and shoved it all in there.

Again, a bottle caught my attention, this time it was Hot Damn.

I cleaned the rest of the bathroom, insecurities running through my head.

With junk in tow, I headed back to the kitchen.

I put everything up, then went into the laundry room, figuring I should wash some of his clothes for him.

I began a load of whites, then noticed how dirty the floor was, so I was in search of a broom.

There was a little closet in the room, some clothes in front of it.

I kicked them out of the way, and opened the door.

My eyes widened at the numerous brands of alcohol he had hoarded in there.

Vodka, whiskey, champagne, Coors, Smirnoff, Jose Cuervo..

OhMyGod...This man is an alcoholic! I panicked.

"Cait, do you need any help fi-" he stopped his wheelchair, smiling, then looked at what I had been gazing at with incredubility.

His smile lost its charm.

"Oh...Umm..I'm holding them for a friend," he said, his tone slow, and precise, as if he was thinking it up as he went.

"No, no you're not," I shook my head, rolling my eyes at his lie.

"You don't seriously think I could drink all that?" Zacky chuckled, guzzling from his Bud Light.

"Yes," I looked at the drink in his hand, "I do."

"Oh, c'mon, Cait!" he threw his right hand up in exasperation.

"Zacky, this isn't good!" I told him, my heart crying for him.

"Oh, it's not like I'm your problem!" he waved me off, turning and leaving.

"Zacky, you're my friend. Of course, you're my fucking problem!" I screamed at his back.

He didn't turn around, just chunked his empty refreshment into the trash, and went to the fridge for another.

"See! You do have a problem! You drink all day long! Every day!" I expressed determinedly.

"No, I don't!" he retorted after he'd drank.

I shut my eyes, wanting to shake his head off his shoulders.

"Fine. If you don't want to admit you have an issue, then...Fuck you!" I cursed and turned to leave.

Adrenaline from anger coursed through my veins, but regret battered my senses.
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