The fire had been put out for quite some time, but the damage was much more extensive than Andrew Goldstein originally had let on. The interior walls were so charred that the entire kitchen would have to be gutted, and the siding of the exterior part of the house would need to be replaced entirely. This meant that we would have to get insulation, dry wall, and new siding as well as new wiring inside of the walls – and when Fletcher Daniels surveyed the damage he mentioned that it might be so bad that the entire house may need to get new wiring.
In all of my twenty-three years on this planet, I had never before seen the expression that my dad wore on his face. He gripped his chin tightly in his hand, eyes wide as he scanned the damage for himself, simply replying to everything Fletcher said to him with a soft hmm. I couldn't read his face whatsoever to understand what he was thinking, the only thing that was clear was that he was beyond the point of being stressed. Even though our finances weren't perfect, we had never gone without – we had our fair share of normal struggles, but nothing a bit of budgeting couldn't fix. This, however, changed things. Dad had been diligent about keeping up on the maintenance of the house should he ever want to sell it, but this was beyond any savings that he was able to afford, and it certainly was more than a little renovation. I didn't know what to expect, and clearly neither did dad.
Fletcher went on to hypothesize the details of how he could make things right for the house, but the more he tallied up the work that needed to be done, I could see the dollar signs rolling higher in his eyes. Dad listened carefully to everything that Fletcher had to say, while I drifted in and out of the conversation. We wouldn't be able to stay in the house for a few weeks until the worst of the smoke had dissipated, which meant we would have to be put up in a motel room until then – and once the agent from the insurance company made his way to our house, he informed that they would only be able to cover one week of lodging. I could hear the anger in dad's voice, regardless of how hard he tried to hide it, as he went on to explain that he had raised his premium just last year to cover for any accidents such as this. Apparently it wasn't enough for the insurance company.
I was more focused on the coincidence of seeing Mahala in Nancy's Diner with a purple mug similar to one that I owned and knowing that the fire in the house was started by a tea kettle. It seemed too far out to think that it had been merely coincidence, but it made me wonder that if Mahala had anything to do with the fire, why she had done it in the first place? Nothing about Mahala made much sense, but I needed to know why she would do something like this.
Fletcher ordered John to go to the building center at the hardware store to get a rough estimate of the cost for initial supplies, hoping to give dad a good figure to work with. I wasn't sure how we could afford much to begin with, but there had to be some way to make it work out so we could get our house fixed. Fletcher said that he could get dad a deal by using a promo code that he had on his own personal account, but in the long run it still wouldn't take down the initial building costs. Even though I wasn't sure of whether Fletcher would be responsible for John's murder, I couldn't help but second guess myself. Fletcher was nice enough, he always wanted to strike deals with his customers and he went above and beyond to compensate some work to make it easier for both parties. There were many giving and helpful bones in Fletcher's body, but again – money can change a man.
~~~
John didn't expect much to come of his time at the building center. He took the list of supplies Fletcher had penned out and went through the store catalog with one of the employees, trying his best to figure out alternative materials to cut the cost down. Once he had a pretty good idea of everything Fletcher needed, he left the store and was about to jump into his truck when he caught view of something abnormal. Walking down the street with a slight limp and her arm wrapped tightly in a cast was Nora, his ex-girlfriend who he had had a lengthy discussion with the night before about the tension between him and Ryler. It took him a moment to realize how bruised her face was – her lips were swollen and cracked, there were bruises underneath each of her eyes and they were puffy to the point that she almost looked unrecognizable. John's heart stopped, slamming the door shut as he carefully jogged towards her, seeing her expression change as soon as he came into view. She went to spin around to avoid him, but it was too late.
"Nora, what the hell happened?" John said, gently placing his hand on her shoulder but she winced as he did so he quickly withdrew his touch.
"I'm fine, Johnathan," She snapped back, her lip quivering despite how hard she fought the urge to cry. John broke at the sight of how scared she was – he cared for Nora despite everything that had happened between them.
"You're clearly not, don't lie to me," He said, unable to hide how anxious he was to find out what had happened. He feared the worst, telling himself that maybe she had been in an accident or fallen – but the bruises on her face said otherwise. He wanted to hold her in his arms, mostly because he could see how broken she was in that moment, but also because she was in such a state of fear that her hands were shaking uncontrollably. "Did someone do this to you?"
By the look on her face that was all John needed to know – someone had done this to her, and he knew exactly who it was. Fire burned up inside of him and he found it difficult to contain all of the rage that so eagerly wanted to burst out. Nora immediately looked apologetic, using her free hand to stop John from going anywhere. "Stop, please. Leave it alone, John," She begged, gnashing her teeth together as tears brimmed in her eyes. "It's not what you think at all."
John tried his best to calm down as soon as the tears broke free from Nora's eyes, trying her best to wipe them away as if John hadn't already seen them. He sighed, the fire still bubbling away inside of him, trying his best not to scare Nora anymore than she already was. Her hand was still firmly placed on his chest as if she was not only pushing him away, but pulling him in. With one sleight movement, he placed his hand over top of hers to comfort her. She choked for a moment, gasping as she looked away to avoid crying in front of him.
"You're not in trouble, Nora," He said softly, holding her hand firmly in his. "Why did he do this to you?"
"He didn't," She tried to lie, but John knew by the look on her face that she was simply trying to save Ryler from being persecuted. But John knew better, and he knew better than to let Ryler get away with anything. "It's a misunderstanding, I swear."
"Tell me why he would do this," John said, almost begging her at this point. He had to clench his fist together a few times to try to calm himself, but even that did nothing at this point. "Why would he hurt you?"
"He loves me too much," She mumbled, finally pulling her hand away from John. "He thought I was trying to convince you to get back together with me, and he doesn't want to lose me – that's all. He's passionate, John, you know that."
John shook his head as soon as she said the words. "This isn't passion, Nora, it's abuse."
"No, it isn't. It's not at all like that! I don't need you to tell me what happened when you weren't even there," She said, her voice breaking half way through. She could barely speak between the sharp inhales, turning away once more to calm herself. "You weren't even there, John."
He heard the soft sobs escape from her, and soon she was nothing more than a broken woman trying to convince herself that the truth of the matter wasn't real – that there was some deeper meaning to the bruises her boyfriend had left on her body, and that the broken bones in her arm were simply the rages of passion that come from someone loving too strongly, too afraid to lose the only thing they want in this world. She was mistaken.
John didn't need to hear anything more, and he didn't want to see Nora cry the way that she was. A part of John would always love Nora – even if she broke his heart in a way that could never be fixed – they had something truly special when they were together and he was thankful for the good times they had when they did. Nora didn't deserve this and John wasn't going to stand for it.
For some reason he knew where to go, where to find Ryler and what he had to do. Even though John was not a violent man by nature, there were few things in this world that he could idly stand by for. Hurting a woman was at the top of the list. He left Nora in the street, but not because he didn't care about her well-being, he couldn't bare to hear her cry and see the wounds covering her body. He remembered quite well how much he loved every tender inch of her, how her skin felt smooth like she had just been born and how he cherished just how fragile she was. And that was exactly why he couldn't stand to see her that way – Nora was fragile, and Ryler had taken advantage of that.
John hadn't stepped foot in the local watering hole yet, and he wasn't particularly interested in doing so before this moment. Avalanche had seen better days and usually housed the same type of people every day, the type of people John didn't see in himself and frankly didn't want to get too close to. He knew about it simply because of a quick mention through Fletcher, and for some reason he knew that if Ryler was anywhere, that's where he would be. He wasn't wrong.
Ryler's knuckles proved he was responsible for Nora's appearance, carefully balancing a pool-stick off of his bruised and crusted skin as he aimed down at the white cue ball. Atheson stood nearby as he leaned on his own pool-stick, watching as Ryler prepared his shot for one of the last of his balls which would crown him the winner of their game. John didn't hesitate to cross through the dimly lit bar, brushing past a group of older men in a heated debate that he didn't bother listening to. He was two steps away before Ryler realized John was there, snapping his head up only to be met by a fist straight to his cheek. This punch sent Ryler backwards, almost knocking him off his feet but he quickly caught himself. There were no words exchanged as they both knew exactly why this was happening; John didn't need an explanation. Atheson, however, was confused by what was going on and quickly tried to intervene as Ryler launched himself at John. Fists went flying by, some landing but most of them missing by a few inches. John grabbed Ryler by the collar of his shirt, throwing him up against the pool table nearby. The bartender called out for them to stop, banging something on the counter as the rest of the customers started hooting and hollering at the scene of the three men fighting.
Atheson was trying his best to stop the two, but he was also trying to strike against John at the same time. Eventually John was able to pull himself away from Ryler so that he could warn Atheson to stay back, only to be met by a quick punch to the stomach. John defensively grabbed Atheson and pushed him towards the bar, but Atheson was cocked and ready to go – quickly launching another punch at John's already bruised face. Ryler pulled himself off the pool table and attacked John from behind, grabbing a tuft of his hair and pulling John's back against his chest as he held him in place for Atheson to take another swing. John barely ducked out of the way, causing Atheson to land the hit on Ryler. John kicked behind him and managed to hit Ryler in his manhood, quickly toppling over in pain. John stood up quickly and threw a punch at Atheson, landing hard enough to almost knock Atheson to the ground.
"How can you defend this woman beater?" John snapped, nursing his bloodied fist. "What kind of person does that make you, Atheson?"
Atheson paused, looking over to Ryler as he tried to recuperate on the ground. Atheson clearly had no idea what had happened to Nora and didn't know how to respond. John nodded a few times, pointing towards Ryler. "Nora has a broken arm and possibly other fractures thanks to this piece of human garbage," John announced, turning back to look at Ryler. "You think you're so tough that you have to beat up a girl, huh?"
"Wait, he did what?" Atheson interjected, stabilizing himself on a chair nearby as he tried to catch his breath.
John shook his head at Ryler, spitting out a wad of blood from his mouth. "You don't deserve Nora, and I swear to God that if you ever come near her again, I will kill you."
Ryler yelled back a slew of profanities before getting into a coughing fit, collapsing slightly onto the ground. He took a moment to catch his breath, looking up to John as vitriol filled his face. "Try me," He whispered back, trying to spit at John.
John looked to Atheson, who was clearly still confused. "Find some better friends, man," He said, stepping away from the two of them and leaving Avalanche behind.