Ghosted: Brutal Deaths and Powerful Anger (Part I)

Ghosted: Brutal Deaths and Powerful Anger (Part I)
A few days later

Heubert sat in his recliner and sipped his cognac. “So, how did she take hearing what happened to you?” 

Robert rubbed his face. “Not well. I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone make a cohesive string of sentences using only profanity. It was impressive and terrifying at the same time.” Hearing Heubert laugh, he scowled at him. “It’s not funny. She laid into me pretty well, and when she was done, she hugged me and kissed my forehead. It was all very confusing. I couldn’t tell exactly what she was feeling, but whatever it was, she was feeling a lot of it.” He sighed. “I have no clue what to do. I leave tonight, and she’s still not speaking to me. Hell, she can’t look at me without crying.”

“Hmm, well it sounds like one of two things is going on. Either she’s absolutely nuts, and you have to deal with the fact you knocked up a crazy broad, or she’s in love with you.”

“She’s not crazy. A little heavy handed with a lesson plan, maybe, but–” Roberts eyes grew so wide they looked like they would pop out of his skull. “Love? Love?! You think she’s in love with me?!”

“Why the hell are you yelling? You wake up my son and I’m going to destroy you.”

“Sorry, you just caught me off guard.”

Rubbing his bald head, Heubert couldn’t help but grin at the exasperated man across from him. For as long as he’d known Robert–which wasn’t very long considering Robert spent most of his time trying to be invisible–he’d never seen him so rattled. Clumsy, shy, and out of touch with all things cool, but not rattled. It was fascinating to watch considering he was the lineage of the very people who built the town. Yet, here he was, face in hand, oblivious to what was staring him in the face.

“I think you’re the smartest dumb person I’ve ever met,” Heubert said after a moment. “Robert, angry-sad is the pinnacle of every relationship. When I do something dumb as hell that leaves me hurt, my wife gets angry at me for putting myself in that position, while also sad that I’m injured. What you did was so asinine it got you killed. You're the poster child for an angry-sad reaction from a woman that loves you, and trust me, she loves you.” He leaned back in his chair and slid his feet deeper into his loafers. “Now, the question is, do you love her?” he asked and then took a long swig of his Remy Martin

“Well, love is…such a strong word.”

He laughed. “So are the phrases mother of my child, and wife. Are you telling me that you mapped out the remainder of your existence with someone who you don’t know how you feel about? That sounds impulsive as hell to me.” He paused. “You know, come to think of it, it’s all pretty convenient on her side. I bet she knew who you were before you even told her.” He smirked. “I guess you really do have a thing for gold diggers, huh?”

Robert inhaled sharply. “You’re clearly drunk. Don’t talk about her that way. This is on me, not her.”

Heubert slapped his knee. “I’m not drunk, I’m honest. You’re a Haywood; it aligns too perfectly if you ask me. She may not have known about the ghost stuff or intended to get pregnant but I think she jumped on the glorious aftermath when it presented itself. A baby means insurance that even dead your ass is going to pay, and trust me, Robert, she’s going to make you pay in Benjamin Franklins, property, and don’t forget jewelry. You’re trapped and you don’t even realize it.” He cackled. “Well, I guess there are two silver linings. Maybe your kid will grow up to actually be something worth all this trouble, but if not, hey, at least you got to screw its mom before–” Heubert’s words came to a screeching halt as the glass in his hand shattered. 

Shaking, Robert turned his head and glared at the Remy bottle on the nearby table. Imploding into a million pieces, the liquid drenched Heubert’s robe.

“Shit!” he shouted, standing. “What the hell did you do that for?!” 

Robert stood and squared off with him. Heubert may have been larger, but the dark aurora rooted in Robert’s anger was enough to strangle him alone. “Don’t you ever open your fucking mouth to speak about them that way again,” he said deadly. “I don’t care who you are. The next time you part your lips to say anything about my family, yours will never see you again.” The two men stood face to face, neither breaking eye contact. 

Unable to hold it anyone, Heubert let out a broad grin.