“Who’s this crazy guy?” Haverty cuts in. “And, we’re not having a pussy chat about the guns, I’m taking them, no debate, end of discussion. Your husband doesn’t need to have them in his hands until he gets his head screwed on straight and his alcohol dependence under control.” He checks to make sure the gun isn’t loaded and the safety’s on. “What guy?”

“The newbie asshole that wants...”

I stop her by placing my hand in the air for silence. She doesn’t know enough about him to give an accurate explanation of what’s going on.

“There’s always a next in line,” I clarify. “He’s someone who filled Paul’s shoes in the company, and now that David’s dead, he wants the money that David was after. It’s nothing to worry about.” Setting my leg on my thigh I lean back and finish my coffee. Haverty’s eyes are glued on mine, and I can tell by his silence that he’s not satisfied with my answer. I’ll have to provide more details. “I don’t know his real name, only his porn name. We met years ago in Vegas when... he was a... I actually considered him to be a friend, but for a moment last night he reminded me a lot of Paul; and David for that matter. But now that I’ve had some time to think about our interaction, I don’t think he’s as vicious as either one of them. He’s definitely not abusive like Paul, I know that for sure, and if he were as violent as David, he would’ve tried something last night. I overreacted. He’s a creepy fuck, but nothing more, and he really just wants the money. After that he’ll be gone. David and Ivy are on my mind more than him.” I try to dismiss the event, unsure why, and by the look on Haverty’s face and now my wife’s, I haven’t done a very convincing job.

“You’re lying,” Sophia whispers. “He’s lying,” she repeats louder in case Haverty didn’t hear. “He came upstairs last night and got our gun. It hasn’t been touched since the first week when we learned to shoot it at the range; that was months ago,” she turns to me. “Something he said got under your skin. I can tell.”

“No. The gun wasn’t loaded, Soph. It was just a crutch, nothing more.”

Haverty continues to sit in silence, picking his nails, listening. He’s dressed in a black polo shirt tucked into a pair of jeans, with his phone clipped to his front pocket and a pair of shiny black oxfords on his giant feet. Casual, yet authoritative. And, I know he’s being quiet because he’s pissed I didn’t call him when Marcus was here. I tried to take care of things myself.

“Look, it was late, I was going to give him the check, but he took off. He’s just trying to get into my head like Paul and David used to, only they did it when I was a teenager. This guy’s good, but we’re the same age, height, and build. He’s not gonna take me down. It’s a different situation.”

He rubs his forehead and finally speaks. “Cove,” he sighs. “You fucking punk-ass-squirrel. I know you’re into some fucked up shit with these people, and since day one when you hired me for the Scarlett; I had a sense that your family was in the mob. I’ve protected you, kept your family’s secrets to myself, been around whenever you needed me, but...”

“He’s quitting,” Sophia jumps in and places her hand on my leg. “No, don’t quit. I’m sorry I offended you and if you think I’m a bitch, but I really do like you, Hav. We need you around, not just as an employee, but as a friend.”

“As family,” I say. “You’re more than just a friend. You really gonna quit?”

“I thought my ass was about to get fired.” He takes a final sip of coffee and sets the mug on the table with a smile. “As I was saying, what goes on in your life and at your business is in safe hands, although, I should hope you’d come to me if you’ve gotten yourself into some serious trouble. No, I’m not leaving, but I’d like to know if you figured out a way to make David’s death look like a suicide.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I lean forward with my hands clasped. “You think I killed him?”

He takes the gun from the Scarlett out of an ankle holster and places the two guns side-by-side on the table. “I went back inside the bar last night after you left. You freaked me out and I thought you were in a state of deep depression, but now I believe you wanted to get rid of these things for another reason. This one,” he taps the gun from the Scarlett. “This one had the safety off, and I remember we loaded a full mag before we closed the safe. That was when you first bought it, and I don’t think you’ve opened the safe since. It was ready to go in case we ever had an emergency, so, my friend, who’d you use it on? Or, where and when did you use it? There’s a bullet missing. I know you didn’t shoot David because the gun used was at the scene with him. It wasn’t this one, but I have a feeling something went on between the two of you. You’ve been a wreck since it happened, uneasy, asking a lot of questions like you want to know how much the cops have figured out. You were sweating balls last night in your office with the detective around,” he shakes his head. “Nervous about something? Because if we’re friends, if you think of me as family and you made a mistake, it’s time to fess up. I want to help.”

“Whoa, when the fuck did you fire our gun?” Sophia changes position on the sofa so her entire body’s facing mine. “Cove? Answer me.”

I exhale. Trapped. Looking for a way out. “You think my family’s in the mob?”

“Cove,” they both say.

“Answer the question,” she demands. “When did you use it, and why?”

I stare at the hardwood floor, running my bare feet in a circle as a distraction.

“Did you have something to do with David’s death?” she whispers. “Oh God, forget I just asked that. I can’t believe those words just came out of my mouth. You’d never do such a thing; I know it, just tell us what did happen. Please.”

“Wait here,” I request. “Give me two minutes, alright?” I head for the stairs in need of a few things from the bedroom. I’ll tell them, but then I want some time alone. Yeah, I’m gonna run away from all of this, literally. “Two minutes,” I call down as I enter our master suite.

After checking my phone for messages, washing my face, brushing my teeth, and taking a piss, I change into a comfortable shirt, a pair of shorts, and lace up my running shoes... my two minutes are up.

I jog down the stairs and stand before them, completely unsure how to approach this. Do I just blurt out what happened, and take off like a pussy, or should I apologize? Fuck, why should I be sorry that I suffer from depression?

“Going somewhere, Babe?” Sophia frowns.

“For a jog, but when I get back I want to take you out for the day. Shower and get ready, okay? I’m not spending our time together indoors talking about this shit.”

She nods and folds her arms, still waiting for my answer to Haverty’s question. Fuck, what can I say?

“Grow a pair and hang ‘em, buddy. It’s time. I’ll grab you by the back of the neck and snap you like a twig if you try to take off before coming clean. What’s the situation? Someone either threatened you, or pissed you off, or...”

“Or you were right earlier. I was suicidal.” There, I said it.

“Oh, Cove,” Sophia responds softly and places her hand over her mouth while Haverty closes his eyes and exhales.

“I was nervous around the detective because I had just fired the gun inside the Scarlett. I didn’t want to get arrested.”

“You should be saying, I didn’t want to die,” he says as my wife has a look of utter devastation on her face.

“I’m sorry.” Damn it, don’t apologize for this. Stay strong.

“What did you fire it at?” he questions in a calm voice, almost acting as if he’s disappointed in me.

I’m suddenly uncomfortable by his demeaning tone; it makes me feel weak that I would even consider it. I could’ve lied to them, but I’m on a new path in life, being more open with Sophia so we can start to have a strong and healthy marriage; or as healthy as humanly possible.