Epilogue

Bob wanted to stay with his sister when she told Randy about the divorce, but she insisted that it was between the two of them and she didn't want Randy taking out his anger on Bob.

So, against his better judgment, Bob left. But he couldn't go home. After all that had happened, he had to hang around the house. He hid in the bushes and waited. He didn't have to wait long. Randy's car screeched to a halt halfway on the driveway and halfway in the yard and he got out yelling. He didn't sound all that drunk to Bob.

When he charged through the door he was yelling, wanting to know why his ATM card didn't work and the machine simply insisted that the account was closed.

Bob crept up onto the porch and hovered by the door, which Randy had not closed. He heard Lori tell Randy about the divorce, and to find someplace else to sleep that night and from then on.

Randy didn't cotton to the idea of divorce at all. He was adamant about it not taking place, in fact. He made this known with his fists, screaming at the woman who had frustrated him as a teenager and now disrespected him to his face.

Bob heard the first two smacks as Randy set about "teaching the bitch a lesson" as he put it.

He only got in those two blows.

Randy, who had been in the prime of his life when he married Lori, had squandered not only her love, but his health and physique as well. Alcohol had robbed him of his muscle, his sense of balance, and his ability to think quickly on his feet. When he felt someone grab his shoulder and spin him around, he had just enough time to see Bob's face and then that was blocked out by Bob's knuckles, which were lined up in a row, part of Bob's fist.

That fist landed square on Randy's nose, crushing it. There are literally hundreds of thousands of nerves in the nose, and when they all go into overload at once it is almost catastrophic to the brain. Randy saw stars and his brain exploded with those stars into unbelievable pain.

But Randy had not lost his combative instincts. What had made him a great high school quarterback still served him well. He shook off the pain and rage blinded him.

"I'll kill you, motherfucker," he slurred through bloody lips. He reached down into his boot and pulled a sheath knife.

Then he attacked Bob.

It was too bad for Randy that his killer instinct was all he had left. A killer instinct still requires a body to do what the mind wants, and Randy's didn't. Bob had shot a glance at his sister, who sat on the floor where she had fallen after being hit. Her face was pale and her hands were covering her baby ... their baby, protectively. There was a perfectly clear print of a palm and four fingers on her left cheek, an ugly red color that promised to bruise badly.

Bob was motivated to punish Randy for a lot of things, but top on that list was that hand print.

Bob beat Randy almost to death. He ignored the knife, which was stupid, but continued to pound Randy's broken nose, which was brilliant. Randy was so out of it that he couldn't bring the knife to bear effectively. The one lucky swipe he made scored Bob's arm and drew blood, but that was about it.