Anger

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Maury

Anger is a funny thing. You don't realize how angry you are until you fight for your life. I wandered aimlessly until I ended up in my house and saw the furniture. Wait. What? I sold all my belongings.

I heard voices and crept toward them until I saw Will and myself in the kitchen. Will had me backed against the kitchen table. Why did he have me against a table?

I stepped closer to hear better. I shifted in my spot and mumbled while Will talked to me. I noticed drops of sweat on my forehead, and my cheeks flushed.

I stepped closer to Will and me. Will was making suggestive comments while I rambled incoherently. Shep's name slipped past my lips. Will dropped to his knees, undid my pants, and took my cock in my mouth. My head flung back as moans escaped from my mouth. Then. I spotted something. Will held me so I stayed upright.

Profusely sweating, flushed cheeks, and weak gait are signs of intoxication. I've read these symptoms in police reports. Why don't I remember being intoxicated?

But I showed all the classic signs.

What happened before I betrayed Shep? Think, Maury.

What are you doing in the kitchen, Will?

I thought you could have a coffee since you didn't have one today.

I saw a cup of coffee on the table with signs of someone drinking it. I retraced my steps that night. Will offered to go with me to my house. I told him it was necessary. He ignored me and climbed into my car. I told him to stay by the front door. He ignored me again when I found him in the kitchen, making coffee. I focused on that cup.

Fine. But one quick cup, then I need to get back to the office.

After taking a sip, I scrunched my face in disgust. This coffee tasted terrible, so I set the cup on the table. A few minutes later, everything became hazy. It felt like a hundred degrees in my kitchen. The air must not be working. 

While I ticked off the events of that night, something touched my foot. Who was touching my feet? I dislike anyone touching my feet because they're so damn ticklish.

My eyes flew open as I stared at Papa and Shep in confusion before glaring at Shep. Dang, nab it. Shep knows I hate when he tickles my feet. Shep gave me a lazy smirk.

Then, all the recent events slammed into me. I blinked as anger ripped through me. That good-for-nothing slime ruined my relationship with Shep.

Exhaustion flooded me as I gestured to write. The doctor handed me a whiteboard and marker. Then, I communicated with everyone that way. Afterward, I dropped the whiteboard and stared at the ceiling.

I was angry at myself for not listening to Shep and ruining my relationship. Now I'm stuck in a bed with a tube down my throat and up my nose. Great.

*******
Shepherd

Larry, Lawson, and I tried to talk to Maury. He refused to communicate with us and stared at the ceiling. We stayed until visiting hours ended. I left so Larry and Lawson could hash out their issues.

I climbed into my truck and peeled away. I needed help with this situation. Who better than my brothers?

I pulled into the driveway, drove to the house, and parked. I got out and strolled into the house as Waylon and Beau were in the kitchen with Patsy and Mary. I whistled to my brothers.

Waylon and Beau glanced at me before nodding and leaving the house with me. I walked to the truck as they followed me.

"What's going on, Shep?" Waylon asked.

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