Damn Good Reasons **DISCONTINUED - SEE NEW VER!**

43 We All Fall Down

Hey guys :)  There's a lot of work in this one... phew.  I'm sure you'll understand why it took me so long.  Btw... err... you might wanna sit down for this.  Lol.  Hope you enjoy it!

Everyone flinched at the suddenness of it, and Vern's eyes went so wide that the entire whites could be seen as he extended his ear to listen for more. But, I bet no one was more disturbed by Ace's presence than I was.

You know that feeling you get when you drive too fast over a small hill? That's what I felt. I got that quick hit of horrible and unsettling nausea in my stomach. Sure, I could smile and joke and laugh with Chris for a time, but under that layer of joy, my grief was still raw. Hearing Ace's voice melted that layer away, exposing my grief to the air and the elements, leaving it tender to the touch.

"Nothin' to worry about, huh?" Teddy scowled at me, his top lip curling.

"Just chill out, Teddy." Chris twisted to look out the window behind him, his eye peering through the one tiny clear patch that wasn't stained yellow from cigarette smoke.

"Is it all of them?" Gordie asked.

"I don't think so. Looks like it's just Ace. Any idea what he wants?" Chris asked me.

I shook my head no.

"Cassie!" Ace's voice rang out.

Teddy scowled at me through his thick-rimmed glasses, his bottom lip pursing into his top.

"You're right," I muttered. "It's my fault he's here." I took a breath and then reached for the hatch.

"Cass," Chris said, "you don't have to do this if you don't want to." His expression was soft and sympathizing, and I'm sure he was aware of the dread I was feeling.

"He's not going away unless I do what he says."

"I'll come with you then." Chris rose from his barrel seat, but I pushed on his shoulders to make him sit down again.

"No. I'll go. He'll want to talk, that's it. And if you go down there, feathers will get ruffled, and we don't want this turning into another ugly confrontation. Stay here."

Chris nodded, and his shoulders relaxed to sit tight. Good boy.

I got the hatch up - with Teddy's willing help - and my legs felt like jelly as I made the six or seven rungs last long enough for me to get my head together... to some degree.

The guy that had always sent me breathless stood just a few yards away, his loyal '49 Ford Custom at his side. With fists in his tightly folded arms, his jaw was clenched as he glared at me with a slight squint at the corners of his eyes. Those arms - so many times had I woken up to find myself tucked up inside them, his bare chest warm against my back. But his eyes - those stony blues I once fell for looked less and less familiar as the weeks went by. Seeing them reddened from lack of sleep was usual these days, but as he stood before me then, the dark smudges beneath were burrowed so deep that his eyes looked eerily hollow.

"Well, what the fuck do you know about this?" he said.  "I'm out here handling shit while you're playing forts with a bunch of bratty kids."

"Can you make this quick?  It's my turn to load the cannons."

"Is that supposed to be funny? Do you know what the fuck I just did for you?"

I was taken aback. "Sorry..." I cleared my throat. "What's going on?"

Ace reached into his car and grabbed a series of about eight photographs and shoved them at me.

In the first photo, it wasn't clear what I was looking at. Things were dark and grainy, and all I could make out was the rear-end of a car and a license plate. But, as I flicked through each photo in the series, the story they told choked the breath from my body. A figure came into view and stood next to the car - it was a woman, slim, my height, stupid, obviously - opened the car door, got in, and drove away. The license plate and my face were crystal clear in these photos; it was the ultimate evidence of this car's fate.