A/N: Enjoy!
Chapter 24: 2FNSXY (part 1)
"Given these particularly challenging circumstances, it's a completely organic reaction for everyone at this table to be experiencing feelings of discomfort, distrust, anger, and resentment," a blonde woman who I'd never seen or met before said entirely too passionately to be someone who I'd never seen or met before. "As justifiable as those very valid feelings may be, I believe we can choose another way forward guided by our empathy, and compassion, and—"
And I tuned her voice out to focus all of my attention on my phone.
Come on, Eugene… Text me. Text me. Text me.
A few seconds later, when my phone screen actually lit up from an incoming text, I had to stop myself from squealing. When I saw who was texting me, I had to stop myself from groaning.
Goddamnit.
Daryl: Hey
Daryl: Are you there yet?
Daryl: Whats going on?
Daryl: Whats happening?
It was a struggle of epic proportions to stop myself from rolling my eyes.
Rick and I had just spoken to this man before we left the house. We spent a good ten minutes reassuring him that we'd call him back as soon as we were done dealing with that Piece of Shit Shane. I should've known he couldn't be patient.
Michonne: We got here about 10 mins ago
"Here" was the King County Café. We ended up having to meet that Piece of Shit Shane here because of Rick. He flat-out refused to budge from his stance of shooting that Piece of Shit Shane if he stepped foot on our property, and while I wasn't completely opposed to his line of thinking, my day would be so much less of a headache if I didn't have to deal with that piece of shit bleeding out on my front yard.
And so, here we all were.
Daryl: Where are you sitting?
I had to stop myself from groaning again.
I needed to get back to silently willing Eugene to text me, but I knew Daryl was just getting started with his questions.
Michonne: The long table near the bar
Daryl: Which one?
Daryl: The wobbly one?
Michonne: The one next to the wobbly one
Daryl: Close to the kitchen?
Michonne: No, close to the tv wall
Daryl: The tv wall?
Daryl: How'd you score that table?
Daryl: It's not crowded?
Michonne: It's not
Michonne: It's empty
Daryl: Empty?
Michonne: Ghost town empty, D
Daryl: Damn
Damn, indeed. It was a very rare day when the café wasn't packed during the lunch hour. But today, ours was the only table occupied.
Daryl: You think Annette did that?
Michonne: Yes. Definitely
There was no doubt about it in my mind. Annette and Hershel were good friends with Tammy Rose and Earl, the owners of the café. Almost immediately after telling Gleggie and the Greenes that we'd be meeting that Piece of Shit Shane here, Annette disappeared into the front room with her phone. At the time, I assumed she was having a whispered gossipfest with Birdie, but she must have been talking to Tammy Rose or Earl.
Daryl: Did Lori's boney ass show up?
That question almost made my eye twitch.
Michonne: She did not
While it would've been beyond infuriating for Fucking Lori Grimes to have shown up, her absence was also fucking infuriating! She and I, of course, had unfinished business, but there was also the matter of that limp-haired, bag of bones not once checking in on Pumpkin in the time she'd been in our care.
Fucking.
Lori.
Grimes.
That selfish bitch.
Daryl: What about that asshole?
Daryl: Is he there?
Pumpkin didn't seem to be bothered in the least by Fucking Lori Grimes being MIA, but it was the principle of the matter.
"I'm a mother now, too," she'd said about Pumpkin.
"I can't," she'd said about Nugget.
I held in a deep sigh of disgust.
When I saw Fucking Lori Grimes again, shewas absolutely, positively, 100% getting an extra pun—
Daryl: Focus Chonne
Daryl: Is that asshole there?
Fucking Lori Grimes was getting an extra punch.
Michonne: He's here
I looked across the table at that Piece of Shit Shane. He sat unnaturally erect in his chair with quite the vicious scowl on his face, though he very wisely kept his eyes cast down on the table in front of him. His arms, which were ridiculously massive, were crossed tightly at his chest, also ridiculously massive. That Piece of Shit Shane clearly had a protein powder addiction and spent two too many hours at the gym on a daily basis. The head of thick, curly hair I remembered from fifteen years ago was now shaved down to the scalp with a dusting of hair left behind.
I suppose some might find the shaved head, the muscular bulk, and the vicious scowl intimidating, but I was thoroughly unimpressed by it all.
Michonne: And he brought a friend...
Daryl: The fuck?
Daryl: Who?
Michonne: No idea
Michonne: Some blonde woman
Michonne: She really enjoys the sound of her voice
Michonne: REALLY, REALLY enjoys the sound of her voice
That "REALLY, REALLY" was an understatement. The blonde woman was head over heels in love with sound of her voice. She adored the sound of it so much that every word spoken in the last ten minutes had come from her mouth alone. It took me less than two minutes to peg her as someone who stepped up and took the reins without having a clue about what she was doing, but I couldn't shut her down just yet. The nonstop flow of words somehow kept everyone at the table just calm enough, so I needed her to keep talking until Eugene sent me that text.
Daryl: You can handle her?
Michonne: I can
Daryl: Good
Daryl: And what about Rick?
Daryl: He ok?
Daryl: Cuz he hasnt texted me
And Rick wasn't going to text Daryl because Rick was not ok, but Daryl didn't need to know that. If he knew how not ok Rick was, nothing would stop him from walking off his job and getting here as fast as he could. That wasn't happening. Daryl needed his job, and the café couldn't withstand any more testosterone.
Instead of answering him, I peeked at Rick. Or rather, I peeked at the back of Rick's head. He was sitting to my right at the end of the table, but he'd turned almost completely away from everyone and was facing the café's floor-to-ceiling window. Because of how he was positioned and because of how his KC Sheriff's Department cap was pulled down low covering his eyes, I had no idea if he was squinting. But his head wasn't tilting, so I could handle him being not ok.
I knew how hard it was for Rick to be sitting here with that Piece of Shit Shane. He'd done a phenomenal job of keeping his fury buried while we were getting the babies ready for the day, and drinking our morning cups of coffee, and eating my slightly burned pancakes with Gleggie and the Greenes, but it started to surface the closer we got to the café. When we were just a few blocks away, he was too overwhelmed by his fury to talk. When we were standing outside of the café doors, he was paralyzed by it. I had to force my fingers into his balled fist and whisper reassurances into his ear to bring him out of his state.
Daryl: Chonne is he ok?
I peeked at Rick again, wanting desperately to bury my hand in those curls sticking out every which way from under his hat.
Daryl: I'm on my way!
Goddamnit!
Michonne: Daryl, NO!
Michonne: Gleggie & Beth are here with us!
Michonne: Everything's under control!
Michonne: Get back to work!
Michonne: We'll call when we leave!
Michonne: Love you!
Michonne: Bye!
I swiped out of our text message exchange because I knew Daryl's response would be a dissatisfied grunt as he tossed his phone down.
"Facts are facts are facts are facts," the blonde woman said, "and the most obvious fact is this… United we stand, divided we fall, and—"
And I tuned her out again to get back to silently willing Eugene to text me.
Where are you, Eugene? Text me! Text me! Text me!
Eugene was a colleague of mine specializing in criminal law. Inside the courtroom, he was flawlessness in motion. He used his razor-sharp intellect and masterfully persuasive eloquence to win case after case. His impeccable record put him on the radar of our firm's partners, and he'd recently started working higher profile cases in Atlanta.
Outside of the courtroom, Eugene Porter was a socially awkward catastrophe.
I found this out on his first day at the firm when he went from office to office introducing himself. I happened to be on a conference call with a client when he bypassed my assistant Mika and stood in my doorway. I motioned to him that I was on the phone since he apparently didn't realize I was on the phone, but he remained where he was, staring at me with his beady, unblinking eyes. I wrote "COME BACK LATER" in large, bold letters on a notepad and held it up. He read the message but remained where he was, staring at me with those beady, unblinking eyes.
When the call ended half an hour later, he promptly introduced himself, gave me a lengthy overview of both his personal life and professional background, and complimented my "hair game". He then tossed his footlong, braided ponytail over his shoulder and headed to the next office to make another introduction.
When Eugene wasn't being awkward, he was being rude. I witnessed the time he grew bored and walked away while David, an immigration attorney at the firm, was in the middle of telling a group of us how he proposed to his girlfriend Betsy. I witnessed the time he shoulder-checked a young intern to get to the last donut in the breakroom, which he bit into and spit out because of the raspberry filling. I witnessed the time he pulled a tuna fish sandwich from his pocket in a crowded elevator at the end of a 14-hour workday.
Like most at the firm, I respected Eugene but could only tolerate his presence. After today, that would change.
I would never be too busy when he stood in my doorway wanting to talk about his bizarre weekend exploits—and they were always bizarre. I would stop turning down his once a week lunch invites. I would stop telling Mika to screen his calls.
After today, I would forever be indebted to Eugene because of how he was helping me make Panty Man pay. For the heinous and unforgivable crimes of ruining my Nugget's first birthday and bringing Fucking Lori Grimes back into my life, Panty Man was going to suffer. Severely.
Everyone at the firm knew how much Eugene loathed Panty Man—the two were embroiled in a fierce parking space battle—but that wasn't why I approached him. Eugene had the skillset and the connections I needed to take Panty Man down without either of us being implicated. His response to my request for his assistance came without hesitation or reservation: "In the words of Becca Kufrin, star of the fourteenth and inarguably best season of The Bachelorette in terms of both ratings and the sublime content on the scrupulously delicate matters of the heart, 'let's do the damn thing!'"
Since the damn thing we were doing wasn't exactly legal or ethical, it was alarming to not have heard from Eugene two and half hours after he was supposed to have checked in.
"Lori may be using sweet, little Judith as a pawn, but that isn't a game we have to willingly play," the blonde woman said, distracting me from my phone. "We can write the rules and—"
And I tuned her out again when Glenn shifted in the chair on my left. Glenn's eyes were locked on that Piece of Shit Shane, who he was sitting directly across from, and he had a look on his face that I'd only seen once before… right before he punched Panty Man.
Shit.
If the person who was supposed to be keeping the two Greenes at the table calm was no longer calm...
Shit!
I looked down at my phone.
TEXT ME! TEXT ME! TEXT ME!
"I believe in full transparency, so it's only right that I share this truth with you," the blonde said. "I am fully aware of the nature of Shane and Lori's… entanglement."
I looked up from my phone.
Entangle—what?!
Rick's already tense body tensed even more, but since his head wasn't tilting, it was Maggie's loud sigh that had me worried. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her grab her phone off the table.
My phone screen lit up almost immediately with a text.
Maggie: Who is this bitch?
Shit.
Michonne: Safe words, Maggie!
Maggie: Texts don't count Michonne!
Maggie: Who is this B
Maggie: I
Maggie: T
Maggie: C
Maggie: H
Maggie: Bitch!
Maggie: Bitch!
Maggie: Bitch!
Oh my God.
Maggie had gone "bitch" crazy.
Michonne: I have no idea, Mag
I could hear her fingers pounding against her phone as she typed out another message.
Maggie: Then why is this BITCH talking?
Shit.
I couldn't exactly admit to Maggie that we were suffering through the blonde's yammering because I was waiting on my accomplice to give me an update on the status of my Panty Man revenge plan. Maggie would murder me, resuscitate me, and then murder me again for not consulting her on a revenge plan.
I gripped the M charm on my necklace and twisted it from side to side while I figured out what to tell her.
Maggie: When do I get to talk!
Shit!
My hand tightened around my M charm. When I felt the chain of my necklace digging into the back of my neck, I let the charm go before my necklace snapped.
Michonne: Maggie, we discussed this…
Michonne: You're here for moral support, remember?
Michonne: Rick and I will do all the talking
Michonne: Let's just hear her out, ok?
Maggie slammed her phone down on the table.
Fuck.
Undeterred by Maggie's outburst, the blonde woman continued on. "We have an obligation to Judith and to ourselves to bridge our differences and—"
And I tuned her out when out of the corner of my eye, I saw Beth, who was sitting on the other side of Maggie at the other end of the table, reach for her phone.
My phone screen lit up almost immediately.
Beth: Who the hell is blondie?
Fuck!
Michonne: I have no idea
Michonne: And you're blonde, Beth…
Beth: A
Beth: (hand clap emoji)
Beth: NATURAL
Beth: (hand clap emoji)
Beth: BLONDE
Beth: (hand clap emoji)
Beth: Do you not see her roots?
Beth: Unacceptable AF!
Beth: And when's it my turn to talk?
Oh my God.
Michonne: Beth, you're here for moral support
Beth: …
Beth: …
Beth: …
Beth: What's that?
My jaw dropped. Was she—
Michonne: Are you asking what moral support is?
Beth: Yeah
Beth: What is it?
"Oh my God," I whispered to myself.
Michonne: Beth, we talked about this over breakfast
Beth: Michonne, I was eating!
Beth: I don't listen when I eat!
Beth: You know this!
"Oh my God," I groaned quietly to myself.
After Maggie and Beth were chosen as the two Greenes to join us at the café, I'd spent a good twenty minutes explaining to them what the café protocols were.
But Beth was eating.
And Beth didn't listen when she ate.
I knew this.
Michonne: Moral support means you don't get a turn to talk, Beth…
Beth: …
Beth: …
Beth: …
Beth: Oh
Beth: No thank you
No thank you?!
My eyes jumped to Beth, and I watched in dread as she gently placed her phone on the table with a content, little smile on her face.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
I was about to text her that "No thank you" wasn't an option, but a new text message icon appeared before I could. If Daryl was texting me again, I swear to God I was going to scream.
EP: My utmost apologies for the extreme tardiness of this hush-hush communique.
Eugene!
EP: A hiccup, neither of the detrimental nor prolonged variety, delayed my efforts.
EP: Rest assured; Operation PMPM is still a go.
EP: Phase 1 is complete.
EP: Phase 2 is underway.
I had to stop myself from wiggling in excitement.
Michonne: (thumbs up emoji)
EP: (brain emoji) (mouse emoji) (snake emoji) (weightlifting emoji) (chicken leg emoji) (peanut emoji) (peanut emoji) (peanut emoji) (pot of honey emoji) (chocolate bar emoji) (fist bump emoji)
I had no idea what that response was supposed to convey, but I didn't care. Panty Man was going down, and he was going to suffer.
And now that I'd heard from Eugene, I could finally take contr—
"Excuse me," Maggie said uncharacteristically politely, shooting her hand into the air.
Uh oh.
"Yes?" the blonde woman asked, completely oblivious to what she was walking into.
Oh no.
Maggie lowered her hand and gave the blonde the content, little smile I'd just seen on Beth's face.
Oh shit.
"Bitch, who are you and why won't you stop talkin'?" Maggie asked very loudly and very rudely.
I rubbed the bridge of my nose and waited for Glenn's loving reprimand to use safe words. When it didn't automatically come, I swiveled my head to look at Glenn. He was still glaring at that Piece of Shit Shane, except now a vein was popping in his neck.
Oh fuck!
"Excuse me," the blonde frowned, "but as a woman who stands proudly in the glory of womanhood, I have to tell you I take great offense to the use of that word. It is vile, it is demeaning, and we as women have to be better than using it to tear each other down."
Maggie and Beth stared at her with their faces twisted identically in confusion.
"We may have just met," the blonde said, looking intently at Maggie, "but you are my sister, and as my sister's keeper, I am telling you that you are no bitch. She is no bitch," she said, gesturing to Beth. "She is no bitch," she said, gesturing to me. "And I am no bitch. I am a sisterfriend, and my name is Andrea."
There was a heavy silence before Maggie turned to me with livid green eyes.
"Michonne!" she complained.
I…
I was at a loss.
There was a lot to unpack there, and the "sisterfriend" was throwing me off.
I needed a minute.
"How could you do it?" Glenn asked in a quiet, repulsed voice. He was still staring at the Piece of Shit Shane. The vein was still popping in his neck. "How could you do that to Rick?"
That Piece of Shit Shane looked up from the table and eyed Glenn. With a smirk on his face that was begging to be slapped off, he spoke for the first time.
"You don't know dick about dick."
Rick's reaction to hearing that Piece of Shit Shane's voice went unnoticed by everyone else, but I caught how his shoulders tightened just a fraction more. It was still impossible to see if he was squinting, but there was no way he wasn't squinting right now. To keep his head from tilting, I discreetly started rubbing his lower back, hoping my touch would be calming.
"I know a thing or two," Glenn replied, his voice low, rumbling.
That Piece of Shit Shane sat back in his chair with his ridiculous smirk still fixed in place. Glenn sat back, mirroring that Piece of Shit Shane. They seemed to be silently daring each other to be the one to blink first.
"Alright, I'll bite," that Piece of Shit Shane said, blinking. "Whatchu got? What is it you think you know?"
"I know Rick is one of the best men I know," Glenn easily replied. "I know he's one of the best men in King County."
That Piece of Shit Shane scoffed. "Is that it?"
"No, it's not," Glenn answered. "I know you have to be a pretty big piece of shit to sleep with Lori and to be ok with her walking away from Carl how she did."
Fucking Lori Grimes.
That Piece of Shit Shane.
That Piece of Shit Shane's smirk dimmed without disappearing. "Is that it?" he asked in a gruffer voice.
"No," Glenn answered. "I know the little girl you think is yours might be Rick's."
That knocked the smirk right off that Piece of Shit Shane's face.
"Might be? She's definitely a Grimes," Maggie lied, letting go of Andrea's denunciation of "bitch" to pounce on that Piece of Shit Shane.
Both his and Andrea's faces were the ones twisted in confusion now.
"Lori didn't tell you?" Beth asked, joining in on the pouncing. "She banged Rick right after bangin' you. Or she banged you right after bangin' Rick. Either way, both your penises were inside that skank within hours of each other."
"Such a skank move," Maggie chimed in.
"Classic skank move," Beth agreed.
That Piece of Shit Shane looked utterly dumbfounded. Finding out the ho you hoed around with had hoed around on you must've been a bit shocking. The only downside of Maggie and Beth targeting that Piece of Shit Shane was the effect it was having on Rick. He was well-aware of the ho behavior, but hearing it out loud was not good for his not ok state.
His right leg was now bouncing steadily.
But his head wasn't tilting.
I continued to rub small circles into his lower back.
"That ain't true," that Piece of Shit Shane sneered, fully recovered from the shock of learning his ho was a ho.
"But it is," Maggie retorted. "Call your ho and ask."
"And make sure you talk about who Judith was named after," Beth gleefully suggested.
"I know who my babygirl was named after," he growled. "Judith Mueller. Lori's third grade teacher,"
"Wrong!" Maggie and Beth sang in perfect harmony.
"She's named after Judith Grimes… Rick's mama," Beth gleefully informed him.
That Piece of Shit Shane's nostrils flared.
"Bullshit," he growled.
"No, it's not," Beth growled back. "She looks exactly like her, too. That's what everyone says," she lied.
"Bullshit!" that Piece of Shit Shane roared.
"No, it's not!" Beth roared back.
Rick's leg was now bouncing vigorously.
But his head wasn't tilting.
I slid my hand across his lower back and curled it around his waist.
"Hey, y'all!" Tammy Rose cooed, appearing tableside with a pitcher of ice water. "Everythang ok over here, y'all?"
Her words and her big smile exuded Southern charm, but I could also see the carefully concealed concern in her eyes. If I was seeing what she was seeing, I'd be concerned, too. Beth and that piece of Shit Shane were in a roaring match; Gleggie was glaring at the Piece of Shit Shane; Andrea looked like she'd be clutching her pearls if she was wearing them; Rick's back was turned on all of it; and there was no telling what I looked like, but everyone had probably chipped away at my unflappably cool exterior.
"Tammy Rose, you knew Rick's mama before Rick's parents passed, didn't you?" Maggie asked, her glare still aimed at that Piece of Shit Shane.
"For almost forty years," Tammy Rose answered with a genuine smile of affection. "As she liked to say, 'from no titties to old biddies!'" she laughed.
I gave Rick's side a little squeeze. That sounded just like his mom.
"And when you saw baby Judith for the first time—" Maggie started to question before Tammy Rose cut her off.
"Spittin' image of Rick's mama," she lied with a bigger, more sugary sweet smile. "That darky, curly hair… those big, brown eyes… Judith Grace Grimes reincarnated!"
Tammy Rose glanced at Rick—well, the back of Rick, and threw me an apologetic look.
"If y'all need somethin', give me a holler, ok, y'all?" she chirped, looking around the table.
When no one answered, I gave her a polite smile. "Thanks, Tammy Rose."
"Ok, y'all… Bye, y'all!" she chirped before hurrying back to wherever she and Earl were hiding out.
Maggie gave that Piece of Shit Shane an "I told you so" smirk.
Beth cackled. "Imagine bein' a private investigator so shitty at investigatin' you literally can't see what's in front of you," she commented.
"Shane's not shitty!" Andrea interjected. "He's rated very highly on Yelp, and we never knew—"
"Andy, don't waste your breath. It doesn't matter," that Piece of Shit Shane grumbled. "It doesn't matter what they say. It doesn't matter if Lori… It doesn't matter! It doesn't matter because Judy is my babygirl. My babygirl. Mine! She ain't a Grimes," he sneered, shooting Rick a look of contempt. "She's a Walsh!"
Glenn shook his head. "Only DNA can say for sure. And because of Lori's…"
"Skank ho ways," Maggie offered.
"Because of that," Glenn continued, "there's technically a fifty-fifty chance she's a Grimes."
That Piece of Shit Shane laughed a little to himself before blowing out a long, frustrated breath and manically rubbed his head with both hands.
Andrea started to reach out to him but drew her hand back.
"Ok," that Piece of Shit Shane mumbled to himself. "Ok, ok, ok… Ok!"
He blew out a quick breath, sat back in his chair, and glowered at Glenn.
"I guess I do know dick," Glenn said smugly.
Oh, Glenn.
"About dick—Looks like I know dick about dick."
Oh, Glenn. No.
"Looks like I know things," he clarified.
That Piece of Shit Shane stared at Glenn without a trace of emotion on his face.
"Yeah, well, I know some thangs, too, Glenn," he replied darkly. "That's your name, ain't it? Glenn Rhee? From Michigan? Son of Jin and Sun. Older brother to Gabbi, Grace, and Glynn. You moved to KC six years ago and opened that pizza joint over on Hilltop Road.
"And I know you're Margaret Greene. KC's very own girl gone wild," he chuckled humorlessly. "Barely graduated from high school, didn't try to go to college—but hey, I ain't judgin'. Nuthin' wrong with shootin' the shit and havin' a good time. Congrats, by the way. Due in about seven months, right?
"And I know you're Bethanne Greene. Unlike your big sis, you coulda got into one of those brainiac schools. You had the grades, you had the full rides, but you're a farmgirl true and blue. And just like your big sis, you don't shy away from a good time."
"You know how to Google. And?" Beth asked, unimpressed.
And if you're Bethanne, and you're Margaret, and you're Glenn, and if Daryl's workin' a double-shift today, that must mean my babygirl is with Hershel and Annette."
Beth stared at him, giving away nothing.
"Annette's a piece'a work, but let's talk about your daddy Hershel," that Piece of Shit Shane said with an icy smile. "By most accounts, your daddy is a fine, upstandin' member of the community. He's an army man turned preacher turned farmer. Very respectable shit, and I do thank him for his service," he said, saluting. "But your daddy has a bit of a problem, doesn't he? He's one of those types that's predisposed to drinkin', ain't that right? And from what I hear, it's bourbon that rings your daddy's bell. But he ain't real picky about what he knocks back, is he? From what I hear, he'll drink whatever. And people who drink whatever will do whatever to get a drink of whatever… So, I wanna know," he snarled, "is he who my babygirl is with right now? A drunk old man?"
Maggie slammed her fist on the table. "Say one more thing about my daddy, and I swear to God those'll be the last words that come out your mouth today!"
"Maggie, calm down," Glenn told her tenderly, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer.
She looked at Glenn with watery green eyes. "He can't talk about daddy like that!"
"He can't," Glenn reassured her, kissing her sweetly on the forehead. "I got this."
"Glenn, sit!" Beth ordered when he started to get up. "Maggie, chill! Glenn, make sure Maggie chills! I got this." She turned her blazing blues on that Piece of Shit Shane. "You're drivin' a black 2014 Chevy Camaro with license plate 2FNSXY. You're stayin' at the King County Inn in room 227. After checkin' in this mornin' at 6:42, you had a cup of decaffeinated coffee, no sugar, no cream, and you didn't thank the front desk clerk for givin' it to you. FYI, her name is Olivia, not 'sweetie' and not 'honey'. We know all about you, too, asshole. And if you know about us Greenes, then you know what'll happen if you don't keep my daddy's name out your mouth. So, go ahead. Speak my daddy's name again. I dare you."
That Piece of Shit Shane very stupidly smirked, leaned forward towards Beth, and started to open his mouth to speak.
"Whoa! Time out, everybody! Let's just take a second!" Andrea intervened, pulling that Piece of Shit Shane back by his shirt. "This is an emotional time for us all," she tried to reason with Beth. "You have to understand that Shane's a father separated from his child. He—"
"Why are you still talkin'?!" Beth shouted.
"As Shane's fiancé—"
"Wait, WHAT?!" I exploded, dropping my hand from Rick's waist. "This is why Lori's here? Because you have a new girlfriend?"
"Fiancé," Andrea corrected me.
I narrowed my eyes at her and she cowered closer to that Piece of Shit Shane.
"And she speaks," that Piece of Shit Shane said sarcastically to me. "Hey, 'Chonne. How you doin'? Me? Not so hot seein' as how you people won't give me my daughter!"
"It's Michonne!" Rick thundered, whipping around in his chair to face that Piece of Shit Shane. "Watch how you talk to her," he warned, gripping my thigh protectively.
"Well, goddamn!" that Piece of Shit Shane hooted, slamming his palm down on the table. "You finally joinin' the conversation, too? You put your big boy pants on? You ready to talk man to man?"
"As if anyone at this table thinks you're a man," Beth grumbled, grabbing her phone and looking down at the screen.
"You know what?" that Piece of Shit Shane scowled. "I'm gettin' real tired—"
"Shane, stop!" Andrea scolded.
She stood, pulled that Piece of Shit Shane up by his arm, and dragged him a few tables away to talk him down from being so stupid, I suppose.
While those two figured their shit out, I took Rick in, relieved to finally be seeing his face again. Well, the side of his face—even if the side of his face was reflecting how not ok he was. His jaw was once again clenched sharply, his lips were jutted out in an angry pout, his neck and cheek were a volatile red, his nostril was flared, and though his eyes were barely visible under his hat, he was definitely squinting at that Piece of Shit Shane.
But his head wasn't tilting.
That Piece of Shit Shane was really testing Rick's limits, though.
He was testing all of our limits.
I covered Rick's hand with mine and looked at Gleggie and Beth to check on them. All three of their heads were huddled together looking down at Beth's phone.
"Read that part!" Beth told Gleggie.
"You'll have to excuse us for stepping away," Andrea apologized as she and that Piece of Shit Shane settled back into their chairs. "I think we—"
Maggie gasped loudly and popped up from her chair.
"We gotta go!" she announced.
My stomach dropped.
Nugget?
Pumpkin?
"It's a barn situation," Maggie vaguely explained, reading my mind.
Oh.
Oh shit!
Birdie mentioned that there'd been some kind of a mishap in the barn last night, but because that Piece of Shit Shane called so early, it slipped my mind to tell Annette. I turned to Rick to have a silent conversation about leaving with Gleggie and Beth.
"No!" Maggie shouted before Rick and I could converse. "We'll go home. You stay here and deal with this piece of shit," she glared at that Piece of Shit Shane.
"Does this have to do with Judith?" he demanded to know.
"Is your daughter a pig on the loose in our barn? No, she's not! Mind your damn business, jackass!" Beth snapped.
Maggie took Glenn's hand and nudged Beth in her back to get her to start walking.
"Call you later! Love you! Bye!" she called out over her shoulder as they rushed out.
That was… odd.
I turned to Rick and waited for him to adjust his hat so that we could talk.
"That was odd, right?" I silently asked when I could clearly see his eyes.
There were a lot of emotions swirling around in those eyes, but he didn't seem too concerned about Gleggie and Beth.
"That was odd," he silently agreed.
"Should we head to the barn?" I silently asked.
"If you want to, we will. But I think the babies are fine," he silently answered.
Andrea cleared her throat. "As I was saying, I think we—"
"Andy, why don't you give the three of us a minute to talk," that Piece of Shit Shane said to her.
Her mouth flopped open in shock.
"Excuse me?" she asked after composing herself.
"I need a minute," that Piece of Shit Shane told her, looking away dismissively.
"But I convinced you to meet them here. It was my idea to talk this out!" she hissed.
"It was," he nodded, staring at his fingers as he drummed them on the table. "Do you know what I remember about this place, Andy?" he asked. "They made the best cherry cokes here. They'd drop the sweetest, juiciest cherries right in the coke," he said, looking at her again. "Why don't you go order a couple of glasses for us at the bar?"
"Shane, I really don't—"
"Or go give your sister a call," he suggested. "Or map out a route to the Greene farm. Go do anything else, Andy, as long as you're doin' it away from the table."
They exchanged hostile glares until she got up in a huff and stormed out the café.
It took every ounce of self-control for me not to call Maggie and give her a word-by-word recount of what just happened.
"Ok," that Piece of Shit Shane breathed out, rubbing his head. "No distractions. Just the three of us."
That Piece of Shit Shane.
"You view your fiancé as a distraction?" I deadpanned.
"At this moment? Yes, I do, Michonne."
Rick's grip tightened on my thigh.
"It's Ms. Danvers," I shot back.
"Ms. Danvers, it is," he smirked. "Fifteen years ago, Ms. Danvers, it was just the three of us at that table right over there with Lori," that Piece of Shit Shane said, looking over his shoulder at the table where Rick first introduced us. "It's only right that it's just the three of us right here, right now."
I held my breath when Rick tilted his head to the left… but then he tilted it to the right to crack his neck.
That wasn't good, but his head wasn't resting in a tilt.
"I get it… I'm a piece'a shit. I'm an asshole. I'm a jackass," that Piece of Shit Shane rightfully acknowledged. "I'm all that, but I'm also a father, and I love my little girl. I miss my little girl. Judith Walsh is my heart, so, I'm askin'—I'm beggin' you, father to father, bring me my daughter."
If I set aside the piece of shit part of Shane and looked at that piece of shit as a parent, my heart hurt for him. Pumpkin was his daughter, and the pain in his eyes from not being able to hold her was very real. But this was Rick's decision to make, and I knew what his decision would be.
"No," he replied simply.
That Piece of Shit Shane's fist clenched.
"Listen, man," he said through gritted teeth, "I don't know what Lori's up to, but Judith ain't yours. She wasn't named after your mama. She ain't the spittin' image of your mama. You know it's true, Rick."
"Until I know she's not a Grimes, she's a Grimes," Rick stated evenly.
As calm as Rick appeared to be, I knew better. That Piece of Shit Shane was probably one inflammatory comment away from a head tilt. I needed to start working on an exit strategy.
"So that's it? You just gonna keep my babygirl from me?"
"If she's yours, if that's what the DNA test says, you'll get her back tomorrow," Rick stated evenly.
"Tomorrow?!" that Piece of Shit Shane raged. "Nah, man! That shit doesn't fly! I want my babygirl now! You think I won't kick down every door in this town to find her? You think I won't involve the law? You think I won't get your ass fired for this?"
Rick reached into his pocket and tossed his phone onto the table.
"Call Sheriff Kendal. I have his cell phone number, his direct line at the department, and his wife's number, if you need it," Rick said in a low growl.
Shit.
"You remember Kendal, don't you?" Rick asked that Piece of Shit Shane. "He was just our trainin' officer at the Academy back then, but yeahhhhh, he remembers you. I'm sure your concerns will be a top priority."
"Fuck!" that Piece of Shit Shane shouted. "What're you lookin' for here? You want all the dirty details? You wanna know the why, the where, the how? You want an apology? Here you go—I'm sorry you weren't man enough to keep Lori satisfied. I'm sorry you couldn't deliver when it mattered and put a baby in her belly. I'm sorry your wife was cryin' out my name, in my bed when you thought she was out runnin' errands. I'm sorry she didn't wanna live the rest of her life with vanilla, mediocre, forgettable you."
Fuck.
Fuck!
Fuck!
Fuck!
Fucking fuckity fuck!
That Fucking Piece of Shit Shane!
Fuck!
"We're done," I said, turning to Rick. "Let's go."
I had no idea what that Piece of Shit Shane could do, but I knew what Rick was capable of, and Nugget was not growing up with his daddy behind bars.
"Rick," I said, cupping his jaw and forcing his face towards mine.
"Judith is my babygirl! Walsh blood runs through her veins! She comes from my seed!" that Piece of Shit Shane ranted.
"Rick!" I said more firmly.
When his eyes met mine, all I could see was an all-encompassing hatred darkening his sky blues. Rick was past the bite a neck out level of furious. He was at a rip a beating heart out level.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
I could feel his head starting to tilt, but I fought against it, cupping his face with both my hands to keep his head upright.
That Piece of Shit Shane continued ranting and raving, and as much as I wanted to unleash Rick, I held onto him tight.
"We gotta go, Rick. Right now."
His eyes began to rove back to that Piece of Shit Shane.
"Richard!" I snapped, regaining his attention. "Hey," I whispered, slowly running one of my thumbs up and down the corner of his mouth.
When his eyes softened just a bit, I silently told him, "I know you want to kick his ass. I want you to kick his ass. Daryl wants you to kick his ass. Gleggie does, Beth does, Hershel and Annette do. We all want this for you, but I can't have you ripping out beating hearts, Rick. We have to go.
"Please," I silently said.
The intensity in his eyes instantly died down.
After a moment of internal struggle, Rick gave me a slight nod. He was beyond disgruntled about letting go of the fight, but I silently rejoiced when he stood and extended his hand to help me up.
"Sit your ass back down, Rick Grimes!" that Piece of Shit Shane growled. "You ain't leaving! This ain't over!"
"It's over!" I snapped as I stood. "Grady Memorial. 9AM. Third floor. Don't be late!"
"You speakin' for Rick now?" that Piece of Shit Shane fumed as I reached for Rick's phone.
"I told you to watch how you speak to her!" Rick barked.
"Rick!" I whispered sharply, squeezing his hand. "He's not worth it," I silently told him. "We—"
"Well ain't that some shit?!" that Piece of Shit Shane bellowed. "Lori wasn't lyin'. All this time she was right about you," he mused, staring at Rick's hand wrapped around mine. "Goddamn, Rick! It must really burn you up, man," he laughed, "knowin' I had your wife last… and our girl 'Chonne first."
Wh—
Before I could get through my What the fuck?! thought, Rick was soaring headfirst through the air into that Piece of Shit Shane. The two tumbled backwards in Shane's chair and landed hard when his chair crashed to the floor, shattering.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion after that… Rick mounting that Piece of Shit Shane and punching his face with his right fist, his left fist, his right fist… That Piece of Shit Shane blocking Rick's fourth punch and punching Rick in the side… That Piece of Shit Shane headbutting Rick… That Piece of Shit Shane throwing Rick off of him into the chairs of another table… That Piece of Shit Shane sluggishly standing and taunting Rick… Rick getting up and running full force at That Piece of Shit Shane, his momentum carrying them both through the café's window and onto the sidewalk…
"Holy Mary, Mother of Christ," Earl muttered.
I didn't even realize Earl and Tammy Rose were standing by my side.
All I could see was that Rick wasn't moving.
Rick wasn't moving, and it felt like the world stopped.
It felt like my heart stopped.
Get up, Rick.
Get up.
I gasped and grasped Tammy Roses's arm in absolute relief when Rick's foot twitched.
"Don't just stand there gawkin', Earl! Call for an ambulance!" Tammy Rose ordered.
"Sweet Jesus on the cross," he muttered, rushing off.
A few feet away from Rick, that Piece of Shit Shane started writhing around and groaning in pain. Similar to Rick, he was laid out flat on his back.
I hoped that Piece of Shit Shane was suffering immensely.
"Make it two ambulances, Earl!" Tammy Rose shouted.
I watched Rick's legs jerk around as he came back to life, and exhaled a very long, thankful sigh.
"Three ambulances, Earl! I don't think blondie's gonna make it!" Tammy Rose shouted when Andrea's hysterical screams drowned out both Rick and that Piece of Shit Shane's groans.
My heart ached in the most excruciating way when Rick attempted to sit up but fell back in obvious pain. He was able to sit up on his third attempt, but by then blood was gushing down his face, painting most of it a grotesque red.
I'd never…
I'd never seen his face like that before.
I never wanted to see it like that again.
My eyes started to fill with tears.
Goddamnit, Rick!
Tammy Rose tsked and gave my arm a reassuring pat. "That baldheaded bastard deserved it, didn't he?" she asked.
He did.
"He did," I nodded.
"Damn right he did!" Tammy Rose boomed. "If Rick didn't toss him out, Earl would've! Earl would've tried, at least. You know he has that bad back… and his knee's never been right after scorin' that winnin' touchdown in high school."
The blood from Rick's face was streaming down to his badly torn white t-shirt, staining it a bright red.
Goddamnit, Rick.
"He'll pay for the damage," I mumbled to Tammy Rose, needing to focus on something other than the horrific sight that was Rick Grimes.
"Nonsense! Rick just hulked out and went through the window! The café's gonna make a fortune!" Tammy Rose grinned. "I'm already thinkin' about addin' a Hulk platter to the menu, and maybe chargin' extra to sit at the tv wall table. Sweetie, don't you dare worry yourselves about that window! It'll be paid for by the end of tonight's dinner rush."
I watched Rick pull his legs up to rest his arms on his bent knees before dropping his head down. He winced the entire time.
I quickly wiped away a tear.
"You know… his mama would be over the moon about the two of you," Tammy Rose said softly. "His daddy, too. And they'd be so proud of him for throwin' that turd outta my restaurant! So, go easy on him, Michonne. 'Cuz there's no Richonne without the Michonne."
I smiled to myself over the first part of what she said and rolled my eyes over the second part. "Richonne" apparently was a thing now.
"Wait here a second," she said, darting to the bar and returning with a hand towel. "For Rick," she told me. "Now go check on your man."
I gave her a big hug before walking out the window. I tried to step around the broken glass, but there was so much scattered around that it was impossible to step around it. Every step I took towards Rick was marked by the sound of glass crunching beneath my shoes.
When the crunching stopped, when I was standing in front of Rick, he raised his head and looked up at me. His blue eyes popped against the sea of red surrounding them, which made it easy for me to see that something was brewing in those eyes.
I held the towel out to him.
He stared at it a beat, took it from me, and slowly returned his eyes to mine.
Another beat passed.
Then, came the eye squint.
Then, came the head tilt.
My eyes widened in surprise and then quickly narrowed.
Rick was pissed.
But Rick was pissed at me.
What the fuck?!
A/N:
Thank you for reading! Reviews are very much appreciated. #KeepRichonneAlive
Chapter 25 will pick up in Michonne's favorite place—the ER. She's pissed, Rick's pissed, that Piece of Shit Shane's pissed, Andrea's pissed. Everyone is pissed. Lol.
Thanks for your patience with this story! And a huge thank you to those who checked in on the status of Contractions over the last year or so. We only have about five chapters to go. We're almost there!
I hope to release the following by the end of the year:
Final chapter of Third Time's the Charm
Final chapter of Valentine's Day is for Suckers
Chapter 25: 2FNSXY (part 2)
My One Wish (A Richonne Christmas story)
This is a goal not a guarantee, but I will try to get these chapters out! :)
Stay safe! Wear a mask! Practice social distancing! Black Lives Matter! Vote early! Save the USPS!