You know that it’s unacceptable to me, and to her, for you to cop feels or whatever the hell you want to call it whenever the opportunity presents itself. Right?"He nodded and looked at his feet. "Right. It’s never gonna happen again. Because of all those things. And... because I’m leaving."
Bette stopped dead in her tracks and this time Richard did walk into her. "Oh, sorry. I wasn’t trying to ‘cop a feel’, honest."
"You’re leaving?" Bette asked, oblivious to his apology and to the slight collision that preceded it. "You’re leaving?", she asked again.
"How can you leave? We just found Cora. We still don’t know what to do about her father. We need to make sure she’s safe. You can’t just-"
"Hold on. Calm down. I’m taking care of all of that. OK? You don’t need to worry about that. I’m gonna feed his fellas some bogus info to lead them back home and then I’ll...take care of it." His furtive eyes turned cold and dark. So cold that Bette hugged herself slightly in an attempt to warm herself from the chill that just made company with her spine.
"So, is that why you stopped me from telling her about her father? Because you’re gonna ‘take care of it’? Do I want to know anything more?", she asked cautiously.
"No", he said simply.
Bette considered this. Considered everything she knew of Mr. Buckley. All of the physical and sexual abuse he’d inflicted on his family and god knows who else. She considered the small scared child pretending to be asleep at night in hopes that the bedroom door would stay closed. She became repulsed at the thought of a small child having to fight off a grown man. At the thought of Cora being so accustomed to the nightly visits that she knew any struggle would be futile. She closed her eyes and winced. Moments passed before she finally opened her eyes and looked Richard square in his. "Fair enough. But be careful. When are you leaving?"
"Soon. I have a few things to finish up here. I hope you don’t mind but I’d like to attend the funeral. And then I’ll be on my way.
