Believe It Or Not (An Eddie Munson Story)

Heated

Eddie's POV: 

We get back to Ripley's house and settle in, picking a movie, grabbing some snacks, and cuddling on the couch. I lean back with my legs propped up on the ottoman with Ripley curled into my side. I stroke her soft hair absently as the other hand shovels popcorn into my gaping mouth. I get really into the movie, some action flick that I can't remember the name to, and my eyes are glued to the screen as a fist fight takes place, watching the chaos unfold. I jostle forward slightly, surprised by a bomb going off on screen and I finally peek down at Ripley. She's sleeping softly against my chest, her lips slightly parted and her breathing coming evenly. I pull the blanket she has draped over her waist more snugly around her shoulders and smile. She's had such a long day, she deserves a good rest. I adjust slightly so I'm more comfortable and turn back to the movie, getting back into it. 

Some times passes and the phone suddenly rings. I look over at the clock on the wall and realize it's almost eleven at night and my eyebrows furrow. I gently push Ripley off of me and settle her back into the couch. I tiptoe over to the phone and pick it up. 

"Marro residence," I answer and there is a long pause on the other line. 

"An inmate from Hawkins County Correctional Facility is attempting to reach you," an automated voice says over the line and my eyebrows furrow. "Would you like to accept the call?" 

I pause and look over at Ripley snuggling peacefully on the couch and shake my head, my anger growing. 

"Yes," I bark into the phone, turning my back away from the couch and moving further into the kitchen so as not to disturb her. My jaw is tight and my heart is hammering in my chest as I hear a throat clear on the other line and Patrick's voice rings through the receiver. 

"Ripley?" he asks, his voice small and I want to laugh. 

"Try again, motherfucker," I snarl into the phone and the line goes silent. I can hear his breathing coming more quickly now and I wonder if he is going to hang up.

"Eddie, listen," he pleas and I shake my head, furiously. I pace the kitchen and try my best to control my temper. "I just called to warn Ripley about Jason and to apologize." 

"You want to apologize," I laugh, incredulously. "After everything you said today? You think an apology is all she needs to make everything better? You have no idea what she has been through." 

Patrick is silent again, taking what I said and letting it sink in. 

"I've been going to therapy in here. My therapist thinks that communicating my guilt will help me. I thought it might help Ripley to speak to me too. Can I please just talk to her?" 

"No," I answer sternly. "You will never speak to her again unless she asks to speak to you first. You will never go near her again, do you hear me?" 

I know my voice is raised now and I move closer to the back door, hoping that I'm not being too loud. 

"Fine," he snaps and I can tell I'm pissing him off as well, but I don't give a shit. "But can you at least keep an eye out for Jason? He has been saying some pretty shady shit and has been plotting some stuff. I don't know exactly what, but I thought she should know." 

"Fine, Patrick," I say with a sigh. I refuse to thank him and after a moment I think he realizes I won't because he simply hangs up, the line going dead. I hang up as well, heading back into the living room just as Ripley is sitting up on the couch. She's rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand and looks over at me sleepily. 

"What's wrong?" she asks, seeing my expression and I do my best to smile. 

"Nothing," I assure her. "Just some insistent telemarketer. Wouldn't take no for an answer."