Elizabeth turned back to him, pointed to another mark in the middle of his chest, “And that is a cigarette burn- what the hell?” she was shrieking. “I know Janie didn’t give you that.”
His eyes found mine and I saw fear, “Listen- listen for a minute- you both need to leave- you shouldn’t even be here, where the hell are your guards-” Quinn seemed to be trying to collect his wits and his voice was laced with firm yet panicked urgency.
The door behind him swung all the way open and, in that moment, my brain and heart stopped.
Jem was behind him, dressed only in her underwear, smoking a cigarette, a hard smile curving her lips.
“Hey big sister.”
Quinn glanced over his shoulder distractedly then almost jumped into the hall, “What the hell?”
My mouth opened and I heard something break, a small snapping noise, in the back of my mind followed by an intense rush of physical pain starting behind my eyes and in my chest. I couldn’t breathe. Quinn and Elizabeth and Jem were all talking but I heard nothing.
I heard nothing.
~*~
In retrospect, dwelling upon the next several minutes in hindsight, all I remembered was blurriness. Somehow Elizabeth pulled me out of the hallway and out of the building. She shoved me in a taxi. At some point I recognized that my face was wet and I thought that I must be crying. We made it to the apartment and I followed behind her, she held my hand. Once inside she steered me to the couch and left me there for a moment, coming back almost immediately with the last of our tequila.
Setting it on the table, Elizabeth shook my shoulders and I just distinguished her voice from very far away, “Janie- Janie! Listen to me-”
I turned to her, meeting her eyes. They were large and I registered concern. She pulled me into a full body hug, held me tightly. I heard her mutter, “… that sonofabitch, I will kill him… everyone is going to want to… we’ll all take turns giving him cigarette burns… they’re coming over…”
I blinked, pulling away, “Who is coming over?”
She pushed my hair away from my face in a way that, heartbreakingly, reminded me of Quinn, “While you were sitting catatonic in the cab I texted all the ladies. We’re having an emergency meeting tonight.”
I shook my head and was surprised when a sob vacated my chest, “No- no, I don’t want to see anyone-”
“Yes, they are coming over. Yes, you will see people tonight, people who love you and want to support you. You can wallow over the weekend. Tonight you’re going to get drunk and eat too much ice-cream.”
I only half heard her. Half comprehended the words. I was crying again and everything went blurry. She pushed the bottle of tequila into my hand and encouraged me to drink.
It burned in my mouth and down my esophagus, and I held the discomfort close to me. It was a relief to feel pain from some source other than my heart. Elizabeth pulled the bottle from my hand and took a long, answering swig, before slamming it on the table with a loud thunk.
“I am so sorry, Janie.” She put an arm around my shoulders and brought my head to her chest, “I am so sorry.”
The door buzzed and Elizabeth stood to check the receiver. I heard Marie’s voice over the speaker. I mechanically reached for the tequila bottle, feeling a little disappointed when it burned with less intensity on my second swallow.
Nevertheless, as I took my third pull from the bottle, I welcomed the numbness.
Moments later Marie’s arms surrounded me and buried my head on her shoulder, her shampoo-commercial-ready hair smelled like lemon and lavender. Next Kat’s arms encircled me from behind. I heard Sandra’s voice some time later and she took Marie’s place on the couch.
“Come to mama, baby girl.” Sandra kissed my forehead and held me in a tight embrace; lest I forget her profession as a psychiatrist, she soothed me with a coaxing voice, “Now, you don’t need to talk about it until you’re ready. We are here to support you and love you.” She took a deep breath and then, lest I forget she was Sandra the Texan, she continued, “And when you’re ready to cut his balls off I will provide the knife.”
Dimly, I was aware that someone was laughing; I lifted my head and, with a little surprise, found that I was, in fact, laughing. I met Sandra’s green eyes, they were sparkling but were rimmed with concern, and I managed a soggy smile.
I glanced around the room; Elizabeth was hovering by the door, her hands were clasped together against her cheek; Marie was sitting in a chair by the couch giving me a sympathetic smile; Kat was behind me rubbing small circles on my back; Sandra was holding my shoulders. Their wide stares all mirrored my vulnerability back at me and to each other, as though they wanted to, expected to shoulder and share in my burden.