Itisgreat. I have been slammed. Even here, my client list is growing, andthe money that I can't use on anything is rolling into my account. If I ever make it back home, I'll be far richer than before.
Who am I kidding? I'm not going home after this. Where is there to go? An empty apartment, an empty city, one I'll have to flee again if the other email is any indication.
"Hello?" Bel's voice brings me back to the present.
I blink away the errant anxiety growing at the thought of what might come after all of this. "Yes, itisgreat," I assure her. "Sorry, I just got a text about a possible new client out of Awhatukee."
"Where is that?" she asks.
"It's basically Phoenix," I answer, trying to recall the only thing I know about the strangely named town. I'm not lying to her. Ididget a message earlier from a business there, and Ididlook it up just to get an idea of who I'd be working with.
A beat of silence passes before she pries, "Are you okay, I?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"Well, you're not posting on anything like you normally do. You're ignoring half of my calls and apparently all of Mike's. Even Fritz dodged the question when I asked him if he'd heard from you. Are you," she clears her throat, "Are you mad at me or something?"
Sweet Bel. Of course, I'm not mad at her. But what can I say?No, babes, I'm not mad. I'm on lockdown in an underground dungeon on an uninhabitable island in Alaska with the biggest pain in the ass on earth. I'm spiraling and only barely holding on because if I fall apart, then the Sanctatitties and my parents and my stupid fucking family win. I'm drinking more than I ever have in my entire life, barely making it until the end of the workday most of the time. I'm thinking about just offing myself so that nobody can get to me, that sick version of victory seeming more appealing by the day.
"No, I'm not mad at you." I sigh. "I'm just... things aren't easy for me right now, Bel." Still not a lie.
"Is it because of the baby news?"That's certainly part of it."If it's too much for you, we don't have to talk about it, ya know? I'm sure they would understand if you can't make it. Do you need to come to Vegas and party again? Or we can always-"
"Bel," I stop her rambling before her endless love and empathy can make me sick with the knowledge that I don't deserve it. "It's none of that. I'm just really busy with work, I'm not feeling well, my parents emailed me, I-"
"They did?" Outrage fills her tone. "Again?"
Fuck.I really hadn't meant to tell her that. "Yeah, I haven't opened that one yet either but I'm guessing it says much of the same.Come home and repent. We still love and pray for you. There's still time. We've found a nice boy from your grandfathers church."
She makes a disgusted noise that I'm inclined to agree with. "At least now you know why they're so... like they are," she comments. "Brainwashing like that goes deep."
How I wish that was a comfort to me. I know it's not entirely their fault. It's all that my parents know. But is some strange church really more important to them than their living, breathing daughter? The answer, I know, is yes. And while Belhas her own issues with her parents, there's no way she could understand these ones.
The only person who might understand the extremities of my parents' beliefs is currently in the living area watching hockey and screaming at someone to "check that bitch". A chuckle escapes me, and Bel catches it before I can stop it.
"What's so funny over there?" her sly tone sneaks through, happy to change the subject for me.
"Just some idiot screaming about hockey," I smile again. "Hey I'll call you back later."
A beat before she covers her obvious disappointment with too much cheer, "Oh! Okay! Yeah, we'll talk later."
"Love you, Bels."
"You too." Just before I can hang up she adds, "Hey, if you needed anything, you would tell me, right? You know I'd do anything for you. Cas and Fritz would, too."
And I do know. Which is why I can't tell her anything. Because even the three of them would be no match for Eamon and his reach. Or his cruelty.
"Of course, Bel. Love you."
I make the line go dead, the silence drowning out whatever my best friend might have said next.
I drag myself out to the kitchen in search of the only thing that might make the next few hours before I can pour myself into bed bearable.
"How's Belissenda?" Eamon's voice meets me in the common area before I reach my destination. Of course, this asshole was listening.
"She's fine," I answer, not at all in the mood to verbally spar with him tonight.
He turns over the back of the couch to look at me, "She suspicious?"
