Maybe it’s the creepy letters. Maybe it’s old memories coming back to haunt me. I take a deep breath and shake the worst night of my life out of my thoughts. Getting out of my car is always a struggle. I really need a new ride. It’s such a pain—literally—getting in and out of my tiny sedan. I make decent money with the PEW now. I can afford a newer car, one that I fit in better. I’d like something taller and sportier, like a Bronco.
Yeah. I just need to get my mind off all the craziness that’s been happening the last few weeks. Maybe I should call Jacky and offer to smooth things over with Zoey. I’ll reach out to him, try and make things better. I miss my brother.
“Margeaux?”
“AHHHHH!!!!” I scream and throw the hardest punch of my life, making contact with this mystery person’s face.
My vision goes black. No sounds register in my ears. I’m transported back to that night six years ago. I should have fought back that night– I couldn’t. I was pathetic, stupid, gullible.Not now. Not tonight.
I throw punch after punch. I hit the side of his head. His ribs. His gut.
“Margeaux, stop! Please! It’s me!” Hands reach for my wrists, but I shirk away. Refusing to relent.
My hair is stuck to my face, and my hands are throbbing from my wild punches.
“Fuck you!” I shout. “Fuck off!”
“Margeaux! Beautiful! It’s me! Stop!”
I freeze, my fists clenched and ready to strike again. The figure beneath me becomes clearer. His wavy brown hair is in complete disarray. His face is red and puffy from my fists. My chest rises and falls with every deep breath I strain to take in. His perfect, full lips are split and bleeding. His dark eyes are holding my gaze with complete tenderness and concern.
It’s me, Margeaux. Jon.”
“J-Jon?”
“Yea, beautiful. It’s me. I’m here.” He keeps his hands to his sides, but I notice his fingers twitching, wanting to touch me.
“How? Why?”
I can’t stop shaking, feeling utterly confused and on alert, too much adrenaline. He raises his hands toward my face slowly, like he’s approaching a deer in the middle of the road.
“Take another breath for me, Beautiful,” he says calmly, despite his bruised face. “In through your nose. Hold it for a couple of seconds. Let it out through your nose.”
I follow his instructions. He rubs my thighs with each breath, encouraging me. I feel the adrenaline trickling out of my system. I recognize the outside of my apartment. I’m straddling Jon and suddenly feel like a Great Dane crushing a Beagle. I push off him and sit beside him on the grass.
“What the fuck are you doing here? Are you okay?” I ask looking over his face.
He touches his fingers to his lips and winces. “I’ll be fine. I needed to see you.”
I look up and see lights being turned on from other apartments in my building. Silhouettes of other residents moving around has me feeling like Jon and I are about to have an audience. I’d rather maintain some semblance of privacy right now.
“Come upstairs.” I press up on my still shaking legs and dreadclimbing the five flights of stairs I need to climb to get to my apartment.
Jon follows me the entire way without saying a word. What is he doing here? What does this mean that he’s here? Did he really break up with his pint-size Barbie girlfriend? I should probably ask him all these questions, but talking is the last thing I want to do right now. My body is in no mood for serious conversations.
We get inside my apartment, I lock the door, make sure all my windows are closed, and the blinds are down.
“Margeaux, we need to talk,” Jon says as I pace around my apartment, still antsy. I stop my pacing in front of him. He’s standing in my open kitchen and living area.
“I don’t wanna talk, Doc,” I tell him, lightly grazing his jaw with my lips, and hating myself for hurting him.
“What do you need?” he asks, and I adore how caring this man is. It comes so naturally for him. I don’t understand why he’s here, and frankly, I don’t fucking care.He’s here.
I grab his hand and lead him through my apartment. “I need a shower,” I say decidedly. I feel his steps slowing down as if he’s planning on giving me space to do what I need to do. I tug him and spin around to face him. “Let me be clearer, Doc.Weneed a shower.”
His big, brown eyes look up at mine with shock, then soften with realization, and finally a small smile tugs at the corner of his swollen lips.
“Lead the way, Beautiful.”
