“Are you still with me, Andrew?”
“Yeah.”
“It sounded like you threw up. Did you?”
“Yeah.”
“Andrew, I think I need to call you an ambulance. I can’t get through this traffic and get to you in time.”
“No.”
“Why? Andrew, I’m practically forty-five minutes away. I’m trying, man, but you do not sound good. Let me call.”
“No. Josh, they’ll call the police. They’ll arrest her.”
I gripped the steering wheel as tightly as I could to remain calm. He fucking went back to this abusive psycho bitch. I hated her so much. I wanted to yell at him, but that would risk him hanging up on me, and I couldn’t have that happen.
“Did she hit you in the head with something?” I asked through gritted teeth, remembering all the times Dad slapped my mom and Jolie in the head.
“Yeah. She threw some of those heavy beer steins at me. One clocked me on the cheekbone near my eye.”
Fucking hell.
I kept Andrew on the phone with me and continued to pull out pieces of his terrible night. That fucking bitch was mad that he’d gone to James’ for Brandon’s collaring. She made him think she'd missed him and wanted to play and then tore into him. As I drove, I thought about all the times my mom covered for my dad. She had to keep my sister home from school sometimes because if the school ever caught wind of the abuse, they’d call the authorities. I was less than ten minutes from Andrew now, and he was still talking here and there with me.
“I’m almost there, Andrew.”
“Okay. I’m not going anywhere. I’m parked at the end of the aisle closest to the grocery store. There aren’t any other cars around me.”
“Okay, I will find you.”
“Josh, I’m kind of a mess,” he warned.
“Yeah, I heard you barf on yourself.” I laughed a little, hoping he’d laugh. I shook my head at myself; that was stupid of me. I pulled onto the exit ramp and came to a stop at the stoplight. “It’s okay, Andrew.”
“I look like an escaped convict.”
“I doubt that, man.”
“Please try not to freak out, Josh.”
There was something about the way he said it that scared me.What hadn’t he told me?
“I won’t. I’m pulling into the parking lot, and I see your car. I’m hanging up.”
I hit the phone button on the steering wheel to disconnect the call, parked my SUV next to his driver-side door, left my vehicle running, and jumped out. His driver-side door was ajar, and when I pulled it open, I couldn’t believe my eyes.
Sitting on his naked lap between his body and the steering wheel was a circular piece of latticed metal. One of his bloody wrists was cuffed to the open lattice pattern. Attached to the metal were three thin legs to what I presumed had been an end table.
Blood was smeared in long streaks down his arm, chest, and abdomen.
How?
What?
What had caused all of the blood?
This wasn’t from someone who took a flogger and played too hard. This wasn’t even from being punched or having had someone’s fist pound on them. Andrew turned his head in my direction but kept his eyes down. He wouldn’t look at me. He tried to raise his hand to point at his face but gave up and let his hands fall on the metal and wooden legs. I looked at the side of his face and saw the huge knot that had already formed on his cheek. His eye was swollen shut like a boxer’s. His eye looked like my mom’s and Jolie’s had many times.
