“It’s about Carter,” she says. “He’s… he’s been drinking again.”
I stop walking as a cold, chilly rock settles in my stomach. “You’re seeing him again?”
“No. I mean… no.”
“Natasha.”
She sighs. “He came over the other night, okay? We got to talking and one thing led to another?—”
“Jesus.” Carter. When she started dating the new guy a few weeks back, I was hoping that was a sign that I’d never hear that name again. That piece of shit put her in the hospital last year. Lost his shit on her while he was drunk and beat her so badly the doctors were talking about doing reconstructive surgery on her face. I told her that if I ever saw him again, I’d have him buried under the jail.
“He said he was sober,” she says. “Like, for real. He said that… that whole thing last year messed him up so bad that he went into rehab right then and there?—”
“Messedhimup? Are you fucking serious?”
“Please, Em. Don’t judge me for believing him. I always said that things would be perfect if he just stopped drinking. And he swore that he did. He showed me his six-month chip.”
Six months. Guess sobriety wasn’t all that immediate for him. I take a deep breath before I go on with the burning question hanging between us. “Has he put his hands on you?”
“No. At least not yet. We were talking on the phone last night and he told me that he wanted me to stop dancing. When I told him no, he flipped out on me. Said he’d kill me before any other man laid a hand on me.”
Yeah, that’s a sure sign that Carter’s fallen off the wagon, assuming he was ever really on it. “He threatened you,” I say.
“Yeah. I’m really scared, Em.”
Now I understand what she’s asking me. “You know I can’t do what you’re asking of me, Tash.”
“Why not? You saw what he did to me before. You were there through all of it while I was recovering. You know what he’s capable of.”
“I do, but you’re talking about…” I lower my voice, glancing around myself for any pricked up ears. “You are talking about something that could put us all in jail for a long time.”
“They couldn’t put him in jail,” she says, a little bitterness in her tone. “He was arrested, went to trial and everything. And now he’s walking around free like it never happened.”
“He got probation?—”
“Oh, fuck his probation. He doesn’t care about that. Em, I really think that if he has the opportunity, he is going to hurt me again. You have to help me.”
“Okay, okay.” I can’t stand the sound of desperation in her voice. The cracks that almost fall into sobs are heartbreaking. “I’ll talk to him. But I’m just going to tell him the situation. What he does about it, if anything, that’s going to be on him.”
She sniffles. “Good enough. Thank you, Em.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Listen, if you need to take some time off to deal with this?—”
“I’d rather not,” she says. “I’m probably way safer at the job than here alone at my apartment.”
She has a point there. “Okay. I’ll do what I can to make sure he doesn’t come around the club. Talk to Junie and all that. He’s kind of sweet on you, so he’ll probably jump at the chance to help out.”
“Wait, what? Junie’s sweet on me?”
I laugh in spite of the cold terror sitting in my stomach. “Yes! How do you not see that? He’s always watching you when you’re on stage.”
She pauses and for a second all I can hear are her sniffles. “I just thought that he did that with all the girls.”
“Nope. Only you.” I like the idea of her and Junie together. Natasha needs a good guy in her life. “I promise I’ll do whatever I can to help. Okay?”
“Thank you,” she says.
We hang up and I stand there for a second, feeling like I’m twisting in the wind. The world suddenly feels that much more dangerous and I’m standing here without any kind of shield over me.
