“Do not leave unless the building is burning.”He opens the door and glances up and down the crumbling hallway, then back at me.“Lock the bolt on the inside and let no one in.No one.”
“Please, come back.”
“I swear it.”He lifts his hand, pinky out.
That tiny gesture hits harder than all his shouting, all his anger, all his everything.
I rush forward, hook my pinky with his, and bring our knotted fingers to my lips.He turns our hands, pulls the joined pinkies to his mouth, and kisses them.
Then he walks into the hallway, carrying all my shame, all his fury, and the promise he’ll keep.
I bolt the door behind him, and silence settles over the room.For three seconds.Then…
Bang.
Another.
Bang.Bang.
The sound vibrates through the cracked tiles under my feet.
I move without thinking, sliding back the bolt and cracking open the door.
Jag stands at the end of the hallway, destroying the wall.
He slams his fists into the sheetrock over and over, hammering, pummeling, and shredding.White dust explodes around him.Chunks fall to the floor.
“Jag!”I step out.
His head snaps toward me, his eyes too wild to be human as he roars, “Told you to stay in the room and keep that door locked!”
My stomach drops to my ankles.I’ve seen him angry, but not like this.Not this stripped open and out of control.
I caused this.All of it.
“S-Sorry.”I close the door fast and shove the bolt in place with shaking hands.
The banging stops.
Hours pass.
When a light knock sounds, followed by my name, I unbolt the door.
He steps inside, hands stained in dried blood.
Exactly how I knew they’d be.
He avoids my eyes.
Without a word, I follow him into the bathroom and grab a water bucket.He leans over the sink, shoulders slumped, muscles twitching with all the leftover electricity trapped inside him.
I pull off his jacket and pour the clean water over his hands.
The blood runs in thin rivers along his forearms, swirling down the rusty drain.I wash him with a cloth, wiping the raw skin, tracing the ridges of his knuckles.I’ve washed his bloody hands before, always from bad people, never from walls.
When his skin is clean, he removes a crinkled plastic bag from his jacket.Sanitary napkins and a new pair of underwear.
He opens the box and reads the instructions like he’s defusing a bomb.His brow furrows.Then he nods to himself.
