“Are you always the one to go along with what others want?”
She starts bouncing her leg even harder. “Depends. If their being upset or unhappy makes me want to peel my skin off, then yes.”
I don’t know what to say to that.
“DJ’s probably out of milk by now,” she says after a while. “I’ve only pumped two bottles for him.”
She looks genuinely worried. Marissa Johnson is either a very committed liar, or she really is a breastfeeding mom and not an addict.
“I’m sure someone will go out and buy him some formula.”
“He’s never had formula before. Besides, I don’t even know if Dylan, my… his father, has already gone to get him from my mother-in-law’s.”
I see her mind going a million miles an hour, and she soon works herself up to crying, probably already imagining her emaciated baby in the hospital, hooked up to all sorts of IVs to keep him alive.
“Good God,” I say in an exasperated tone.
She looks at me angrily. “What the fuck is your problem?” She hisses. “You have no idea what I’ve been through tonight!”
I sit up and reflexively strain against the rope. “Did they touch you?”
“No, thank God,” she replies between the sobs. “Will Rebel swoop in and play mommy after I’m dead?” She asks and sobs even harder.
I don’t know what the fuck’s going on. Maybe that withdrawal’s kicking in.
We’re both quiet for a long time. After a while, Marissa’s sobs die down. She’s probably fallen asleep.
*
It’s nice to have someone here with me. Since Marissa’s arrival, I haven’t been torturing myself with shame and feelings of inadequacy for allowing myself to be captured by these idiots.
No, I can almost hear my therapist. A child cried that their Mommy wasn’t waking up, and you ran to help.
No regrets. I’d do it again. I wonder what happened to the boy.
I glance up at the sky light and see that night is slowly giving way to dawn. I feel her eyes on me.
Marissa.
“Where did they take you from?” I ask without preamble.
“The Gray Wolves MC compound.”
I’m pleasantly surprised that she has ties to the lifestyle, but the feeling sours quickly, ‘cause I realize that she’s either a club girl or someone’s ol’ lady.
“In Tucson?”
She nods.
“Did they knock you out?”
“No. They just put a shirt or something over my face.”
“How long was the drive here?”
“Not long. Around twenty minutes, I’d say.”
“So, we’re still in Tucson,” I muse. “You with the club?”
