Page 91 of The Devil’s Feather

“Kathy, I’m sorry. I didn’t know who else to call. We went to Molly’s cabin, and they took him, and he’s there all alone, and the cops don’t care, and I—” My voice grew increasingly shrill.

“Whoa, whoa, Elaine, honey, slow down! Who took what where? Start from the beginning.”

I stammered through the story.

The line was quiet for so long I thought Kathy had hung up when she finally said, “I see. I’m not local, but I know some folks who can help. You go home and stay put. If Rafael doesn’t come back tonight, you go to the police station first thing tomorrow morning. I’ll call you when I know something, honey. Don’t you go posting all over the internet yet, you hear me? Not yet. Press cuts both ways.”

1 “Fearless” -- President

2 “Sleep to Dream” – Fiona Apple

25

HALF A LEAGUE ONWARD

Icalled Deandra on the way back to Rafael’s apartment. Our apartment. Our home⁠1. Without him. The sounds of her walking outside to get into her car accompanied a string of ferocious cursing.

“You have the garage code. I’ll leave the door unlocked. Just take the elevator to the top. You can’t miss the front door.”

“I’ll be there as fast as I can,” Dee said. A pregnant pause, then, “Don’t do anything stupid, Elaine. I’m coming. Just wait for me, ok?”

I turned the ringer on for perhaps the first time since I’d bought my phone in my desperation for Kathy’s call. I shouldn’t have left Rafael in there alone. What if they kill him? Was I stupid for telling him to leave the gun behind?

I wanted to vomit. I wanted to scream and rage and burn the whole peninsula down.

Finally, I pulled into the garage and parked shittily across the lines. Even though Rafael had all the spaces for himself, he always parked carefully and correctly.

“Please yell at me when you come home,” I whispered. “Please come home.”

I kicked off my shoes and made straight for the booze. Who else but a giant would keep their liquor in the top cabinet? I dragged over the stepstool Rafael had thoughtfully purchased for me.

I drank whiskey straight from the bottle, staring at the 9mm on the counter. The part of my brain that had seen way too many action movies told me to take the gun and rescue my man. The rational part of my brain reminded me it would end exactly like what I’d warned Rafael about.

My phone stubbornly refused to ring. I almost called Kathy again, but she was probably busy with whatever she needed to do to help. I desperately needed a distraction. Writing was out. No way I’d be able to focus. Music only reminded me of him. TV had no appeal; the shows I’d been watching lately were all too romantic.

I trudged into my office and flipped open my laptop. Work was boring as hell, but at least it had no outside associations. I set the whiskey bottle on the desk and signed in, opening my email account.

The latest one was flagged “Urgent”. I opened it.

“Dear Elaine Parham,

We’re sharing a difficult decision today that impacts you, as well as the entire industry. With the acquisition by Extruda and the advances in generative artificial intelligence…”

I slapped my laptop shut. This was not happening. Not today. Not right now. The timing had to be deliberate. I chugged more whiskey than was wise; not only for my mental state but with my medication.

Fuck it.

I took another long drink, throat burning from the liquor. And another. If I couldn’t see straight enough to read my email, then it didn’t count. I opened the laptop again and skimmed to the bottom.

“Please collect your belongings from the office by close of business on Monday. We wish you luck in your future endeavors.”

I snapped it shut again, my breath coming hard and fast. The old darkness uncurled in my chest. I rubbed my hands over my upper thighs. Over the scars.

An insidious thought slithered into my mind. Rafael had a straight razor.

“No, I can’t do that to him,” I said aloud. “He would be so triggered. That’s not fair. He’s already going through so much.”

But the siren’s call to bloodletting did not relent. I paced into the bedroom. Looked up at the cubby. Into the kitchen. Looked at the stepladder. Back and forth. I broke, dragging the stepladder into the bedroom. Rafael had claimed I wouldn’t be able to reach.