Page 27

Lucy

I t’s been almost a week since Billy left, and I haven’t moved from my bed much, wrapped in sheets that smell faintly like him.

The ache inside my chest must be my heart dying, because there isn’t any other way to describe what it could be. The energy to feel anything is gone.

I want to be furious at his decision, like he made a choice for us without considering our partnership. I’ve drowned in my own tears for days, and there is nothing left inside of me to pour out.

When the end of the relationship with Miles happened, I was already a foot out the door. He was an awful human, and my parents dying, well, that was a blessing in disguise.

There is no hope in these dark storm clouds gripping me to be considered a silver lining.

How the fuck can your soul physically hurt when it’s a breakup? It’s as if my body is ignoring the news and shattering my heart into pieces as my chest squeezes around the rejected organ.

Loud bangs on the front door reverberate through the house. I never noticed how much sound echoes through the space until I was the only one here.

The person is persistent, and I grumble while peeling myself out of bed. Grabbing a blanket, I drape it over my shoulders and pad down the stairs.

Dizziness catches me off guard, and I trail my hand along the wall as I go. The railing we never got around to putting up reminds me of the plans. All the rooms now hold memories which shatter my heart.

The ache of missing someone shouldn’t feel so overwhelming, and yet his absence permeates every corner like a ghostly presence.

I open the door. JoJo stands on the other side wearing yoga pants and an oversized sweater. She holds several reusable bags in her hands. I nudge the screen and she gives me a small smile.

Passing by me, she walks to the kitchen and puts her sacks on the counter. I lean against the wall and watch her put things away, laying out different treats and ingredients as if food will patch my heart back together.

“Have you had anything to drink today? ”

I shake my head no, my throat drier than the desert. She pulls out two glasses and fills them with ice before putting water in them.

She jerks her head toward the hallway, and I follow her like a lost puppy.

“Let’s go soak in the sunshine. The porch has the perfect amount,” she whispers.

JoJo moves cautiously, like I’m an abused animal about to flee at any moment. She knows me so well, but yet not at all.

The only person to understand me was him, and the realization sets over me in waves. My nose burns as the tears well in my eyes. This isn’t how it was ever supposed to be.

“How did you know?” I croak out before sitting down on the cushion and wrapping the blanket around me.

Taking the water from her, I have a few sips before downing it entirely and setting it on the little table.

“He called me on the day he left. It was cryptic at best, but after I didn’t hear from you, I realized what it was.”

“What’d he say?” I use the edge of the fabric to wipe the tears from my face.

""JoJo, I fucked up. Be there for her, please.""

She hands me her glass of water and I down it, realizing how badly I’ve been neglecting myself .

“I wanted to kill him, you know I would. So tell me how to find him.”

“No one can find Billy unless he wants to be found. I shouldn’t have gotten so invested and fallen so damn hard. I don’t know what’s going on with everything.”

“Well, I’m here now, Lucy. I’ll take care of you.”

I lean against her and close my eyes. No one can help me right now, but I will enjoy every minute of the love that is offered.

“I should check my phone. I’ve only used it to take time off work. Artie said he understands, but I’m sure they’re not thrilled with me.”

“Probably not, but they don’t know what you’re dealing with, and after you’ve given them so fucking much of yourself, they should care about you more. Now I’ll go make you dinner later, but please fucking feed yourself.”

She hands me my phone and a tray with cheese, crackers, and fruit on it.

I pick up a few grapes and munch on them. “It’s not as if I’ll fade away,” I joke, waving my hand down my body.

“Because you’re plus-size? Baby, stop, you have curves and a shape people would die for.”

She grabs a cracker and shoves it into her mouth.

JoJo is one of those friends that, even when we don’t talk for weeks at a time, will show up and give the shirt off her back and make sure you damn well know how important you are.

Scrolling through my phone, I see the missed calls from Artie, and my finger lingers over Billy’s contact info.

Pressing the call button, I wait to hear his voicemail, needing his voice in my ear, but am greeted with an automated message telling me this number is no longer in service.

The sob that leaves my throat is unintentional. I thought I had more time with the trivial things. His scent and voice are fading quicker than the pain radiating through my chest.

“Lucy?” JoJo picks up the phone—I must have dropped it—and hugs me tightly.

“His number’s gone. I’ve been able to hear the voicemail every day for a week, and now it is over. It’s over.” I choke on my words, wishing they’d steal my breath and bring me six feet under.

I’ve never thought about ending it all. Throughout a lifetime of abuse, I held onto the belief that I would eventually overcome it and create a better life, but now all hope feels lost.

“You’re going to make it, whatever we have to do,” JoJo says.

I take my phone from her and lean back against the swing. Exhaling the shaky breath, I need to call Artie and check where the investigation is at .

Scrolling through social media as I ground myself, I see posts about Billy’s shop, how human remains were found, and that he might have been a serial killer.

Dialling Artie’s number, I bite my lip, the pain creating an outlet from my drowning heart.

“Lucy, good to hear from you. How’re you doing?”

“I’m alright, Artie, how are you?”

“It’s been busy and rough, but you know how it is. We’ve missed you at the station. Have you heard from the detective?”

JoJo kisses the top of my head and walks around the side of the house.

“No, I haven’t been on my phone much.”

They think I’ve had the stomach flu, and if it means I have to lie about shitting my pants rather than tell them about my connection to Billy, that’s what I’ll do.

“Gotcha. Well, there may be news. Leah is out of the drug-induced coma, but her story has a lot of holes in it. They’ve been trying to get more out of her, but again, she’s recovering.”

JoJo appears with another glass of water. I offer her a small smile before taking it.

“What’s her story?” I ask.

“Leah doesn’t remember everything. She said she was held in a dark place and escaped. Others died while she was there. When she woke up and tried the door, it opened, and she started a fire to stop the bleeding where her foot had been carved off. That’s how she ended up with the flyer.”

“That’s a hell of a story,” I say.

“Yeah. There’re inconsistencies and they’re looking into it, but she’ll have a long road to recovery. Lucy, I know you’ve had your differences with her, but I believe she could do with a friend. There have been many visitors, but I think it’d mean a lot to her if you showed up.”

I grit my teeth together. The last fucking person I want to see is Leah.

“Right, well, maybe I’ll get up there tonight or tomorrow. I’ve been feeling better and will return to work as soon as I can.”

My tone changes into the perfect customer-service voice, and as JoJo comes out with two plates of sandwiches, she raises her eyebrows.

“That’s my girl. I know things can be hard, but you always come through for those who’re most important, and our team is priceless.”

“Thanks, Artie. I’ll see you next shift.” I hang up and know I only have a day before my scheduled time to work.

As I grab the plate JoJo hands me, she side-eyes me, waiting to hear what the news is.

“Leah claims she was abducted and held somewhere dark, but that she escaped and grabbed a flyer. Artie says she needs me to be her friend right now. ”

I take a bite of the toasted tomato sandwich. The perfect amount of mayo to tomatoes is my favourite, creamy and tart flavours bouncing across my tongue.

“Bullshit. You don’t have to pretend to be that cunt’s friend. She’s done absolutely nothing but force your life into a living hell.”

“I know, but morale or some shit. They want me to be a team player.” I continue chewing and glance at JoJo.

“ Do you, though? I mean, sure, show up and make it look nice if you must, but then get the fuck out of there. You should move, change jurisdictions.”

I peel the crust away from the other part of the sandwich and roll ideas around in my head.

She’s right. I don’t feel bad and I never will. Leah has tried to take everything from me ever since I met her. After completing this, I can go back to my normal life, or at least the existence without Billy.

After a shower and washing my hair, I almost feel human .

Emotions run through each step of the way, tears falling more often than I’d like, but since the scent of Billy is gone from my bed and I haven’t heard from him at all, numbness has begun to coat my insides.

I dress in jeggings and an oversized purple shirt. I despise the obligations awaiting me today. Visiting Leah is the last thing I want to do. She has stolen more than joy. She has snatched away my hope and optimism.

The audacity she has to ruin my life is beyond belief. Any nerves I had are long gone. Sheer spite fills my belly and I won’t let this bitch steal anything more from me.

Forgetting my auxiliary cord is the second worst thing about the trip until the shitty music on the radio is interrupted by a news report:

“This is an announcement for a nationwide recall. The brand Lou’s Organic Soap has been recalled from all places that sell it. If you have or currently own any, please contact the toll-free number to get a refund. The soap is not safe for human use.”

I smirk. It’s fine to be used, but they think they’re going to find more evidence to put Billy away for life.

When I enter her hospital room, Leah opens her eyes briefly, but they roll back in her head. As I take a seat beside her bed, I look her over. Bruises have turned an unsightly yellow colour in spots .

Some areas are green, and the swelling in her face has gone down. It fills me with happiness that she’s as ugly on the outside as her insides must be.

“Lucy… you’re in danger.” Her words are clipped, as if it’s still a struggle to talk.

“No, you’re the only threat I’ve ever had in my life,” I hiss.

“Lucy… Bill…” she starts.

I grip her thigh tightly over the blankets. “No, he’s a good man. You’ve fucked everything up, as per usual.”

I glance out through the door. The normal hustle is happening, but I doubt anyone is watching her room.

I pull out the syringe and add the solution to her IV. It should be pretty painless and quick, which is less than she deserves, but I do not want to go to prison.

Settling next to her bedside, I lower my voice to almost a whisper: “I hope you rot in hell, you fucking cunt.”

Once I’m outside, the drops of rain hit my skin, the coolness of the air giving me a slight chill, but giddiness runs through me and festers a warmth that carries me all the way to the car.

The chances of getting Billy back may be slim, but at least I won’t have to endure Leah’s malicious words tarnishing his reputation or mine.