Chapter 8 #2
“Who cares. We’re stuck down here and we need goss,” Blanche says waving a hand at Kaia. “Joy, how are you and Switchy poo getting on? Any smoochin’ yet?”
As soon as the words leave her mouth my face is on fire.
“Oh yes, tell us the deets!” Mira claps, making herself comfy by kicking off her brightly colored sneakers. “I love this whole premise. All alpha growly, friends to lovers after the whole forced proximity thing.” Her eyes go comically wide. “Oh, are you all thinking what I’m thinking?”
“We need more drinks?” Vi asks.
“No! This is about to turn into second chance forced proximity!” Mira squeals.
“Wait, no it’s not second chance, they were never together,” Jazz points out as my gaze ping pongs between the women.
“No, I mean like it’s the second chance at them changing their living situation to forced proximity.” Mira rummages in her bra and pulls out a notepad and pen. “I’m totally inventing a new trope right now,” she mutters to herself, having moved on from the conversation, thankfully.
We all stare at her as she stares off into the distance periodically before taking notes in her little notebook.
With everyone distracted I breathe a sigh of relief at the break in questioning, mainly because I’m not too sure what’s happening with Switch.
There’s just something about him that puts me at ease.
That makes me feel safe. But when I dig deeper into that little place inside my chest, I know that it’s more than that.
When I think about Switch, his large hands, the way his lips quirk up when he watches Kit giggling, it cracks open something inside me.
Something that I didn’t think existed anymore after years of being told I’m not enough, and will never be enough.
With Switch he makes me feel as if it’s OK to just be… me.
“Ah, where is Chewy?” Mama Debs asks, hands on hips and frown on her face.
We all look around the room and I think back to the last time I saw her. She had her laptop and she was at the large, shiny island in the middle of the room.
“Shit. Both Chewy and Remy are missing,” Ana points out.
“Yeah, but I’m here and if shit was going to hit the fan, then I’d be wherever they are,” Blanche says, holding her glass up in the air before taking a long slurp.
“She has a point,” Nat says.
“Well,” Vi says “I say we just relax. We’re down here for a reason -”
“- so the big bad men don’t get us.”
“Exactly,” Vi says, pointing at Mira, before taking a long slurp of her drink.
I hiss and look down at my cuticle to find I’ve picked it til it’s bled.
Sucking it into my mouth I concentrate on the taste of iron to distract me from my feelings.
Everyone is in this position because of me.
Because the man I decided to marry did something so evil and now these people, my friends are paying the price while he rots in hell.
“Come with me,” Mama Debs says gently, taking my elbow and leading me out of the room into an impressive hall.
“This’ll help, Joy. Trust me,” Kaia says, gripping my hand.
I didn’t hear her following behind us, in fact I didn't hear any of the Ol Ladies who are all crowded in the hall behind me.
“You’re feeling helpless, I get that. Maybe this will help you feel a little grounded.” Mama Debs says in her soft accent, as she presses on the wall and I gasp as a hidden door pops out, revealing a wall of weapons displayed beautifully on little shelves.
“Tadaaa!” Mira adds with some jazz hands.
“Welcome to the cache,” Nat adds with a smile, reaching for a small hand gun.
“When the men are doing their thing and we feel powerless, we always come and choose a weapon. I don’t know the science behind it, but it makes you feel more grounded knowing that if you had to, you could protect yourself. ” She shrugs.
Some of the things I recognize, like the knuckle dusters, and a club. Those were the things that Travis liked to use on me when dinner was cold or I didn’t salt his food properly, or he had a bad day at work or he just wanted to make my life hell.
I swallow down the bile in my throat, breathing through my nose to calm my racing heart. He may have tried to break me but I’m still standing while he’s rotting in the belly of a gator somewhere in Louisiana.
“Do you want anything, Joy?” Jazz asks, waving to the wall.
I settle my gaze on all manner of sharp and dangerous weapons, skipping over the ones I know intimately until my eyes land on a small, purple taser. I know that it’s not like the big, spiky bommy knocker thing that Kaia has picked up, but it’s something that I know I’ll be able to use if I have to.
Jazz reaches out and plucks the taser from its little shelf on the wall and hands it to me, her warm fingers brushing mine. “Good choice, Joy,” she whispers, giving my hand a small squeeze before she turns and plucks a gun from the wall. “In case you need me to back you up,” she says with a wink.
I shake out my free hand, before nodding at my friends, all of them holding their weapons at the ready. A smile stretches Blanche’s face as her eyes search my face, liking what she’s seeing there.
“You’re stronger than you think, Joy.”
I hope she’s right.