39. A Jagged Landscape
39
A Jagged Landscape
Matt
By the time we make it back to the city, Antoinette’s sobs have quieted to whimpers, the equivalent of a wounded animal.
Jessica crawled into my lap, curling into me like a child, and I did my best to console her while also keeping my own emotions in line.
But all it took was a glance from Tony for me to recognize the futility of it all.
On the other side of that, I keep reminding myself of our old motto about no one being dead until you yourself have removed their head and set their body on fire.
Of course, in this situation, I hate to give myself any hope at all.
Upon arrival at the warehouse, we stagger from the van, slowly making our way inside.
We’re all slow to enter, none of us wanting to leave Antoinette behind, and all of us completely unsure what to do.
It isn’t until we’re in our main communication room that she finally stops, turns to us, and says, “You all should get some rest. We’ll make some plans first thing in the morning.”
Tony and I look at each other and then back at Antoinette, and then Tony shakes his head, stepping forward as he says, “We’re not going to leave you.”
She laughs bitterly and raises her brows at him as she replies, “And staying with me is going to accomplish what?”
Tony shrugs, his eyes moving to mine as he motions to her, obviously looking for my assistance. So, I step forward, resting my hand on her arm as I say, “The same thing we’ve always done for each other, just be there.”
Her features soften, and she smiles slightly, and then steps in closer to me, motioning for Tony to come near. Then she leans in, her eyes moving from mine to Tony’s and back again as she says, “The best thing you can do right now is to take care of your wives.” She pauses, taking in a shaky breath and turning to Tony, adding, “Especially you. It’s not her fault. We know Darius, and he never would have allowed her to risk her own life to save him. If he had thought there’d be even a tiny chance she would have succeeded, he would be standing here with us. She needs to hear that.”
Tony nods, and she turns to me. I nod in acknowledgement, and then we both step back and move to walk away. Then, I turn back and ask, “What are you going to do?”
She looks across the room where Lilith is speaking with Agatha, and then she turns back to me. Her smile is a little brighter as she says, “I’m going to find him.”
I frown, and Tony stops, a matching frown on his face as he asks, “What are you talking about?”
She looks over at him and then shrugs as she replies, “You of all people aren’t allowed to lecture me on reality—not yet.”
He looks at me and shrugs, too, so I sigh. “Reality’s got fuck all on us. Come get us if you need us.”
Antoinette takes off toward her mother and her sister, and Tony and I head off in the direction of our private rooms. Tony speaks softly to Carolina, who shakes her head in response, but he ignores whatever she’s saying, stooping down and hefting her over his shoulder and taking off through the doorway, the slap of her palms on his back reverberating through the room.
I stop beside Jessica and ask, “Are you going to come willingly?”
She glances back at the other woman, then turns to me and says, “Yes. The last thing they need is to feel like they’re babysitting me.”
I take her hand, leading her out of the room and down the hallway through the maze of corridors until we reach the door to my room. I turn to her with a sheepish look as I say, “Obviously, the last time I was here, I was not expecting to bring company back with me.”
She frowns and then asks, “Are you saying it’s likely a pigsty?”
I laugh and shake my head. “No, they would have made sure it was cleaned regularly on the off-chance I was going to be back without notice.”
She raises her brows at me questioningly. “Then why the explanation?”
“Tony likes to leave me gag gifts. I’m preemptively assuming he has done so liberally while I’ve been gone.”
She giggles, looking intently over my shoulder as I turn and open the door. I flip the light on, bracing myself for some crazy scene, and then laugh as I enter the room.
Jessica enters right on my heels and then laughs as she sees the gift that Tony left for me on the bed—an intricate and life-sized blow-up doll.
She walks toward it, leaning over the bed and squinting as she says, “This thing must have cost a fortune.”
I sigh heavily, closing the door and leaning against it as I reply, “Tony would spare no expense.”
We both laugh, and the short reprieve makes me feel a tiny bit lighter.
I motion to the doorway on the other side of the room and say, “There’s a bathroom over there if you want to freshen up a bit. I’ll take care of our friend here in the meantime.”
Still laughing, she walks in the direction I indicated, glancing over her shoulder as she jokes, “Do I dare leave you two alone?”
I laugh again, shaking my head as she disappears. The smile drops from my face, and I frown down at the lifelike doll in front of me. Sighing, I heft it over my shoulder, turning and walking to the doors across from the bathroom. I swing one open, careful to make sure the other remains shut, as I lean in and toss the doll on the pile of other objects that Tony has been leaving me over the years.
“What else is in there?” Jessica’s voice behind me startles me.
I whirl around, shutting the door and leaning back against it as I say, “Nothing.”
She squints at me with a knowing expression as she says, “Liar, liar.”
I laugh nervously, shaking my head as I step into her, my hands going to her wrists when she attempts to go around me. I pull her in close, wrapping my arms around her, pinning her arms to her sides, and pressing my face into her neck. “Plenty of time for all that nonsense later.”
She pulls back just enough to look me in the face as she says, “You mean plenty of time for you to get rid of the evidence.”
I walk her backward until the backs of her legs hit the bed. She topples over, and I follow her, my body pinning her to the mattress. “Would I do that?”
She nods enthusiastically and says, “You absolutely would.”
I raise my hand as I reply, “Scout’s honor.”
She giggles and then sputters, “As if you were actually a fucking boy scout.”
I laugh and shake my head, but I say nothing as I allow myself to sink into her while focusing on not crushing her.
We fall silent, and her hands are on my back, rubbing soothingly. Then her face is in my neck, her breath warm against my ear as she says, “I’m sorry.”
Pain jackknifes through me, and I clear my throat as I whisper, “Let’s not talk about that.”
She wraps her arms around me more tightly but says nothing. She just nods, her only response an incoherent cooing.
I sigh deeply, willing the agony in my chest to ease, and then she’s pushing against my chest. I sit back and ask, “What is it?”
She slaps at me until I move back more, and she sits up, pushing me backward so I’m standing, and she says, “You’re disgusting.”
I look down at myself, frowning at the fact I didn’t immediately head for the showers. I look down at her and frown again, shaking my head as I reach for her, yanking her to her feet.
I attempt to lead the way toward the bathroom, but she steps in front of me, grabbing my hand in hers and leading the way.
She stops abruptly in the middle of the room, and I practically run into the back of her, barely managing to stop up short. She whirls on me, her hands making quick work of my shirt, and soon, it’s lying on the floor in a heap. She kneels, and I’m looking at the top of her head as I ask, “What are you doing, sugar?”
“Taking care of you.”
I smile, the agony in my chest mixing with sheer emotion. I attempt to speak but choke instead. I clear my throat, looking up at the ceiling, praying she’ll see what I’m working so hard to deny.
I’m still not wearing shoes, so I easily step out of my pants and underwear, and then she’s pushing me toward the shower, which somehow is already running.
She pushes me under the spray and then turns, quickly removing her own clothes and leaving them piled on top of mine before turning and entering the shower, closing the door behind her.
I’m still standing there, frozen and numb. She says nothing. She just moves in close to me, the press of the front of her body against mine urging me to step backward until the hot water runs down my back and then along the back of my head.
I continue to stand there, willing my arms and legs to move but deeply paralyzed, every ounce of my energy being expended into pushing down that fierce agony still boiling inside me.
Jessica remains quiet, but her hands are firm as she meticulously cleans me up, first washing my hair and rinsing it clean. She then grabs the washcloth, soaping it up and scrubbing every inch of my body until finally, she’s satisfied.
She cleans herself much faster, and before I know it, she’s wringing the washcloth out and hanging it on the rack. She turns back to me, pulling me into her, one of her arms going around my back and the other hand along the back of my neck. She hugs me to her, urging me to hold on.
A guttural sob falls from my lips, my arms come up and around her of their own volition, and she whispers to me soothingly.
And I stop fighting.
I let that wall inside me crumble, unleashing decades’ worth of pain in one fell swoop.
And Jessica, she stands there and holds me up.