Chapter Sixteen
Sophie adjusted the safety glasses on her head, the clear plastic doing nothing to obscure the room they were all in. The gloves felt loose, so she tightened the straps on her wrists. The baseball bat felt solid in her hands when she picked it up. All in all, she felt better, stronger, more steady than she had in ages, like at any moment roots might shoot out of her feet, snarling into the earth below her.
It was possible that the cold medication was making her a little loopy.
Marisa stood next to her, a crowbar in her hands. She looked determined and not a little bit scary. Tom didn’t seem to think anything of the fierce expression on his fiancée’s face as he leaned down to press his lips to her temple. That earned him a brief flash of a smile.
Mike stood on Sophie’s other side, spinning a cricket bat experimentally in his hands as if testing its weight. ‘Do they even have cricket over here?’
‘Not that I’ve seen,’ Tom said. ‘But I also haven’t been looking.’
Mike hummed thoughtfully as he examined his bat, then turned his attention to Sophie. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Powerful,’ Sophie said. ‘And a bit sweaty in this get-up.’
‘But you’re feeling well?’ Mike asked. ‘You’re not pushing it?’
Sophie shook her head. She’d managed a quick nap and another bowl of soup before leaving her flat. She didn’t feel totally well, but she was on the mend and well enough for this.
‘It looks like we’re about to go collect forensic evidence or clean crime scenes,’ Marisa said. ‘Or maybe create crime scenes.’
‘You really need to stop watching all of the true crime shows,’ Sophie said. ‘If that was your first thought.’
Marisa eyed her. ‘Oh really? And what was yours?’
Sophie sighed. ‘Like we’re about to clean up a crime scene.’
‘Pretty sure crime scene techs don’t have baseball bats,’ Tom said. ‘But maybe they should.’
Kim, the woman in charge of their session, came back into the room and clapped her hands. ‘Okay, waivers are all signed and you’re good to go. Anyone have any questions about the rules, or anything else?’
No one did, so Kim barrelled forward. ‘The room’s big, but it’s not infinite. Be aware of where the members of your party are at all times. It’s not fun if someone ends up in the emergency room. You have thirty minutes. If you need anything, hit the intercom, otherwise have fun, kids!’
Kim went through the door with a cheery wave, leaving them alone in a white room which was bare except for a wall-mounted shelf with a few other weapons for their use, as well as a table with some mismatched plates, and a box full of electronics and other items for them to destroy. A single, lonely printer rested on the floor next to the table. The room was very quiet, possibly soundproofed, making the thud of Sophie’s bat hitting the ground as she tapped the floor with it echo loudly.
‘So,’ Tom said. ‘Who goes first? I was thinking—’
Marisa let out a guttural yell, raised her crowbar and rushed the printer. She slammed the crowbar down onto the casing as she screamed, the plastic shell quickly shattering underneath the force of the metal. The rest of them remained quiet, unmoving, as Marisa screamed, her teeth bared, the metal bar flashing as she brought it down over and over again. The printer bounced with the force, pieces flying this way and that. Marisa didn’t even seem to notice. She kept hitting the printer, venting her rage, until there was nothing left but a pile of mutilated plastic.
Then she straightened, her breath coming in short pants, a smile on her face. ‘That was amazing .’
Tom grinned. ‘I guess Marisa goes first.’
Marisa put one hand on her hip as she caught her breath. ‘Okay, Sophie’s up. What’s your flavour? Office machinery? Dishes? I think I saw an old phone in the box.’ Marisa’s grin widened. ‘ Or , you could go for door number three.’
She sauntered over to the wall where a paper bag rested next to the door. Marisa had brought it with her but had refused to show it to anyone until now. She pulled out a framed picture of Andrew with the words ‘Mr Wicker Man’ written across the bottom of the picture with a blue marker.
‘Did you just have that lying around?’ Mike asked.
Marisa shook her head. ‘I printed it out, but I did have the cheap plastic frame. I checked with Kim before I brought it in. There’s no glass, so we’re more than welcome to destroy it along with the stuff they’ve provided.’
Sophie hefted her bat. ‘I think I’d like to work up to that. How about we start small with a plate?’
Mike grabbed one of the plates. ‘Do you want to throw it against the wall or smash it with the bat?’
Sophie licked her lips. ‘Both?’
Mike snatched another plate. ‘As my lady wishes.’
He placed the first plate on the floor and stood back.
Sophie brought the bat down hard, the plate shattering with a ceramic shriek. Elation sizzled along her skin. Sophie had broken lots of things in her life, but never on purpose. Never for fun . It felt delicious. Freeing. And she wanted more of it. She brought the tip of the bat down against the larger pieces of the plate, smashing each bit with a satisfying crunch . When the plate was nothing but shards, she held out her hand. Mike carefully placed the next plate into it and once again stepped back.
Sophie drew back her arm, moving her whole body until its shape revealed its new true purpose – to hurl crockery with force. She took a long, deep breath. Then she snapped her arm forward, the plate whizzing through the air. It exploded when it hit the wall, shattering into fragments and splinters of its former self. Sophie straightened, her breathing a little wobbly. She felt so . . . free. So good. It was like she was drunk on destruction. Who knew that breaking things could feel so wonderful? She felt like she could leap over buildings.
Tom went next, choosing a computer keyboard for his object. Sophie thought it was pretty satisfying, watching the keys fly every which way as he demolished the keyboard. When he was done, it was hardly recognizable. It always amazed her how much effort it took to make something, how difficult it was to create, but how easy it was to destroy. A factory somewhere had made that keyboard, the machines humming under the watchful eye of an employee. It took parts, labour, skill and time to build. But all it took to destroy it was an angry young man and a few seconds with a baseball bat.
Mike took on what she was pretty sure was a fax machine – although to be honest, she didn’t think it mattered what it started out as. The important thing was that by the time Mike had finished hitting it, all that was left was rubbish. Sophie wasn’t sure what it said about her that she enjoyed watching Mike bring the cricket bat down with such force, his teeth bared, but there was poetry in his motions. The smooth way his arms swung. The way his back arched on the follow-through to the floor. The satisfying grunt he made when the wood connected with the plastic and metal was almost sexual.
Was that weird? It probably was weird, but she couldn’t bring herself to give a single fuck about it.
Watching Mike was fun . Maybe it was because he was normally such a careful and controlled man. Maybe it was because he usually moved so gently through the world, quietly righting things one hug and homemade meal at a time. She wasn’t sure what it was, but watching him let some of that careful control slip was heady to behold.
The next twenty minutes was an orgy of destruction. More smashed plates, crushed technology, and a truly disturbing amount of giggling.
They saved the picture frame till last.
When Mike put it in the centre of the room, they all waited a moment, like this was a wake and Mike was about to deliver a eulogy. Maybe it kind of was, in a way. Her old life, her old relationship, was officially dead. She never had to see Andrew again if she didn’t want to. Never had to make his dinner, pick up his socks that somehow ended up under the sofa all the time, or watch tennis with him on the telly.
As Sophie looked at her son’s face, she thought it might be the same for him, too. She’d never have asked that from him, though. Children shouldn’t have to pick sides, even if those children were adults. She felt a little guilty about the fact that Tom had, for the most part, lost his father.
The guilt was a nebulous thing, however, and not attached to anything she’d actually done. Just her wishing that she’d chosen better, that he’d had what he needed from a father. Everything else was on Andrew, and if she was being honest, it had been on him for a long time. He was the one that had opted out of time with his son. Who’d left the phone calls, texts and communication to her. He was the one who had stepped out of his former life like it was a suit that no longer fitted, leaving it in a heap on the floor.
Well, she could step into a new life, too. Only she would take Tom and Marisa with her.
‘I think I should have brought more than one,’ Marisa said, eyeing the photograph. ‘Because I think we all want to hit it.’
‘What if you all hit it at the same time?’ Mike asked. ‘Or is that asking for a head injury?’
Sophie looked around the room, at the warped pieces of plastic, metal and crockery that littered the floor. She looked at the photo. And the truly astounding thing was, she didn’t care about it. Oh, she was angry on Tom’s behalf and annoyed at herself for putting up with Andrew for so long, but there wasn’t enough hate and fury left in her to swing the bat one more time. She’d expended her rage for now, and her lying shit-weasel of an ex-husband wasn’t worth any more of her energy.
‘I’ll leave it to you two, actually,’ Sophie said.
Tom eyed her carefully. ‘Are you sure?’
Sophie nodded, stepping back. She felt the palm of Mike’s hand come to rest on the small of her back, support offered if she needed it. That gesture, though not large or extravagant, warmed her more than he could possibly know.
Marisa nodded, swapping her crowbar for a baseball bat. She stood next to Tom, expression resolute.
Tom leaned down and kissed her cheek. ‘You ready?’
She tipped her face up to him, her smile strained. ‘Shouldn’t I be asking you that?’
He gave her a lopsided grin. ‘You can ask me too, if you’d like.’
‘I’m ready,’ she said. ‘Are you?’
‘Yes,’ he said, smiling broadly this time. ‘I love you.’
‘I love you too.’ She went up on her toes and kissed him this time. ‘Now let’s beat the shit out of this photo.’
Tom laughed and they both fell into position. Tom took a moment to adjust his grip on the bat. ‘Ready? One, two, three .’
The bats came down with force, the picture frame splintering instantly. Tom gave it another whack, laughing as he leaned the tip of the bat against the floor.
But Marisa kept going, smashing the pieces until they were almost dust. Her teeth bared in a grimace, her face red.
After a few seconds, Tom darted around to her other side, trying to approach her safely. ‘That’s enough, my love. That’s enough.’ His voice was so soft, so gentle, that Sophie’s heart broke.
Marisa’s must have, too, because suddenly she was sobbing, collapsing in on herself as she slid to the floor. The metal bat hit with a clang before rolling away. Tom was there in a second, pulling Marisa into his lap. He held her, letting her sob against his chest, his hand smoothing back her hair. He crooned mostly comforting nonsense to her and made soothing sounds as Marisa howled her anger and grief.
Out of the corner of her eye, Sophie saw the door open and shut as Mike slipped out of the room. Before she could think more about that, her attention snapped back to Tom and Marisa.
‘It’s not fair.’ Marisa’s voice was heart-rendingly raw as she rasped, ‘I wanted it. So much. I loved it and it’s not fair. ’
Tom held her tighter. ‘I know, my heart, my love, I know.’ He was crying too, his tears no less gutting for all that they were quiet. But Sophie was sure she could see relief there, too, relief that Marisa was finally, finally letting it out.
Marisa’s sobs were gentler now as she wrapped her arms around Tom and held him just as tight.
Sophie felt a tug on her hand, only then realizing that Mike had come back into the room. He pulled her behind him gently until they were out of the door, shutting it quietly behind them.
Tom and Marisa didn’t look up once during their exit, and Sophie was glad. They needed each other right now, not anyone else. Her heart was breaking for them, but it was healing for them, too. Their love, their consideration of and support for each other would see them through this, she was sure of that now. When they grew tired, she would be there to help them until they became strong again.
Sophie plucked the safety glasses off her face and sighed. ‘Do you think we can talk the employees into leaving them alone for a minute? I know our time’s up, but—’
Mike shoved his safety glasses up until they rested on his head. There were twin indentations on each side of his nose, evidence of where they’d been. Why did she think that was cute?
‘I took care of it. There was another group scheduled to come in here, but I managed to talk them into taking one of the other rooms.’
‘How did you do that?’
‘By offering to pay for their session,’ Mike said. ‘They were all pretty amenable after that.’ He put his hands on his hips and blew out a breath. ‘Do you think we should wait for them? Or leave them be?’
Sophie spent a long moment staring at his adorably questioning handsome face. This man. What was she going to do with this man? While the long term was definitely hazy in her mind’s eye, the immediate future was crystal clear. She clasped his face in her hands and kissed him. He tensed for a second, surprised, before melting into her.
The kiss started out soft and sweet, but quickly deepened into something that would have Sophie blushing later. When she finally pulled back, Mike was wide-eyed and out of breath.
‘What was that for?’ he asked. ‘And how can I do it again?’
Her answering laugh was quiet, but no less joyful. ‘How about you take me home and we can discuss it later?’
She’d never seen a man shed safety gear so fast in her life.