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Things were kind of a blur until I found myself sitting in the manager’s office, still reeling.
“Coffee?”
“Thanks.”
The Styrofoam cup shook as I took it, the black liquid turning and tossing like a tiny tempest.
“The police have been called, as well as the ambulance service,” the manager said, easing behind her desk.
“He’s, um… alive, right?”
“Barely.”
“Shit.”
“You really let him have it, Nathan.”
“He pulled a gun on me.”
“Hey, I get it, I saw the security tape,” she said, holding her hands up, “A clear case of self-defense. If anything, he’s going down for death threats.”
Seemed about right. Despite what I’d done to his face, the blood smudging the white cup as we spoke. The ache in my hand from gripping the gun barrel was slowly ebbing away.
“The cops weren’t called for me then.”
“Not at all. You should take the rest of the day off, though.”
“Okay.”
Hell of a first day.
“Is there anyone you’d like us to call?”
Dad was out of the question. Not because of what he would do to me, but what he would do to Mr. Beefy if he found out. I didn’t want anyone to die. Even those who would kill me.
Sara was probably busy with work and might not like me much if she found out the details. That really only left one option.
“Yes please.”
Chapter Eleven - Elise
Peace gathered like a gentle fog, giving me the opportunity to thinking about things objectively. Nate had almost certainly seen me naked. There was no way he couldn’t have, given the circumstances. On the other hand, it also had to be relatively quick.
The entire instance had only lasted a few seconds really, and he’d had his head down for most of it. Likely trying not to see anything. There would have been a time it would have been a lot worse, no good intent or outcome foreseeable. In a weird twist of circumstance, we had become friends. His actions were perfectly understand able in that context. He was trying to help.
Also, if I was being honest, I didn’t mind at all, and I kind of wondered if he liked what he saw.
The phone buzzed on the night table, bringing me back to reality, still with a goofy grin. The number was unfamiliar, but something told me I should answer it.
“Hello?”
“Hey.”
“Nate?”
“Yeah, um, can you pick me up? I’m at the Super-Mart, there was a bit of an accident.”
“Is everybody okay?”
“No, someone got hurt really bad.”
“Oh my god, are you okay?”
“Yeah, a bit shaken up, but - he was going to shoot me, Elise.”
“Who was going to shoot you?”
“Kind of a long story.”
“I’ll be right there.”
It was a bit of a trick backing out past Mom’s car, but I managed. I didn’t know what was going on, but it was clear I had to get down there stat. I’d never heard Nate in such a bad way, which could only mean something truly terrible had happened. The irony of the number of times I’d wished bad things on him was in no way lost on me, and I felt a stab of guilt.
It didn’t take me long to get there, and I flew inside faster than I thought possible. “I’m looking for Nate Gattis.”
“He’s” in the manager’s office,” said the customer service clerk, pointing me in the general direction.
“Thanks.”
Without even thinking about silly things like security or protocol, I rushed up the many stairs and knocked on the door.
“You must be Elise,” said a pleasant looking woman in a dress shirt and tie.
“Yes, is he okay?”
“Hard to say, he’s had a bit of a shock. We thought it was best if he went home.”
“Got it, leave it to me.”
I went in past the manager, Nate looking up as I approached the chair. There was blood everywhere, very little of it still the recognizable red.
“Elise?”
“Hey, time to go home, okay?”
“Okay.”
Getting the cup of hot coffee out of his hand as he moved, I helped Nate get up out of the metal and vinyl chair. Taking the stairs carefully, we got out to my car, Nate seeming somewhat improved by the fresh air.
We drove back to the duplex in silence. I still didn’t really think of it as home, that title still belonging first to the house I’d grown up in and then my dorm at school. It would be a while before I could accept anywhere else as really being home, after those losses.
Rather than trying to pull in beside Mom’s car, I just eased up behind it, my return to school more likely to come before her return to on-site work.
“We’re home, okay?”
“Okay.”
“We're going to get you cleaned up and into fresh clothes.”
“Okay.”
I managed to get him up to his room without anyone noticing. I wasn’t quite clear what happened, but considering the amount of blood that presumably wasn’t his, it was probably for the best that his dad not know about it, so I brought him up to my room.
