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“He held a knife to my throat. He could have killed me.” I frown, irked that he is not taking it seriously.
“Again, without clear evidence or witnesses, it would be your word against his. And since there’s not so much as a bruise on your skin...” He lets the sentence linger as his eyes bore into me and I fight the feeling of intimidation.
“So, if I had come in here black and blue and bleeding, then would I have a case?”
“That is a bit harsh. We wouldn’t want that to happen.”
Michelle huffs in disbelief at the answer. I, on the other hand, I’m pissed. “Or maybe if he had cut my throat last night and some wino stumbled across my bloody corpse this morning, then maybe I would have a case, right? And maybe not even then because I wouldn’t be alive to look through your gallery of criminals to point out who did it. Come on, Michelle. I think this conversation is done.” I stand up.
“You need to sign the report Miss—”
“Why? It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s clear to me that you couldn’t be bothered, so why waste any more of my time?” I snap. I hold what’s left of my composure long enough to step out of the building. But as soon as I feel the cold air on my skin, my eyes blur. Michelle slips her hand into the crook of my elbow and steers me along the pavement. I sniffle, trying hard to hold myself together.
“Let’s get some coffee.”
We walk silently and soon find ourselves in a little corner booth. I feel emotionally drained. Helplessly, I allow the tears to fall. I place my head on my arms. The headache is back. Michelle orders, and I don’t lift my head until she touches my arm when the waitress brings two mugs of the steaming brew. I take a few sips, allowing it to burn its way into my stomach. Tears stream and fall into my mug.
“This is just too much, Michelle. Whose grave did I step on to deserve such a shitty life? I feel cursed!” I sniff and swipe at some tears with the back of my hand.
“Don’t say that! You’re not cursed. You’re just going through a rough patch. That’s all.” She covers my hand with hers and squeezes my fingers.
“Mywhole lifehas been a rough patch! Out of all the people in the worldIhad to be the one to hook up with Grant Duncan.”
“You couldn’t have known. It’s not like he wore a sign saying ‘shitty boyfriend looking for a girlfriend’ emblazoned across his chest or something.”
“But I should have known. The signs were all there. I should have known it was drugs, Michelle. The fights we had were just not normal.” I’m slumped over the table, as the weight of my situation bears me down.
“How? Grant was your first real deal boyfriend. He was a far cry from Lenny and all those others. He was the first one who actually acted mature and seemed to have the potential for a permanent relationship. And you’re not the only one to be blamed here. I encouraged you to keep seeing him, right?” She takes a sip of her coffee.
“But ultimately, it was my call. I should have known. It was all good in the beginning. But then he started staying out late and losing interest in himself and everything. He’d barely shower or shave. When I talked to him, he’d snap at me. Then money started disappearing and the arguments got worse. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I wonder how long Spike was after him before I kicked him out.”
“You did the right thing, Sidney. I’d have kicked him out too.”
“You know who I blame? His parents or rather, parent. His deadbeat absent father left him and his mother to fend for themselves.”
“There are kids with stable homes who still turn to drugs. And there are kids from broken homes who turn out just fine. Look at us. Your mom running out and leaving your dad to raise you, and me being adopted did not send us down a road of popping pills or pushing needles. Sidney, Grant is a grown man and he has a responsibility to be a man and take responsibility for his own actions. But I get your point,” Michelle says.
I take a few more sips and sigh. My heart feels like a lump of lead in my chest as I ponder the bleak outlook of my future. “What am I going to do, Michelle? I have no job. My savings can keep me going for maybe a few more months if I scale back and cut my bills and grocery in half. But if I don’t get a job, I’m screwed. And being jobless does not change the fact that these thugs are after me. I just don’t feel safe. And what happened just now with the police does not give me any reassurance either.”
I sit staring into the mug as my coffee grows cold., I’m just like this cup of coffee. All the heat is fading away from me, a cold feeling seeping through my core. Inside, my lack of hope is leaving me emptier and emptier until there is nothing else but an empty shell.
“Move in with me. You know I have that extra room,” Michelle suggests.
“I can’t do that, Michelle. I’d be putting you in danger.” I love that she is offering but I can’t put her through this too.
“I’ll take my chances.”
“You’ll just become another target.” And if anything happened to her, I’d never forgive myself.
“Think about it.”
“I have, Mich. My answer is no.”
She laughs softly and I smile for the first time in what seems like days.
“Think harder. Just know that you have a bed at my place if you want it. And I’m good financially, so there’s no pressure to contribute.”
“I know but—”
