Mr. Halloway's Pet

Chapter Twenty Seven

All I can do is blink at her. Nothing in my mind could have prepared me for this conversation. I don't think I've been dumbfounded to this extent before. I'm not even sure if dumbfounded is the right term; perhaps throw in horrifically in front and it may match what I'm feeling a wee bit better.

"Killed him?!" I say after a lengthy pause. Her expression is now both dread-filled and nervous. "What happened?"

She swipes another tear that manages to escape from her already red, puffy eye and sniffles, "I don't even know."

Burying her face in her hands and shaking her head, she continues, "It was like a fucking movie, as cheesy as it sounds. I never thought it'd be something I'd experience...I brought home dinner and didn't get him anything because he's been refusing to eat for the past 2 weeks. But he got so mad at me for not getting him his stupid Mongolian beef or whatever the fuck it is."

A broken laugh leaves her, sounding a bit hysterical.

"But he got mad and started yelling, so I did too. And then he started singing that Delilah song and talking about how he should have named me Delilah. I told him to fuck off and went to walk away but he grabbed me. And that's when he started calling me Delilah, telling me I'm playing hard to get and talked about how I beat him at rummy. I don't even know what the fuck that is." She pauses to sniffle, and I continue my attempt at rubbing circles on her back, "But he started taking my shirt off, saying I'd regret acting like I don't want him. God it was horrible."

She bites her lip again, and this time I see a bit of blood as the result. I place an index finger on her hand and shake my head for her to stop gnawing.

She makes eye contact but looks down quickly and dismissively, "He ripped my shirt, though. I thought that was it, honestly. But I got ahold of one of him bottles and hit him over the head. I definitely didn't stick around long enough to see if he was okay. I haven't gone home sonde and he hasn't contacted me so I don't know what to think."

My frame is frozen in place, I have no words fitting for this conversation. I'm not sure if any words are suitable. What do you say to someone who just lived through one of the most traumatic things a human could go through?

I watch her as she squeezes each of her fingers individually. Going down the row, I watch as she pinches the reddened skin.

It didn't seem out of the ordinary that she was wearing the same thing as this morning, but I do see torn fabric hidden under her million jackets.

"Drea, how long ago did this happen?" I ask, lifting her face to look back to me.

"Like, 3 days ago." She answers a bit too casual for my liking.

3 days of not having anywhere to go. Where did she stay before last night? Hopefully David's.

My heart hurts for her. It's sickening how her entire life was falling apart and I was completely ignorant to it. When she was dealing with being touched by a grown man two times her size and having to worry if she took his life, I was babbling to her about a stupid boy.

All of last night, I didn't pick up on one signal that something was off.

Guilt is loud and hefty in my heart as I try to keep my own tears at bay.

It's no use, though, because now I'm reaching for Drea with moisture in my eyes to avoid her seeing. The last thing she needs is having to comfort me when it should be the opposite.

Once again, we're embracing each other.

"Are you crying?" She asks, pulling away. I keep the hold tight, though. "Paige, why're you crying? Don't be sad, everything's okay, I promise."