Rory's Christmas

Chapter 2

Chapter 2





It was with some degree of trepidation that Rory found herself on the front steps of her flat that evening. She paused before the door, debating on the different ways she could lecture her sister.



Her temper had been pretty short lately, which meant Jan was probably tired of being yelled at; so she could do something new and go for the pity route—“I’m your baby sister and you worry me when you go out like that”—or maybe just the callously honest don’t-be-stupid-and-start-acting-your-age one.



But Rory was tired, too.  She didn’t want to have to argue with her sister again—Janet was older than her, for God’s sakes. Rory should’ve been the one getting told off. Not her.



Thinking like that’s never going to do you any good, an annoying voice whispered in the back of her mind.

Just get in there and take whatever curveballs you get. You’ve dealt with this before, you can do it again.



Rory decided to follow her own advice.



“Hello?”



Nobody replied.



At first, Rory didn’t think much of it. Janet was probably still sleeping. But when a quick peek into her bedroom showed it completely empty-the pills and note both gone, the glass of water drained—Rory felt it. The anger. The frustration.



She marched right to the kitchen where she had left her purse and had Janet’s number already halfway dialed before she noticed the stick-it on the fridge.



gone to joe’s christmas party! he’s so hot <3 see you later! xoxo JAN



Her sister was the only person she knew that always signed off with “hugs and kisses”. Hugs and kisses. What did they matter if Jan was getting herself into trouble yet again and Rory had just rescued her the very night before?



And she was at a Christmas party. A goddamn Christmas party.



Rory glanced at her kitchen knives, feeling only disappointment when she realized that any one of them would leave plenty evidence if she ever tried to commit murder with the shiny blades.



Joe’s Christmas party. Joe. Why the hell was Janet at Joe’s party, of all people? The drug-dealer-turned-church-organist was another of her exes-only worse. Mac had squandered his inheritance money on cars-and, as Jan later found out, girls-and Joe had used Janet as his own piggy bank. Mac had nearly gotten skin cancer from all the ink on his skin; Joe had nearly lost a limb from too many injections into the same wrist. Mac had cheated on Janet so many times he couldn’t even give her a straight answer after they broke up, and Joe...he had nearly gotten Jan hooked on cocaine until Rory discovered some of the powdery drug sprinkled in her sister’s fireplace one night, threw him out by the cuff of his shirt, and forced Janet to sell the apartment and live with their father for half a year before she bounced back into the city, unable to stay away from its budding nightlife. Unable to stay away from any sort of distraction to help herself forget.



If only Rory had that same luxury.



She sighed, dropped her head into her hands, and groaned despairingly.



She knew what she had to do.



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Rory had Joe’s address firmly imprinted on her mind, just like she had all the addresses of all of Janet’s past flings. This way, if any of them ever tried anything again—e.g., the way Mac had—Rory could go straight to their home and persuade them to give up-“persuade” being a very loose term here.