Liberosis

Every person that's ever left

A few days later, Chloe found herself in therapy, retelling that day's events.

"What did you do with the gun? Did you keep it?" her psychologist asked.

"I only kept these." Chloe pulled out a necklace that was hiding under her T-Shirt. It had two bullets hanging off it, as if they were casual attachments. "One for dad. One for Max. A bullet for every person that's ever left."

The older woman nodded and then leaned in on her chair. "Have you told your Mom about it?"

Chloe rubbed the back of her neck. "I haven't had the chance to get her alone... She... David acts like he normally does, as if he hadn't hurt me. He doesn't even look sorry."

"Must've been hard on you to see him on your house after that."

A round of applause for Captain Obvious over here. "Well, I haven't stuck around. I've been mostly hanging out on Rachel's."

For a moment, it was just her in Rachel's arms. When what felt like forever passed, Rachel got up and cleaned her mess. Chloe wanted to help, but she was still in shock. She knew David was an asshole, but not an aggressive one. She should've seen it coming, he is a veteran after all. Maybe, deep down, Chloe trusted that her mother had chosen a decent guy at least, clearly not.

"Hey," Rachel broke her out of her trance and stretched out her hand. "Wanna get out of here?"

Chloe tried to speak, but her throat was way too dry. She nodded instead and took Rachel's hand. Slowly, they made their way out of the garage. In the hallway, Rachel looked upstairs, but then noticed Chloe's hesitation so instead, they went out the front door.

"It was like she was reading my thoughts," Chloe confessed. "I've never felt more understood... We walked all the way to her house."

Rachel let Chloe sit on her kitchen counter as she took ice from the refrigerator and wrapped it on a towel. She then stood in front of Chloe, laying the ice against her cheek. It stung a little at first, kind of like when Rachel first applied makeup on Chloe in her dressing room.

Chloe had never seen someone look so worried about her... Okay, maybe her Mom, but this was different. Rachel's eyes were so... liberating, in a way. You stared at them and you felt like you could leave it all behind for that pair of hazel irises. Even in this silence, she didn't need anything else, those eyes felt like home.

"I'm glad you have someone to rely on," the psychologist said. "No matter what you're going through, you can call her. I'm sure she'll be there for you."

"Do you think she'll ever get tired of that?" Chloe asked shyly, playing with her thumbs. "Of me needing to be rescued?"

In Rachel's room, they laid on bed in silence, staring at the ceiling. Chloe was still processing everything and Rachel was waiting for her to speak first. If Rachel hadn't been so worried about Chloe, she probably would have grabbed the gun and killed that motherfucker. Nobody touches Chloe, especially now that she's only hers to touch. She thought about what to do next: Should they tell anyone? Joyce? The police? Was she being too dramatic? No way, this can't happen again. Maybe Rachel could ask her Mom for advice.

"I've..." Chloe suddenly spoke, her voice better now that she had drunk water. "I've never been hit before. Not by my parents. Not by anyone. I never let them. I knew how to defend myself. My dad taught me well."

Rachel turned on her side to look at her girlfriend. Her skin was pale, her cheek still red. She looked so small, even though she was taller than Rachel. She wanted to reach out, but it didn't feel right. Not now, at least.