Across the table is Nic—who’s gained a little weight everywhere but is basically all belly—Duke, and Jeremy. Baby Boy has scooted a little too close to Chey, who is on his other side, under the guise that his sister is annoying him. Duke, who normally would handle that shit immediately, just laughs. He knows Baby Boy’s game just as well as I do. I just hope he doesn’t mind me taking out his future brother-in-law if the idiot gets the balls to actually make a move.
Chey is sandwiched between Jeremy on one side, and Naomi Mercer—Holly’s mom—on the other. Between Ian and Naomi are Edgar—Holly’s dad—and her brother, Theo. Sweets wasn’t sure about inviting her family to dinner with us, but they had been calling every day to check on her. Naomi mostly talks to my mom when she calls, as Holly isn’t much for shooting the shit with her mom these days, but we’re making progress. Chey seems to like Naomi well enough, but then, Chey likes everybody when she’s in a good mood. Edgar keeps glancing nervously at his daughter, though he doesn’t say a word. Sweets has managed to talk to her dad and brother on the phone at least once each since it happened. Her family doesn’t seem the least bit comfortable in our company, but they’re going to have to get used to it.
Family is important and one day their daughter is going to take my last name and it’ll be my baby that makes her waddle and gives her stretch marks. I never thought of knocking a woman up the way I’ve thought of it with Sweets—not even when Layla was ready to burst with Chey. Didn’t think anything of it when Sweets mentioned it before everything went to hell, but after? Fuck. I’d shred my own flesh to give her a little happy and to stop the panic attacks.
One of the reasons this is Holly’s first trip out of the house is because the entire town knows what happened at Universal Ground a few weeks back. Incorruptible cop Harry Mercer’s sweet daughter was brutally raped and beaten during one of her shifts. Her friend Aaron Lennox was killed trying to protect her. For such a straight arrow, Harry Mercer sure didn’t ask many questions about how one guy ended up with a bullet in the back of his head and the other’s face was smashed in by a brick. Can’t blame him. His daughter is fucked up in a deep way. She's only just been released from the hospital last week and has refused all visitors.
Because he’s too close to the case, his involvement is unofficial, but that hasn’t stopped him from coming by my house three times in the last two weeks to talk to Holly about what happened. Every time he tries to bring it up, she goes to that fucked place where she’s destroying that guy’s face again. It takes hours to get her back to a safe place where she isn’t seeing blood everywhere. Needless to say, Uncle Harry’s visits have been stopped for the foreseeable future.
She’s just not ready to talk about it. I don’t know if she ever will be. She cries in the night, waking up in a panic, but last night was the first night she didn’t ask me to call Ian. I’m always on edge and worried as fuck when I call him for her. She has him repeat much of the same things he said on the phone that day.
Hang in there, Holly.
We’re coming, we just have to be quiet.
He seems to break the sobbing by asking her to tell him what’s happening. That always shuts her up and calms her down. She’s beside me now with her face shoved into a Mendo burger. This is our first trip out of the house together since that shit went down at Universal Ground. She almost didn’t come today, but Ian talked her into it. They bonded during that phone call where those sick fucks forced her to verbalize Mindy’s assault. As much as I want to be the one to fix her, I’m slightly eased by the fact that Ian is so patient with her. My woman needs kindness and patience while she tries to pull herself out of her dark hole.
There’s some shit I don’t think I’ll ever get over. Like seeing Layla give birth to Cheyenne or the first time my girl walked without falling on her diapered butt. Even her first day of school –all memories that are forever etched into my soul. But it’s the fucked memories that keep me up at night.
Like seeing my woman straddling some half-dead tweaker. Her eyes were wild, her face was covered in tears, and she had a bloody brick in her hands. She looked at me like I wasn’t even there. Her jaw shook, and her chest heaved. With one look down at the man beneath her, she slammed the brick into his face. Not once. Not twice. But again and again until I had to pull her off of him. She fought me, screaming and pushing at me. I still don’t know everything that happened in that room. I know enough—for now. The rest is a nightmare she relives every fucking night. One I can’t save her from.
Another half an hour and there’s light chatter, but they all keep it quiet. Even Ryan keeps his volume at a respectable level, but when a car backfires outside, Sweets curls into herself and grabs onto me for dear life. I give Chey a nod, and she stands with us. The others stand and spread out. Holly recovers quickly, wipes her tears, and laughs at herself, mumbling, “sorry.”