I should feel embarrassed, but I don’t. The next day I sit with Maggie on the couch while Neil is out. She’s been very quiet since I picked her up from her old place. Maggie stares into space, and I know that memory is tangling with the new one and playing over and over again in her mind.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
She inhales and shakes her head, before offering me a forced smile. “There’s nothing to say. Same old shit. Nothing’s changed, but it hurts more now.” She smiles like something’s funny. “I would have thought it hurt more when I was a kid. Guess not.”
“What’d he do?”
“The same old stuff. Victor likes to own things.” She shifts in her seat and then stands, putting distance between us. “I was supposed to set him up with a girl. He has a type, round hips, dark hair, and pale skin—like Nicole Kidman—but a brunette. So every week, I bring him someone. They get a few hundred and he does what he does. On weeks that I can’t find anyone, I sub, but this time.” She stops speaking and shakes her head. “I shouldn’t have. It’s usually just rough sex. He slaps me around and nails me. I go home and that’s that. But this time…” She shakes her head and looks over her shoulder at me. “I don’t want to talk about it. I tried to get away and then gave up when he said what he’d do to me, and then to you. He slapped me around for a while, taking me however he wanted, and then I heard your voice and was scared to death that he’d get you too. I’m so sorry, Hallie.”
“It’s not your fault.” I feel horrible that I let her life crumble like this. We were supposed to be there for each other. “I should have gotten there sooner. I would have. I wish I could take it all back.”
Maggie smiles sadly and wraps her arms around her middle. “Yeah, me too. So now what? No offense, but I can’t stand Neil.”
I nod. “I was thinking that I should get a place of my own before the wedding. It’ll be me and you.”
Maggie’s gaze sweeps the floor. “You’re seriously going to marry him?” I nod and give her a look that says don’t press it right now. She adds, “I’d love to, but you know I can’t afford to do it.”
“Yes, you can. I got part of my advance. We can go house hunting whenever you want, oh, and this part isn’t optional—you work for me now. I’m going to need a personal assistant to tell me what to do, you know, someone a little bossy.”
Maggie giggles and shoves me, then slaps her hands over her mouth, and repeats the action. “No way!”
“Way.” It’s so good to see a burst of happiness flash in her eyes for a brief moment. But as soon as she blinks, it’s gone, lost within the depths of agony that fill her soul.
One day she’ll stop fighting back. One day she’ll give in, give up.
She would have already if I hadn’t shown up. Some people take you straight to Hell. It’s ironic, because I have blood on my hands and it doesn’t feel like she’s pulling me down. It’s more like I’m pulling Maggie up from the torturous life she’s known, and hidden with that pretty smile.
I don’t regret my actions. The thought makes my skin tingle. In the back of my mind, I wonder what kind of person that makes me, but I straighten my spine and get up. It makes me who I am and there’s nothing more to consider. I did what I had to do. I wouldn’t have touched Victor if he left her alone, if he hadn’t threatened to come after us, but he did. I saw the fear in Maggie’s eyes and the truth. If Victor Campone had lived, we would have died.
“You hungry?” I ask as I pad toward the fridge.
“Yeah, a little bit.” Maggie has been sitting with her feet curled under her butt and looking at her hands since I picked her up at Victor’s. She rarely makes eye contact. I think the fight was knocked out of her. It shows up in spurts, but it’s like a car that’s running out of gas. I’m so worried about her. After everything she’s been through…
This can’t be what undoes her. It can’t.
Because it’s my fault this time.
Every other time, Maggie fought back. She never gave up, never gave in, and now my best friend is slumped on the couch, covered in bruises and cuts, with eyes that resemble black holes—they suck everything in, but see nothing. They feel nothing, not anymore.
I smile and say something stupid, trying to make her laugh, but I don’t even get a pity grin. After tugging the fridge door open, I groan aloud. Neil is working today and failed to go shopping.
Maggie asks, “What’d he do?”
“He took all the leftovers from the party to work. I thought it was fine because he’s supposed to go shopping, but he didn’t.” I’m leaning into the empty fridge staring at a carton of expired milk and a jar of pickles. I’m not eating that. I slam the fridge and add, “I’ll run out. Does Chinese sound good?”
Maggie usually protests and offers to pay for stuff, but today she just nods. “Great!” I say, sounding chipper. She’ll come back around. She will. If I keep telling myself that it’ll happen right? I suddenly realize if she doesn’t rebound, killing Victor wasn’t enough revenge to get even for what he did to Maggie.