Page 26 of In a Haze

I can’t let her get to me. I can tell that would make her enjoy this game all the more. So I slide my food over so that my back will be to her. I’ll still know she’s there, but I hope I’m sending a message that I’m not afraid of her.

Even though, deep down, I am.

Without moving my head, I glance at my arm. It’s red where her fingers had been digging into my flesh, and I won’t be surprised if those marks turn to bruises. In fact, I can imagine one is already changing now.

I’m really not hungry anymore, but I don’t want Bobbi to have any clue she got to me. I use my fork to pick up a tiny bit of hash browns—and they taste even greasier than they looked. I can’t taste any potato at all, just grease and too much salt. The bacon’s not much better, so I cut a piece of waffle off with my fork. While it’s too sweet, it’s not horrible.

When Joe sits with me, his plate loaded high with a little bit of everything, he asks, “How long was she here before I got here?”

“Not too long.”

“Jesus. Your arm.”

“I know. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. You know you can report her, right?”

“What would that do? Put her in solitary, like she said?”

“Could.”

“And then what? When she gets out, what do you think she’d do?”

“I can protect you, Anna.”

“Not everywhere, Joe. You can’t come with me to the bathroom.”

And I remember my first morning. What if Rose hadn’t been there?

I continue. “And don’t you have therapy sessions anyway?”

“Just once a week.” Like a savage animal, he places a slice of bacon between his teeth and rips it in half, chomping on it. After he swallows, he says, “I could find someone to protect you when I’m unavailable.”

“I’ll be fine, Joe.” I just need to avoid that psychopath. Maybe she and I have history. What if we were lovers and she’s reclaiming me?

No, that couldn’t be it. There is nothing there—no fondness, no familiarity, nothing appealing to me at all, unlike when I first met Joe. Well, met him again.

“I could get you a weapon. And it’s not much, but you could take your fork with you.”

I start laughing then. “What’s a plastic fork going to do? I’d break the tines off first thing and then she’d really be pissed.”

Joe lowers his voice, leaning over. He’s talking to me, but I can tell he’s looking straight at her, sending her daggers. “You could stab her in the eye with it.”

“And then she’d kill me.”

“You want to just roll over and let her do whatever she wants to you? Is that it?”

“No—”

“Then you either fight, Anna, or you let me protect you. That’s something I can do.”

“But—”

“Nobuts.”

I’m exhausted just navigating through this conversation, so I pick up the short glass of water and down the whole thing. As I’m considering getting up to fill it again, Joe says, “Do you feel safe at night?”

“What do you mean?”

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