Page 45 of Fox
“Yeah,” I whisper. “When… When they died, I wasn’t—a lot happened and I didn’t handle it well.”
“I remember,” she nudges my knee with her leg. “I was there that day, remember?” I do, but remembering her as a teenager is not where I prefer my head to go.
“Yeah, well, after that day, Tony always made sure I wasn’t alone on the anniversary. So this is my first—”
“You’re not alone, Fox,” Her words pierce me in my heart and knock the wind out of my lungs. Staring up at her, I watch as she slips into my lap. “Don’t freak out,” she says before I can ask what’s happening. Janie presses her chest against mine as her arms wrap around my neck, hugging me to her. I’m still for a beat, in too much shock to move, but slowly, my arms wrap around her body, and my face nuzzles into her neck.
“You’ll never be alone Fox,” her voice is strained, as if the grief in me is transferring to her. Though, maybe it doesn’t have to. After all, we’ve both lost people we love. “You’ve got me,” she whispers against the side of my face. “You’ve got me, and even though I don’t mean much to you, I’ll never let you feel this way alone. I promise. If you need a hug, just let me know, no questions asked.” A sob forces its way out, and I’m unable to stop it this time. I hold Janie closer to me, inhaling her beautiful scent.
“You have no idea how wrong you are, Janie. You mean more than just about anything.”
“So, am I getting a negative review?”I ask while helping Janie close down the shop. She and I stayed in that hugfor at least an hour. It was indescribable. I never wanted it to end. She sat on me, arms wrapped around my neck, stroking my hair. If I hadn’t been so stuck in my grief, I would’ve fallen asleep.
Janie stretches to turn off the open sign before locking the front door. “Nope, you have an appointment with her after Vegas.”
“Perfect,” I groan. “Prolonging my torture, thanks Torch.”
“Fox, as much as I love torturing you, I wouldn’t use a client to do it. You were having a bad day and needed some time to breathe.”
I’m unconvinced. “Uh huh, and when she comes back, she’s gonna expect some—”
“She’s going to expect this.” Janie hands me a sketchpad from the front counter. I furrow my brows.
“This?” I point at the sketch. “Torch, this is… it’s atrocious. Which one of the assholes drew this?” Janie shifts while looking at the empty tattoo area.
“The client did,” she states quickly. “Give her a break, she’s not an artist.”
“Obviously,” I mutter, looking over the drawing. “So, a broken mirror?”
“Mhm,” she says tightly while we head toward the exit. “It’s representing her breaking out of an abusive relationship, breaking away from the image everyone forced on her.”
“Okay, yeah, that makes sense. I don’t know why she didn’t just say that to begin with.”
“Dunno,” Janie shrugs, and I notice there’s some invisible wall between us that wasn’t there before. “Maybe it just took her some time to open up. Now let’s go, I’m starving.”
Atlas: Red ain’t answering my texts
Me: She turns her phone off once she’s at the house, especially after the death threat thing the other day.
Atlas: Okay but I need to talk to her.
Me: It can’t wait until tomorrow?
Atlas: Just remind her to bring that notebook back tomorrow. My sketch is in there for my client, and I’m not drawing those scales again.
Me: Notebook?
Atlas: The one she was drawing in when she was talking to your client earlier.
Me: SHE was drawing in it?!
Atlas: Am I speaking another language here? Yes, SHE, Red, was DRAWING in MY notebook for YOUR client.
Atlas: So remind her to bring my notebook back. K Thx Baiiii
Laying in my bed, I stare at my ceiling in shock. Janie drew that picture for my client, and I tore it apart and made fun of herafter she held me in her arms for an hour while I cried. Today might really be one of the worst days ever.
TWENTY-ONE
