“Suit yourself.”
Then he walked away.
I watched him go, watched the flatbed truck go and watched the street for a good long while before I turned and walked into the house.
I set my cup on the coffee table and stood in the living room.
Petunia, the ginger and white cat, rubbed my legs.
I sat down on the floor, the better position to pet her.
Then I curled up on the floor, on my side, my knees to my chest. Petunia walked on top of me and sat on my hip. Then she cleaned her foot.
This is how Eddie found me when he opened the door.
“Jesus,” he muttered.
I rol ed to my back and Petunia scampered.
I stayed flat on the floor and looked up at Eddie.
“Hi,” I greeted him.
“You okay?”
No.
No, I was not okay. I was anything but okay. I was so far away from okay that okay was in another dimension.
“Peachy,” I said.
“Why are you lyin’ on the floor?” he asked.
Because the best guy I’d ever met thought I was some stupid, idiot woman who would protect an outlaw even after he’d beaten me and kidnapped me and dragged me through three states. Because that same guy was about goodness and justice and wanted nothing to do with a woman like me. Because that fact broke my heart and pissed me off and I wasn’t sure which one I felt more. I thought.
“I felt like having a rest,” I answered.
Eddie took a second to process this, then he said, “Did you talk to Hank?”
I nodded my head.
“I’m here to take you down to the station to file charges against Flynn.”
“Okeydoke,” I replied, rol ed over and careful y got up, holding my ribs.
When I was up and looked at him, he was staring at me with undisguised surprise.
“Sorry?” he asked.
“I said ‘okeydoke’. Can you hang on while I get ready?” He kept staring at me, then, slowly, he nodded.
“It takes awhile for me to get ready. Maybe you want to come back.”
His eyes went guarded.
“I’l wait.”
“That’s cool. Coffee’s in the kitchen,” I told him and then went to the shower.