Broken Wings

Part Thirty One - hell on earth

Chapter Thirty One

"She's here."

Abi's groan was the most emotion filled sound he'd ever heard. "Thank fuck. Is she ok?"

Aaron sighed, "she's sleeping off several bottles of vodka."

"Shit! After all this time? When will this end? Fuck. Why couldn't I be there when it happened?"

There were questions, but there were no answers required, instead, he tightened his grip on the phone, it was all SO confusing, "what's going on Abi? I can't deal with this anymore, she's cagey, you've hinted at stuff...and her mother..."

"Her mother?" She shrieked, almost deafening him. "What has that bitch got to say about anything? It's half her fault! SHIT. More than that even."

He sat back and closed his eyes, "she called here, left a message. I am in way over my head, I am blindsided by things that everyone else seems to know about, and I don't know what to do."

It was Abi's turn to huff out her breath, "look, Julia has a complex past, you know that. She's over it, but it's a fine line, her bloody family. Aaron, I can't tell you what is her story to tell, you have to understand that, you have to make her explain, you have to make it right for her."

He shook his head, "I don't think I can, Abi. She needs you maybe."

"Since she's been with you she's been happy, happier than I remember. Don't let this destroy that. She's hard...to get to know. But she has settled in, you get her. Please give her a chance. And call me as soon as she wakes."

He didn't feel obligated because of Abi's words, he was all that Julia had. But it wasn't that either, he liked her, a lot. If he couldn't do this for her, then he wasn't the man he professed to be. Plus, Abi was right. Julia needed him.

Earlier he'd cleaned her face, her hair, and helped her into one of his old t-shirts, he hadn't perved on her body, she'd been awake and feisty enough to snatch the clothes from him, though that lucidity only lasted a few minutes. By the time he got her to the bottom of the stairs to his room, her protests had died on her lips. He'd carried her upstairs, and she'd been fast asleep since.

He checked her breathing, that he could wake her every hour, and made her drink as much water as he could. By midnight he felt tired, she'd been settled for a few hours, and he wasn't concerned that she was going to vomit and choke on it anymore. So, he pulled a throw from the lounge and settled onto the small sofa in the corner of the room.

It wasn't comfortable, but he was tired...yet he didn't want to sleep deeply for fear of missing something, so it worked.

Julia tried to move, but for a moment she couldn't. Her legs were trapped, and she started to flay, lashing out with panic. Only for a moment, but enough to dislodge the two dogs who rushed up the bed to her face to lick her. Groaning she fell back against the pillows, everything hurt.

She tried to process where she was, what she was doing. Her last thought...she groaned again. Drunk, stumbling, how did she get here? She tried to open her eyes, then groaned for the third time, she had no idea where she was. Then she remembered the dogs and sighed with relief. She was at Aaron's at least. She hadn't been this drunk ever before...well maybe once.

She screwed her eyes closed as the tears fell from her eyes uncontrollably. She thought she'd cried every last tear out, obviously her sorrow knew no limits. The letter. It was back in the forefront of her mind, killing her slowly.