If You Fall

Twenty Seven

Bella woke us all up vomiting in the morning. It was too early, only seven. Reed rolled back over but I waited until she went back out and then left my room.

She sat on the couch with her head in her hands, then reached for the bottle I'd left on the table. She uncapped it and drank without looking up, then kind of hugged it to her. "Thanks for the haircut." Her voice was neutral.

I sat by her, taking the risk of getting punched in the face, but I felt pretty sure she wouldn't do it. "I had to. It was too tangled."

"I'm surprised you were able to save as much as you did." She smelled like alcohol sweat, and slightly of vomit, but it was a thousand times better than the night before. She jerked her chin at the now-stiff leather jacket. "Your boy's work?"

I inclined my head in acknowledgment. "He was most unhappy about your condition."

"Yeah, he's a regular modern day knight in shining armor, isn't he." But she looked at the jacket again and swallowed. Tears began leaking from her eyes. Dane wasn't the only one who could cry silently. Actually, we all owned that little talent.

"I'm sorry, dude," I said gently, putting my arm around her. I handed her the Kleenex box, which was currently My Little Pony. "I really am. It's just, Reed works for this group that rescues kids from sex trafficking. Like, little kids. And they, um," I leaned in and whispered, "kill the assholes who do it. So, one like, caught Reed, and he got away, but they thought he was coming here, so we had to bail really fast. And that made me involved. But I couldn't tell you because you're not. You weren't."

She blinked once, twice, and raised her eyebrows. I watched as the information slowly sank in. "That actually does explain it all."

I felt a huge wave of relief. "Right? And so I went with them and, I mean, I'll tell it all to you. I helped them save these three kids. And I fucking shot somebody! And one of us got shot, I mean, not me, of course. Arianna. You'll meet her, she's in love with Reed, we hate her. I'm totally kidding, I'm not allowed to hate her. Not that anyone allows me to do anything . . . you know what I mean."

She looked bewildered but managed to absorb the majority of this. "Wow," she said faintly. "How come you get to tell me all this then?"

"Well, you're a part of it now," I echoed Reed's words to me.

"I am," she said, not following.

"I mean, they're like, retiring from going on these missions or whatever. So we got a huge house? It's close to here. And we're going to do foster care. For these kids they save."

She fished her cigarettes out, setting the bottle on the table, and lit one. I got up and opened the window a few inches. "You're serious about all this."

"No, Bella, I just made it all up right now. How'd I do." I rolled my eyes and got a cookie from the kitchen.

"God, I feel like shit," she said wonderingly. "I don't even remember the last like, five days. What day is it?"

I told her.

"Okay, yeah, the last like seven days, then. I vaguely remember this," she gestured to the tragic artwork on herself. "Happening a few times." She shrugged and reached for the bottle, holding it between her knees while she uncapped it. "I just didn't care. And it wasn't 'cause you were gone," she said kind of quickly. "Not that I give fuck one about your guilt factor right now, even if it wasn't your fault."

I was plenty guilty. "What have you been on? You've lost like twenty pounds and it hasn't even been three weeks."

"It's the meth and vodka diet," she said scathingly, directing it at herself. "Breakfast, lunch, and dinner of champions." She thought of something and groaned. "I'll probably have to burn my apartment down."