Everywhere, All At Once

Chapter 7 - That Much Wiser

It took Kenna almost an hour to convince the EMTs that she didn't need to go to the hospital and to convince the two police officers who had come flying into the alley with their hands on their weapons that she didn't want to press charges. They'd made her give a statement because they had to file a report about the incident either way. They had also made sure she knew that they could still press charges without her permission in an assault case. The nicer one of them said he'd call her in a few days to check on her and see if she'd changed her mind.

She'd had to tell them that she didn't know the assailants' names, just to be safe. It wasn't that she wanted to protect James - not by any means. But she knew if she pressed charges against him, he'd never leave her alone. She'd have to see him in court, and of course he'd just get a slap on the wrist, and then he'd be free and have a grudge to repay her for. No thanks, she thought.

Kenna acknowledged, bitterly, that this was the reason so many people got away with domestic violence. Women - and men, too - just wanted it to be over. They didn't want to enrage their abusers further; they didn't want to have to testify; they didn't want to have to be in the same room as them ever again. She understood all of those reasons, but mostly, Kenna just wanted to move on. She'd get her windows fixed, her car detailed. Other than a sore throat and raspy voice, plus her newly reformed headache, she'd have no lasting damage. The cost of the windows was well worth James being out of her life for good.

Because even if he was crazy enough to try and choke her in the middle of an alley full of people watching, he wasn't the type to stalk her and hunt her down for breaking up with him or pushing him to the ground in front of his friends. He didn't have the malice aforethought for that. Frankly, he wasn't smart enough either. He was impulsive, easily enraged, and apparently violent, but he was childish. He'd retaliated for embarrassing him then had managed to get away without consequences. To keep himself out of jail, he'd leave her alone for good. She hoped.

Kenna went home, still shaking, showered, then cleaned out her car of the shattered glass as best as she could. She would have to get it detailed. She taped up her windows with plastic garbage bags, then went back inside and finally allowed herself to open the wine. She hadn't wanted to before, just in case, since she was handling broken glass. But now she could get well and truly drunk, because seriously, she needed it.

It hurt to swallow, made her nauseous, and she noted the angry red finger-shaped marks turning purple on her neck in the mirror. She was halfway through her bottle of wine, had had two shots, and had listened to "I Hate Everything About You" on repeat about twelve times when her phone rang, interrupting her musical catharsis.

Kenna rolled her eyes. She was probably going to have to change her number, just in case James did call her and try to apologize or something or maybe come try to finish the job. Walking over to the counter where her phone lay, she glanced at the screen to flick the reject button down on whomever was calling, and she saw Aaron's name.

The room spun for just a second as if she were coming back to real life. She was supposed to be having lunch with Aaron. Hours ago. She'd stood him up hours ago and never called him or texted to say she wouldn't be there. Shit. She contemplated not answering for about half a second before guilt got the better of her.

"Hello," she said, trying to lessen the raspy, pained sound of her voice, but that made it hurt so much worse.

"Kenna," he said, sounding surprised that she'd answered. "I tried calling you and texting. You had me worried."

She hadn't looked at her phone since before she'd gotten to James's apartment, and she'd turned it off when she'd been cleaning her car, so she'd obviously missed the calls and texts.