Page 91 of Existential

“What the hell, woman?” he says, struggling to contain her thrashing body. “What’s going on, Dagne?”

“You need to find Digits,” I answer, my voice husky from the choking. “He needs to be here for this as well.”

Jo Jo casually strides down the hall to check out the carnage, his usual cold eyes roving over the mess we’ve left around the place. There’s one of Heather’s hair extensions to my left, a spray of blood from Beth across it, and a hand print on the wall where she pushed off to get help. My shirt is torn, and I’m pretty sure my new skills with mascara have gone to waste given the black that’s on my hands from where I’ve wiped away the tears caused by lack of air.

“You girls have some fun without invitin’ me?” he teases.

Murphy rolls his eyes at the crazed idiot. “Go get Digits. Last I saw he was out in the garage gettin’ ready to leave.”

Jo Jo nods and heads down the hall, disappearing out the front doors.

“You going to stay put if I let go?” he asks Heather.

“Sure.”

I push to my feet and step back to the far side of the hall anyway. The rage still simmering in her eyes warns me to stay on guard.

“What the hell started this?”

“I’ll explain when Digits and Hooch get here,” I say. “Best just to say it all once.”

“How fucking hard is it to repeat one word?” Heather snaps, crossing her arms over herself. “You. You started this.”

I don’t bother answering her; she doesn’t deserve a response.

Beth returns, cloth to her face and Hooch in tow. His gaze flicks between the three of us, and he strides over to where I stand, touching my throat gently.

“What the hell?” He ducks his head, checking out the marks that no doubt have been left behind. “You did this?” He spins on Heather.

It’s the first time I’ve seen her truly afraid.

“Wait.” I catch Hooch’s elbow, stopping him in his tracks. “Let Jo Jo get back with Digits, and then I think he’s the best one to explain what he’s done here.”

“What the hell are you on about?” Hooch eyeballs Heather. “Looks to me like she’s the one at fault. What’s he got to do with it?”

“Just wait,” I plead, slipping my hand in his.

He pulls me to him, crushing me against his chest. “Hell, Dagne. I can’t leave you alone, can I?”

All he’s done of late is leave me alone. “It’s not my fault,” I say, shocked he’d think so.

He pulls away, hands on my shoulders, and kisses my forehead. “I didn’t mean it like that, baby. I meant that I feel responsible for not being here to protect you.”

I don’t need to be protected, I just need to be heard. “I told you this thing with Digits would be a problem,” I whisper.

“I’ll sort it. Promise.”

“You two make me fuckin’ sick,” Heather whines from her corner.

Hooch whirls on her, arm outstretched as he points at her. “You so much as speak another word, and so help me, you won’t have a tongue left to utter another.”

Murphy reaches across and shoves Heather in warning. “Learn when to keep your trap shut, woman.”

Normally I’d agree, but in this instance I think Heather’s inability to keep her emotions in check is exactly what the men needed. Her outburst, as much as I’d rather not have had to endure that, has brought up an important subject.

Digits is controlling her, abusing her, and using her to get at me. Which leads to the question, who else has he used her as a pawn over? What else is he doing if toying with Heather is one of his favorite past times?

I told Hooch that having me around would only cause trouble. But now that I stare at this fine tea party we have going on in the bowels of the Fort Worth clubhouse, all I can think of is one line Hooch gave me back at Lincoln.

“Violence is how I resolve things.”