Ezekiel
18
It’s sad to say that messing with Anthony Stull while putting Evie’s coat on for her is the highlight of my evening. Pretty much everything else about this whole wedding is crap. Koby and Dominic don’t have to work it, so I’m alone, and the bride’s mother keeps stopping me as I walk by, pointing out stuff only rich, picky people care about, like the fact that the tablecloth on table three isn’t perfectly even, and that the flowers on the half of the cake facing the head table aren’t the prettiest ones.
I turn the cake for her three times, and after that, I just start taking the long way around the dining room. Waiting on Evie’s table is also a drag, especially since Tony keeps staring at me the whole time. I’m tempted to tell Dr. Parker that his daughter is dating an abusive guy, just to see him go postal on Tony. I’m pretty sure that Dr. Parker can take him; the guy clearly spends some time at the gym, and the fight would have been pretty intense. Uncle Alex and I could have made bets on it.
In the end, though, I remind myself to mind my own business, and keep my mouth shut. The other highlight of the night is, without a doubt, finally being able to touch Evie’s hair. I shouldn’t do it, shouldn’t egg Tony on when he’s already pissed, but I can’t help it. That hair has sat in front of me all year in class, taunting me, and I am not about to pass up the opportunity of having a semi-legitimate excuse to touch it. Tony’s face makes me want to laugh, and then I’m too busy thinking about how soft and shiny Evie’s hair is, and how good it smells.
After they leave, I even sniff my hands like a fucking moron, before I can stop myself. Uncle Alex stares at me like I’m crazy, and I realize that I probably am. However, I can’t deny that my hands smell freaking fantastic. It’s like they tease me from then on, giving me small hints of Evie’s scent whenever they get too close to my face.
Once Evie and Tony are gone, it seems to be the end of the first rush of guests departing the wedding, and I walk over to Uncle Alex and ask for my break, since I haven’t gotten one yet this evening. It’s a pretty raucous wedding and he’s slinging drinks across the bar like a madman, his tip jar practically overflowing, but he still takes the time to glare at me.
“Are you going to smoke?”
“Nope,” I lie, crossing my fingers behind my back.
He snorts and levels a hand at me, pointing just like Cameron does. I let him because he’s my uncle and has an inch on me, plus probably a lot more fights under his belt. “Just don’t be late coming back. Fifteen minutes on the second, or I’ll write your ass up.”
“Got it,” I say, knowing he won’t. Reliable help is hard to find, especially only on the evenings and weekends, and Koby, Dominic and I are always the ones who have to come in and save the day when the other staff calls off.
I duck out of the banquet hall and down a hallway, juggling my phone and lighter and pack of cigarettes, not sure if I want to check my phone first or get outside and light up. I make it exactly six steps down the hallway when I hear a scream and freeze mid-stride. There is utter, bone-chilling silence for a long moment and all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Then I hear someone talking, a deep male voice, and there is another scream and there isn’t a doubt in my mind that it belongs to Evie Parker and that she’s close by.
The phone and cigarettes fall from my hands as I hear a loud grunt of pain, and then I see the bathrooms and I’m running full out down the hallway, until I slam into the door to the women’s restroom. I scramble for the door handle, my hands already slick with sweat and nervousness, but I finally get it open.
For just a moment, I’m completely light headed and almost pass out. Blood. There’s bright red blood everywhere on the floor, and Evie is lying in the middle of it, Tony standing over her, holding her head up by her long hair. For just a flash of a second, I’m terrified that she’s dead, and then I see that she’s struggling against Tony, her chest rising and falling with great gasping breaths as she screams without opening her mouth.
She’s covered in blood, especially her face, and I can already tell that her nose is broken. Her left arm is hanging in a weird, limp sort of way, and her right hand is beating against the bathroom floor in pain and Tony is trying to drag her across the floor.
I’m not sure what exactly I do, but next thing I know, my right fist is stinging with pain and Tony has let go of Evie and fallen backwards right on his ass, shouting in pain. It’s chaos, because I realize that I’m shouting at him, cursing and screaming, and he’s giving it right back and Evie is still on the floor between us, sobbing and unable to keep her moans of pain quiet.
Tony tries to stand up but I kick him in the gut as hard as I can and he curls into the fetal position, clearly unused to being on the receiving end of pain. I kick him once more, just to make sure he’s down, and then I turn to Evie, kneeling down next to her.
I reach out to touch her and she cries out, jerking away from me. I try again and she cries again, and I suddenly realize I’m trying to grab her left arm, hanging loosely from her body. I reach for her middle, and she recoils again, sobbing.
“Evie, come on, let me pick you up,” I say through clenched teeth. My hands are already bloody, the one knee I have planted on the bathroom floor is damp and I can feel the moisture on my skin through my pants, wet and cold. “Fuck, Evie, where did all this blood come from?”
“I-” she begins to croak, and then she coughs, and blood comes out, dribbling down her chin.
I nearly lose it then, and white fills the edges of my vision, but I force it back down.
You’re a fucking man, Quain,
I tell myself.
You don’t fucking faint at the sight of blood!
I slip an arm underneath her legs, since they seem to be the least damaged part of her, but when I try to get a hand around her back and shoulders again, she cries out.
“Fuck. Just do it!” I say aloud, and force myself to ignore her as I finally get her in my arms and stand up.
Evie is moaning and sobbing, and I have to struggle with the door handle, my hands now slick with blood as well as sweat. I jostle Evie and she coughs again, and I see blood spatter on my crisp white shirt and my knees go weak and I actually sag against the door for a moment.
Damn.
I’ve seen blood before, but never has it seemed so bright and so glaringly red as it does against the whiteness of my shirt.
“Pull your shit together,” I mutter under my breath, and finally get the door open.
It’s better in the dim hallway where I can’t really see Evie or the blood, but then I’m turning into the big, main hallway and can see the lights of the banquet hall just ahead. Salvation. People who can help. I glance down at Evie and her eyes are closed and I’m unsure if I should try and get her to respond, or just leave her be. In the end, I just focus on getting her into the banquet hall.
“Alex!” I shout, and I’m embarrassed when my voice comes out as a high pitched squeak. I clear my throat and shout again, “Alex! Alex!” Then, as I rush through the banquet hall doors, I realize that I’m calling the wrong name. “Dr. Parker!”
I weave through the guests, toward the bar where at least I know I can find Uncle Alex, and slowly the room begins to fall quiet with the hush of whispers.
“Dr. Parker! Dr. Parker!” I’m screaming now, hysterically, though my voice is still trembling. I’ve almost made it across the room when Alex appears in front of me, his eyes wide as he takes in the bloody girl in my arms.
“What the hell, Zeke?” he cries out.
“What the hell do I do with her?” I shout right back, my voice frantic. “
Help
me!”
Alex doesn’t even hesitate. He turns to the table right next to him and whips the tablecloth off, not even blinking as the china and glasses hit the floor—along with the entire wedding cake, good and bad roses alike. I lay Evie down on it just as Dr. Parker appears at the edge of the crowd that has formed around us.
He strides purposefully forward, pushing back his shirt sleeves. “What happened?” he asks as he approaches the table.
It’s clear that he doesn’t realize who is on the table, that he thinks he was called forward just because he’s a doctor, because as soon as he gets close, his eyes go wide and he practically jumps the last few steps and loses his cool.
“Evie!” His voice is strangled, and he’s immediately by her head, brushing her hair out of her face without any regard to the blood that freaked me out. He looks up, and his face has suddenly aged ten years. “Call an ambulance!” he barks.
I pat my pockets franticly before remembering that I dropped my phone in the hallway. I whirl around, but Alex is already behind the bar and on the phone. I turn back to Evie and her dad, unable to look away, unable to think of anything else to do.
“Hey there, princess,” Dr. Parker is saying, and he’s apparently regained his composure because his voice is calm and soothing. “Tell me, baby, where does it hurt? Where are you hurt?”
I see with relief that Evie’s eyes are open, and her right hand lifts up, pointing with trembling, red fingers to her midsection. “Ribs,” I hear her wheeze. “Kicked… me.”
Dr. Parker looks up, and now there’s murder in his eyes. “Who did this?” he demanded. “Where was she?”
I hold up my hands, which are also stained red and probably don’t do much to ensure my innocence. “It was Tony!” I say quickly. “They were in a bathroom, I heard her screaming! I was just in the banquet hall, you can ask Alex!”
My words have a ripple effect on the crowd, and they begin to buzz immediately.
Alex steps up to the table, hovering slightly. “The ambulance is on its way.” He slides a look over at me. “So are the police.”
Dr. Parker looks up again, and I can see that his hands are shaking on Evie’s torso as he feels for damage. She’s moaning and writhing on the table, and I look away, sickened as she coughs up blood again.
“Go to the bathroom. If Tony is still there, bring him back here to wait,” Dr. Parker commands, and Alex rushes off without argument.
It’s my turn to hover by the table, and the manic feeling breaks down all barriers I have in my mind, and as if from a distance, I hear myself say, “It’s not the first time. I-I saw them last week, at the other wedding. He hit her. I told her to tell someone, I swear I did, Dr. Parker. She wouldn’t do it! I told her to and I should have told you, I’m so sorry. I almost did, I just didn’t know why she wouldn’t tell and-”
“It’s fine, Zeke,” Dr. Parker says, and it’s a credit to his skill as a doctor that his strong voice cuts through my hysteria and actually makes me feel calm. I look into his dark eyes, shaped just like his daughter’s, and I actually feel some of my crazy shock melting away. “You couldn’t have known. She’ll be all right. Thanks to you. Thank you for helping her. You did well. Why don’t you take a seat, Zeke, and we’ll handle it from here.”
I nod, shakily, and suddenly realize how weak my legs still are. I blindly back away until I hit the bar. I reach out with a trembling hand and find a barstool and collapse onto it, watching as Dr. Parker continues to talk soothingly to Evie.
I watch as the banquet hall seems to explode with bright lights, red and white and blue from the ambulance and cop cars. I watch them take Evie away on a stretcher, navy-uniformed paramedics swarming around her like bees and Dr. Parker following anxiously, his Stepford-wife fluttering along behind him, wringing her hands.
I watch the cops come up to Tony, who is being held securely by Uncle Alex, much to the chagrin of his parents. But they can’t deny all the blood on his hands and face, spattered all over his shirt. He keeps trying to break away, to flee, until they lead him away in handcuffs.
I want to feel justice, some vindication for Evie, pleasure that she’ll be free, that her secret is out. But somehow, I feel this is just the beginning for her, and that everything is far from over.
Evangeline
19
When I open my eyes and am confronted by painfully bright lights, my first thought is that I’ve died. I have died, and this is heaven, judgment day, and I have a terrible flash of fear wondering where I’ll end up. I squeeze my eyes closed, and then open them once more. This time I blink and can make out the shape of the fluorescent bulbs in the ceiling above me, and I realize I’m still on earth.
I close my eyes again, feeling unsteady even as I realize I’m lying down on my back. It takes me a moment to center myself, to feel solid and unmoving, and I open my eyes again, letting my head roll to the left. The small movement makes me aware of the pain. Oh, the
pain
.
It’s suddenly everywhere. My face, especially my nose. My entire left side is red-hot, and the familiar burn and lances of pain at the smallest movement are back in my ribs. It feels deeper this time, however, and I can feel a dull ache and throb
inside
me. It hurts to breathe, and so I focus on taking shallow breaths with minimal movement.