Come To Me (Owned 3)

“I guess I had that coming.” I looked into my coffee. It was almost empty and I could nearly see the bottom of the w

hite porcelain cup.

“What the hell, Vic?” Grace demanded, slamming something down on the counter. I raised my brow at the tiny box of Band-Aids, but reached in and took one still.

“It’s a long story,” I explained as I placed a small Band-Aid over one of my cuts. It was cartoon themed.

“Well, we have all night—unless you have to be gone before sunrise.”

Ignoring her quip, I stared at the closed door that separated Lenny from us. “I can’t talk here.”

Following my gaze, Grace said, “She thinks she’s the reason you’re dead.”

“How could she possibly think that?” It wasn’t a question I expected an answer to—I said it more to myself—but Grace was the kind of person who took things at face value; call it a quirk. She sat down next to me and poured the box of Band-Aids out, organizing them by size as she prepared to explain. Holding one up, she looked to me.

“Pick a reason.” Grace slapped a Band-Aid on my neck. “She blames herself for everything. She blames herself for makin’ you leave the job and for them comin’ after you, and she blames herself for takin’ your will to live.”

“What?” I exclaimed. Lenny had taken plenty of things from me. She’d taken a few shirts, she’d taken my sanity some nights, and she’d taken my heart. My will to live was not among those things.

“Lenny saved me,” I said, voice low. Looking away, I focused my attention on the small slice of black between the door and the carpet that separated us from Lenny. Most people who worked for GEM like I did didn’t live to see their thirtieth birthday. I’d already passed that point and was living on borrowed time when I met her. Lenny had come into my life like sunshine on a rainy day, like light in a cave. Without her I would have disappeared into a black hole.

Grace laughed, but the sound was hollow. Sticking a Band-Aid on my wrist, she said, “Maybe you should have stuck ’round to tell her that. She’s collapsin’ without you. She sees a psychiatrist every week and a therapist every day.” I thought back to that weird building I’d seen her entering. It was starting to make sense.

“So she’s on meds again?” I asked. I knew she was getting meds for the squirrelly kid, but not for herself.

“Yes,” Grace said.

“Good.” I finished the dregs of the coffee, nodding to myself.

“You need to tell Lennox you’re alive.”

“You said yourself she’s seeing a psychiatrist. She’s getting help. She’s doing better.”

“Did you listen to a word I said? She blames herself.”

“She’s sleeping through the night. She’s on meds.” She wasn’t doing those things when I was around, I added in my head.

“You’re an idiot, Vic.”

“Well don’t sugarcoat it.”

“I won’t. So what if she’s goin’ to work and sleepin’? That’s not livin’. She’s dead in her life—more dead than you, apparently.”

I stood to leave, but a Band-Aid on my finger stuck to the counter. I frowned, slowly unpeeling it until I was free. I must have been covered in at least twenty Band-Aids at that point. Still bloody as fuck, but now a hundred little cartoon Band-Aids were stuck to my skin.

Children would definitely run screaming.

Pushing out from the counter, I walked past Grace’s disapproving gaze. Arms folded, even in her pajamas she had the ability to call my regrets to attention. I walked by them on my way to the door. My hand was on the knob when Grace pressed,

“She once told me that you were the only one who loved all of her. That you loved without thought to your wellbeing, but maybe she had it wrong. Maybe you loved without thought to her wellbeing.”

I kept my back to Grace, letting silence be my answer.

Feeling like an ass, I stared at the door. I could feel Grace’s disapproval on my back like a hot sun. Her sighs, her little ticks of disapproval, didn’t go unnoticed. Far from it. Still, I didn’t turn around. Instead, I turned the knob. Just as I was about to open the door, Eli burst through like something out of a fifties TV show.

“Honey I’m home! Sorry about all the late nights. This new professor is really—” His eyes landed on me and stopped dead. “Zombie!” Eli yelled, pointing. “Zombie!” he said again, falling against the door he’d just come through. I raised my brow and looked at Grace, but she was already walking toward him.

“It’s not a zombie, it’s Vic.”