Broken but Breathing (Jinx Tattoos 2)

“Evening, Snake,” the facilitator, Bryan, said.

He nodded at the balding man with kind brown eyes, and a face worn by the sun and smiles. He exchanged greetings with the others seated in the fold-up chairs, and took his customary seat against the wall. It offered him a view of the door, and no blind spots. Old habits died hard. He’d lost his family and his dignity once because he wasn’t prepared. He’d be damned if that ever happened again. He narrowed his eyes as Jason walked in. He’d figured out the man’s game. The tanned, muscular, pretty boy preyed on the women who came in at their lowest. It turned his stomach, but it wasn’t any of his business.

“Okay, we’ll be starting class in a few minutes. I’m happy to see some familiar faces. Grief is a journey, and we all have our high points and low points. This group is here to be there each step of the way.”

The door pushed open, and his jaw dropped. A waif stood in the doorway looking like a fairy. Dirty blonde curls framed a slender, oval-shaped face. Bright blue eyes, which were prominent, added a fairytale surrealness to her delicate features. She worried her bottom lip with her teeth and shifted uncomfortably.

“Is this the grief group?” she asked.

Her voice was melodic, yet filled with sadness. Her pain was fresh. He remembered the overwhelmed, desperate look that came with the start of the healing process. After you’d accepted the hand you’d been dealt.

“Yes, it is,” Jason purred. Fucking shark in the water. It was clear the suit wearing businessman saw an easy target.

Not this time. The woman seemed to shrink away from Jason. Interesting.

“It is, I have an empty seat you’re welcome to,” Snake said.

She blinked slowly. “T-thank you.” She scurried over and sat beside him, placing her slender hands in her lap.

He liked his woman with a little meat on his bones. It was all he could do not to offer her one of the cookies they had on the table against the back wall. Her bones jutted out in sharp angles. He could tell she hadn’t been eating properly. Everyone dealt with grief in a different way, so he wasn’t judging, simply observing. He stared Jason down, pleased when the punk turned away. This one’s off limits. He studied her again, and she shifted her weight in her seat.

Stop looking at her before you scare her. He forced his gaze back to Bryan.

“Welcome…” Bryan said.

“Estelle,” she whispered.

“Estelle, we’re glad to have you here tonight.”

“I was— Dr. Nimoy recommended it to me,” she said.

“Oh yes, Dr. Nimoy has helped many of us here. Since we have a new face, why don’t we go around the room and introduce ourselves?” Bryan suggested.

The meeting started up and he re-directed his attention to the others. He cleared his throat at his turn.

“They call me Snake. Most of you know me. I’m here because the anniversary of my family’s death is coming up quick. Always makes it harder to deal with. Otherwise, I’ve been doing a lot better dealing with things. I don’t think I’ll ever get closure. They were the victims of a hate crime.” He gritted his teeth, fighting against the desire to remain silent. Holding it all in led to explosions. That wasn’t safe. He had to keep his head on straight for his club. “They never caught who did it. The case is still open.”

When Estelle inhaled sharply, he turned to face her. She’d covered her mouth with her hand, and tears shone in her eyes. It touched him.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

He felt something inside him soften.

“We’ve all lost here,” he said.

Murmurs of agreement surrounded him.

“Is there anything the group can do to make this time easier for you, Snake?” Bryan asked.

He shook his head. “Just listening is plenty.”

“I think it’d be wise for you to make sure you have a buddy right now. It’s something to consider,” he said.

Snake nodded.

“What’s a buddy?” Estelle asked.

“Someone you trust to call when you feel yourself becoming too overwhelmed. We all have them,” Bryan replied.