Play (Stage Dive 2)

She shook her head. “You don’t know that–”

“Yes, I do.” I put my hands on my hips. It didn’t feel quite right so I swapped over to crossing them over my chest instead. “I texted him the other day, asked if there was anything I could do. If he wanted me there even just as a friend. He said no.”

And yes, Mal’s one-word, two-letter answer had pissed me off and hurt. The fact that I bought myself a new phone for my birthday was somewhat related. As was the mark I needed to paint over on my bedroom wall. Turns out I had a better throwing arm than I was aware of.

Ev, Lauren, and Lizzy just stared at me. Awesome. I could do without yet again having my heartbreak on display for one and all. And that was a shitty, stupid thought. “Seriously, thanks anyway, guys. For everything. I’m going to take your advice and have a shower.”

“That took balls, reaching out to him,” said Lizzy.

“I had to try.”

Lauren frowned at the floor. “We need booze. Food.”

“Yeah,” sighed Lizzy.

My smile started twitching at the edges. I couldn’t quite make it. “Sounds good.”

Ev nodded somberly. Then she paused. “Anne, be smarter than him. If he means something to you, if you get another chance … don’t give up so easily.”

I had nothing. I just stared at her, lost, not a clue how to react or what to do with myself. It was the same damn way I’d been feeling since the night Mal walked out on me.

“Go get cleaned up.” Lizzy hugged me from behind, wrapping her arms around me and squeezing tight. “I’ll organize some food and drinks.”

“Oh, I can do that after I-”

“Anne, please. Let me look after you for a change.”

I nodded slowly, on the verge of tears yet again. “Okay. Thanks.”

Lizzy set her chin on my shoulder, not letting go. “You’re my amazingly strong big sister and I love you. But you are allowed to need help now and then. You don’t have to fix everything on your own anymore, you know?”

“I know.” I didn’t know it exactly, but I was beginning to feel it. And it was warm, wonderful, and everything it should have been. Not being alone in this, having them all here was a beautiful thing. “Thank you.”

***

My birthday didn’t feel like my birthday. The last two had been nice, shopping with Lizzy and going out to dinner with Reece. But this year’s? Not so much. It was a lot like being back with Mom and pasting a smile on my face for Lizzy’s sake. Making a cake and then getting sick after eating half of it because it was what you did.

I’d been back at work for three days now. The “intervention” had stuck. I hadn’t indulged in anymore crazy cleaning marathons. To be fair, the apartment couldn’t get any more hygienic if I tried. I hadn’t heard from Mal again and I didn’t expect I would. End of story.

My stripy jersey dress was definitely the go-to look for dinner with Reece. It made me happy. Heartbreak could be covered over by a million and one things including cake and happy stripy dresses.

Fucking rock stars with their f**king ridiculous marital demands and their f**king incredible smell, face, body, voice, sense of humor, mind, generous spirit, and all the rest (Not necessarily in that order.).

Fuck them all. But especially f**k Mal.

Reece was fifteen minutes late. I tapped my knee-high brown boots on the scuffed wooden floor, beating out a hectic rhythm. No need to mention whom I might have picked up the habit from. Maybe waiting outside was a better idea, out in the cold wind. I trudged down the stairs and out the door while firing off a text message to Reece making sure he hadn’t broken down or anything.

He hadn’t.

I knew this because he was rolling around on the small patch of front lawn with someone. Not in ecstasy so much as agony. Lots of agony, if the groans and grunts were any indication. A battered bouquet of roses lay tossed aside. What the hell?

“Reece?”

No response.

I blinked, double-checking my vision. Was that really … “Mal?”

Yes, Mal and Reece were fighting on the front lawn. Blood wept from a cut on Mal’s brow and on Reece’s lip. A dark mark covered Mal’s cheek and Reece’s shirt was ripped open. They wrestled on, throwing punches and making animalistic-sounding noises.

“Motherfucking little …” Mal’s drove his fist hard into Reece’s stomach.

Reece grunted and countered by attempting to kick him in the groin. He caught Mal’s thigh instead. Given the way Mal’s face twisted, it obviously stung.

“You’re the asswipe that left her,” sneered Reece.

They came clashing together again, fists and blood flying. Bile stung the back of my throat and I swallowed it back down. Shit, shit, shit. What to do? I fished out my cell phone, dialed Lauren’s number.

“Hi, Anne.”

“Are you guys here? I need Nate out front now, please. Hurry.”

“What’s going on?”

“Mal and Reece are trying to kill each other.”

There was swearing and muttering. “On our way back. We’ll be there in five minutes.”

I hung up. Five minutes. They could hurt each other worse in five minutes and do some real damage if they hadn’t already. I couldn’t wait five minutes. I needed to do something now.

I cupped my hands over my mouth, standing on the front step. “Hey! What the f**k do you two idiots think you’re doing?”

Reece looked my way and Mal clocked him on the chin. Beyond enraged, they fell on each other again.

Well, that didn’t work.

Then Reece swung hard, catching Mal in the face, knocking him back a step. Mal stood, stunned for a moment. And no damn way could I stand there and watch him get hurt any more. It just wasn’t in me. Reece pulled back his arm, his bloody lips drawn, baring his teeth.

“Reece, no!” I didn’t stop and think. Instead, I made like a fool and rushed in, hell-bent on defending my man.

Mal turned. “Anne.”

I ran straight for him. Reece’s fist hit me in the eye and I dropped. Pain filled my world, blanking my mind. Fuck, did it hurt.

“Are you okay?” asked Mal.

“Ah …” was about the best I could do.

“Anne, oh f**king hell, I’m so sorry,” Reece babbled.

“Easy,” said Mal. My head was carefully lifted and placed upon a firm jeans-clad thigh.

“Hey. Hi,” I said, somewhat dazed and confused. I covered my battered eye with both hands, breathing through the exquisite agony.