“Listen, I have to go,” I say. “Murrell is freaking out about this call we have at ten and I already have a bunch of emails I have to getto.”
“See? Fuck Dorrit. Can’t keep a bad bitch like youdown.”
“Yeah, well maybe he’ll send someone with an actual weapon next time. Two between the eyes usually does thetrick.”
“Hey, there won’t be a next time. For real. I’m serious. Just let me and Tillery see what we can pull together. I’ll talk to youlater.”
“Scott.”
“Yeah.”
Why are you doing this?I almost ask, but I know what my mother would say. Just accept the gift. No matter how much they’ve botched this, Scotty and Tillery are trying to help me. Take the kindness. Except this time it’s different. This time I know things, I’ve done things, and I know I’m not the only one in this situation who can’t tell the wholetruth.
“I’m outside the office. What’s up?” hesays.
“Nothing. Thankyou.”
“Noproblem.”
“And after this, stop using Tillery. He sounds like a shitty.P.I..”
“Fuck, who are you telling? I’ll hit you up later.” He ends the call. I sit on the bed for a long time, letting the AC blow on my bare back. Long enough for Honeycrisp to come over to see what the fuck is wrong with me. She sits down beside my foot and puts her head on my knee. It’s probably the most adorable thing that’s ever happened to me, and when I scratch the top of her head, I can just hear what she’s thinking.What’s wrong with you, girl? What’s all the yelling about? Why are you sitting in this cold ass room butt ass naked?And really, the question I’ve been meaning to ask myself the last fewdays.
Why are you letting Scott handlethis?
Yes, I needed help last week. I was hurt, I was in shock, I was traumatized. I still am, but not to a crippling degree. And what’s more, I’m fine enough, healed up enough with my slightly achy wrist, and my ankle, and my barely tender ribs to fuck the daylights out of a strapping, age appropriate farmer. I took the time I needed, got the distance I needed, and the help, now it’s time to get back to life and handle this shit on my own. Dorrit might have it out for me, but fuck him. I’m sick of hiding and letting men who are clearly terrible at their jobs create even bigger problems in myname.
I throw on some clothes and then grab my laptop and head to the kitchen, Honeycrisp at my heels and Joe slowly pulling up the rear. While I wait for my coffee to brew, I textBrooklyn.
I’m coming correct on Dorrit. I’mdone.
She answersimmediately.
Fuck yeah! That’s my bitch rightthere!
but don’t tell me anythingelse
via text because I’m notgoing
to jail foryou.
Call you when we break forrecess.
Readingher text suddenly makes me feel like I’m back to my old self. Yes, Dorrit tried to take me out. It’s beyond fucked up, but you know what? I won. I fought. I saved myself. Even if my time here is limited, and even though I know that fear is a perfectly reasonable reaction, I don’tdeserveto be afraid anymore, especially of self-entitled pieces of shit like David Dorrit Jr.. I dig through my email and I find the address I’ve been looking for, cc’d deep from months and months ago. I put YOU HAVE MY ATTENTION in the subject line and then I keep the email itself short andsweet.
DEAR,MR.DORRIT,
SORRY THINGS DIDN’T WORK OUT AS YOUINTENDED.
WHAT IS IT I CAN DO FORYOU?
* * *
Silas catchesme at a real bad time. I’m pretty amped up. I open our group chat just in time to see that Brooklyn’s messaged the girls and told them we’re starting a brown girls vigilante group to protect ourselves against overinflated white men in positions of power—then she goes into court. After I explain what exactly she’s talking about, Noa, Claudia and Rayna declare that they absolutely have my back. I know I was trying to protect them from what Dorrit might have thrown at me next, but I forgot that in addition to Scott, I have a whole crew of bad bitches who would do anything for me. That simple fact makes me want to go home even more now, but I want to see if Dorritresponds.
By the time Silas comes rolling through the front door, shouting about how he’s brought me food, I’m ankle deep in work emails, trying undo some more crap that Murrell has thrown at me. When Silas comes into the kitchen, I’m so pissed I don’t even look up from mycomputer.
He leans down and kisses my forehead. “Brought you a burger and side salad and some fries, just in case you wantboth.”