Page 27 of Beaten

She replied a few minutes later. “We know.”

What the fuck? I’d expected her to say thanks or, I don’t know, something, but not: we know. How’d she know? I typed as fast as I could, wanting to be done with this conversation before Ashley came back from the bathroom.

When I asked, How? Mom responded with, Chris he told us.

I should have known Chris would call Jamie and check up on me. He should have called me, not Jamie, if he was worried. I was probably over-reacting, but I was sick and tired of guys not trusting me and checking up on me and telling me what to do.

Maybe it was the wine going to my head. Or maybe it was because I was more sensitive lately, crying over the littlest things, getting angry over the stupidest things, then crying about the fact that I was mad for no real reason.God,I’m a mess.

I was thinking about what I wanted to say to Chris to convey my irritation when Ashley interrupted my thoughts.

“Who pissed in your boots?” Ashley asked a second before I felt the couch move as she plopped down beside me. I was so focused on being mad at Chris I didn’t hear her come back in.

“Fucking Chris. He called Jamie and checked up on me.” I hadn’t intended to sound so angry, but couldn’t help it. “Can you believe this shit?” It’d been a long time since I’d had this much to drink and I could hear my words slurring.

“Okay, calm down. This is Chris you’re talking about, he probably wanted to check in without interrupting you.”

“Maybe, but I’m still pissed.”

“How’d you even find out? Did Jamie rat on him?” She was giggling.

“No, I didn’t want my mom and dad to worry, so I texted them to let them know I was still here. But they already knew because Chris had told them.”

“Em, it’s sweet how much he cares, and it was actually kind of nice of him to make sure your parents weren’t worried.”

“Maybe.” She had a point, but I still wanted to be angry. I’d never been an angry person, sure I’d get mad occasionally but I never stayed angry just for the sake of being angry. But right now, it felt good to be angry.

Must be all the pent up frustration from living with Craig and never being allowed to argue or have anything other than happy feelings around him.

Ashley refilled my glass as soon as it was empty. I’d passed tipsy a few glasses ago and probably should’ve said no. I usually stopped drinking at the first signs of being tipsy, knowing I’d get screamed at if I came home drunk.But Craig isn’t here and he can’t ever yell at me again. So I’m going to drink as much as I want. My inner voice sounded like a bratty twelve-year-old, and I suddenly had the urge to stick my tongue out at the voices in my head, which caused me to bust out laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

I tried to tell her but couldn’t without the image of me sticking my tongue out, thumbs in my ears and fingers wiggling, every time I tried.I’ve finally lost it.

“Come on Em, I want to laugh with you.” Ashley sounded as much like a twelve-year-old as I felt, which only made me laugh harder.

I finally caught my breath enough to answer. “Nothing, I was just thinking about how long it’s been since I could drink without getting yelled at for being drunk. And then-”

I started laughing again, I held up my hand to signal she should wait, “then I saw myself sticking my tongue out at the world because he can never yell at me again.”

“Not sure the first part is funny, but I’m down with the rest of it.” She raised her glass. “To getting drunk-I-mean-having-fun without getting yelled at and giving the world the middle finger.”

We clinked glasses and lost control, laughing until tears streamed down our faces. Every time we stopped laughing one of us would do or say something that’d set us off again. Then I started snorting, which made us laugh even harder. It was a vicious cycle. When we finally stopped, Ashley drained her glass, stood up and put her hands on her hips, looking very determined.

Oh shit, what’s she doing?

“Let’s go say hi to this sexy bodyguard of yours.”

“He’s not, I don’t think, it’s not-” I was too drunk to form a full sentence. I wasn’t supposed to acknowledge or draw attention to him unless I needed help. Which I most definitely did not.

I also didn’t want him to see me drunk.

“Oh, come on, it’s not like I’m a stranger. We’ll just say hi and ask him if he wants some Chinese food or maybe some wine.”

I hesitated, but she reached down and pulled me up. I gave up arguing as my drunk mind overruled what little logic I still possessed. We walked, or more accurately, stumbled, out the door, down the hall and into the elevator. We stumbledoff the elevator, arm in arm, laughing. Jamie was halfway to the lobby door by the time we got there.

“Is everything okay?”

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