Page 104 of Off-Limits
I’ve stopped calling Dottie, but I make certain to message her once a day so she knows how much I love her, and that I’m not giving up on her, or on us, but she still hasn’t replied, and it’s damn near killing me.
Grabbing the bottle of whiskey from the side table, I take a swig, grimacing when I hear the door unlock. It can only be one of three people, and I know it won’t be Dottie or Arrie.
“Get your sad sack of an ass up,” Johnny yells, causing me to groan and take another swig.
He rounds the corner with a bag in hand and stops short when he sees me.
“Fuck, you look like shit, and when was the last time you showered? You stink, wankstain.”
I flip him the bird and take another sip, causing him to heave out a deepsigh.
“Damon, this isn’t what Dottie would want.”
Anger surfaces once more, and I point the bottle at him, and it swishes around before spilling from the top. “Don’t you tell me what Dorothy would want, when she hasn’t had the decency to explain!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Damon! We know exactly what happened. That ex of yours threatened to have you charged with statutory rape, by lodging a false claim to her boyfriend, who is a fucking cop. Whether Shane would have believed her or not, is not the real issue we have here is it? Dottie left to save your ass, and to protect you and Arrie from Kerry-Anne’s vengeful wrath.”
“She didn’t give me a choice,” I slur. “I would have given up everything for her because I fucking love her!”
Johnny sighs, pushes his hand through his messy blonde bun and levels me with a stare, his tattooed muscles flexing with the motion and I can’t help noticing how put together he looks, compared to how I currently feel.
“And that’s exactly why she made the choice she did. You’ve worked hard to get where you are, and although Arrie is pissed at you now, she will come around because she loves you, too. I’m not sure of the reasoning Dottie has for staying away, given Kerry seems to have taken a step back whether for Arrie or not, it doesn’t matter. All I know is I think that girl needs some space, and you have to give it to her if you plan on getting her back.”
Swallowing, heat prickles my eyes and a tear falls free.
“I love her so fucking much, Johnny, it physically hurts,” I declare, banging my chest where my heart is.
“I know, believe me I know, but let me help you like you’ve helped me so many times before.”
His voice catches at the end, and I know he’s reliving a piece of his dark past. With one eye closed, I look at my bestfriend of over thirty years, and see three of him, but I can’t help noting the genuineness in his tone, detecting how much he wants to be here for me, to save me from my fucking self, like I’ve done for him countless times before.
I’m lucky he’s still standing here and not six feet under, but I refuse to focus on that right now. He’s here and that’s all that matters.
“I don’t want to live a life without Dottie and Arrie, Johnny.” I say, deflecting.
“I know, but you have to know that you won’t.”
My ears prick up at that.
“What do you mean?”
“Well first, we are going to work on cleaning your sorry ass up, starting with a shave and a fucking shower, because you look like you should be in the morgue, and then we will discuss how we are going to get your girl back and your daughter. So, move your ass.”
Johnny helps me toward the bathroom. We stumble a few times, laughing, but Johnny catches us and keeps us moving forward.
When we finally make it there, my best-friend sits me on the toilet and steps back. “Stay.”
“Fuck you, asshole,” I growl, wobbling on the toilet and flipping him off.
The room starts to spin, so I close my eyes, but it only makes the space spin faster. Grumbling, I stagger off the toilet, lift the lid and empty the entire contents of my stomach into the bowl, hearing Johnny’s laughter from my room.
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Bow to that porcelain god, oh fallen one.”
“Fuck. You!” I managed between heaves and gags.
It only makes him laugh louder, the fucker.
After what feels like days, I’m finally able to move mysorry ass from hugging the toilet bowl on the floor. It takes a couple of attempts, but once I’m upright, I feel a little more myself.
