She was too out of it to interpret Trishâs sigh as anything other than disappointment. She had screwed up, royally, in so many different ways it was getting hard to keep track of it all. Trouble does seem to find you, Bruce had said to her once. But it was her, it was all her. She didnât look for it, didnât want it, but apparently, thatâs just who she was. The sort of person who couldnât take a step (a stumbling goddamn step) without putting her foot down in shit. âJust promise youâll visit and sneak some goddamn shanks in,â she quipped, though her usual sarcasm fell flat.
She could feel Trish tense up, sending a new wave of guilt crashing over her. Christ. She really had no goddamn control anymore. She shook her head violently, sending the world spinning. âMostly I ranted until I hit her and she tossed me out,â she muttered, leaning her head in one hand. She was quiet for a moment, breathing raggedly. âIâm here arenât I?â she asked, her voice dark. âItâs like, 3 am, and I just showed up on your balcony.â It had always been like this between them, she knew that. Hours had never meant anything, but the guilt was still raw and real tonight. âHe knows me. Well enough to seeâŠâ She trailed off, biting her lip hard. She picked up her head, glanced at Trish with tired, desperate eyes. âYou did it better than I ever could, Trish. Kicked your shit, got away from everything, and didnât â didnât let it swallow you whole.âÂ
âI wonât have to visit,â Trish said, and there was no room for arguing in her tone. âYou wonât be in there. Youâll be here, with me, or at your house, you hear me?â Like hell sheâd leave Jessica to rot in a cell, to be confined, without any hope of escape. She couldnât be trapped there, and she wouldnât be. Not while she was here.
Her shoulders rolled, releasing any tension that remained in them. This was Jessica, this was her sister, and unfortunately, her saviour (no matter how much she didnât need one). She was the only person sheâd die for, and she knew that feeling was returned. Sheâd never hit her. (Her anger was understandable, it came from the abuse sheâd faced. It wasnât intrinsically part of her like it had been her mother). âHave you talked to her since? Apologized?â Trish asked gently. If Jessica was mentioning it, it meant that whoever sheâd hit, they were important to her.Â
Her hand reached for Jessicaâs and she squeezed, letting her know that it was okay. âI want you to be here, Jess. If you need someone, Iâm that person, always.â It wasnât something that she said often, but it was necessary. âNo, he doesnât. If he thinks that you drag me down, he doesnât know you at all. You built me up. You helped me become this person.â She was going to kick Bruceâs ass later, that bastard. âNo, I let it swallow me whole, and then I crawled back out. I was at rock bottom, and you know that better than anyone. Donât glorify it, Jessica.â She paused, âBut you can do the same.â