Torn Tears

Apprehension

All afternoon I have the pervasive feeling that something is wrong. It keeps me from accidentally falling asleep while working which is nice, but Lucas is all I can think about.

Twice, I pull up his contact information. I just want to hear him tell me that all is well, even if it isn't.

I work like a fiend hoping to finish my work early. I need out. Something's not right.

Elliot walks past my cracked open door on the way to the copy printer. A few minutes pass and he leans in through the crack. "You okay?"

"Fine. I got my second wind. I'm great." I hope he's not seeing through me.

Elliot has an uneasy air about him.

"What's wrong, Elliot? Why do you look like you need to throw up?"

Elliot looks shocked by my remark as if he were completely oblivious to the fact.

"Nothing's wrong." He says stiffly after a moment's pause.

I stand as he continues walking back to his desk. I dart out of my office after him.

"Elliot! There is something very not right in your expression now that was not there during lunch."

He lays the papers he collected upside down on his desk and swivels his chair away from me.

With all of the unease of the afternoon fueling my courage, I barge behind his desk and reach for the papers. He moves them just in time.

He turns to look at me. "You would be immediately fired for looking at those. Nothing I could say would stop them."

"Elliot, I do not particularly care about that. I'm exhausted. I've felt like something bad happened all afternoon. Please, if you have any hint that something is not right, tell me. I'm making myself sick worrying about something I can't put my finger on.

He swallows hard and pops his knuckles.  "There are worse things that could happen if I tell you."

"So something is wrong." I seize the hint.

He rolls his blue eyes up to the ceiling. His dark hair is not held by as much hairspray as usual and flips back slightly as he tilts his head back. He lowers his head and looks at me, pulling in his lower lip and chewing it nervously.

I nod. "Thanks." On an impulse, I ask something else in the hopes that Elliot will understand my code. "Do you have any leftover pizza from yesterday?"

"Yeah." Then his expression flashes with realization. He stands and touches my arm at the elbow. "You should come help me finish it later. Go home and change if you want. Give me time to shower. You remember where I live, right?"

"Yeah. I'll do that." I look at the time. 5:30. "I've already finished my work."

"Go ahead, then." He waves me to the door.

I retreat to my office to grab my keys.

I wave to Elliot as I walk out. 

*****

I don't really remember much about being booked into jail except that Ricardo traded his promotion for bringing me in to watch me personally.

After that, humiliation ensued. When I got caught in city hall, I wasn't truly booked into jail. I was just thrown in a holding cell. Now, I get the full treatment.

Strip search and acidic, demeaning comments.

After an icy shower, I dressed in clothes that don't fit because they're made for a man double my size. Then, they beat me over for fun. For a while, I refused to fight back. Anything I do could affect Jess. They told me that much when they caught me the first time. But a man can only take so many cheap shots below the belt before he fights back.