He didn't want to cry.
He didn't want to shed another tear because of that sick son of a bitch. He however had to do something with all the emotions raging through his body, and the moment he entered the house he grabbed a vase off the table and smashed it against the wall. Furiously he breathed out, all his muscles burning because he felt so tensed. The next thing his grabby hands found was the candy bowl, which met the same fate.
"Juice!!!"
Two hands pushed against his chest. The only thing he could see, was a dark haze and before he knew it, his fingers were squeezing the soft flesh of someone's throat.
A hand slapped his cheek, dragging him out of himself. The shadows were replaced by a face, and the moment he recognized Lotte he let go of her and stumbled backwards.
"Fuck. Sorry. Sorry baby."
And there they were nonetheless – those fucking tears.
She rubbed her throat, glaring at him. "You can't do this Juice. Next time go to your own house when you're having a tantrum. Imagine Mikey had been in the room!"
Shame made his cheeks glow, and the anger faded. He had been raised in a violent home, was he really on his way to do the same to his nephew? Tears stung in his eyes again, and he blinked them away. He refused to cry again. It wouldn't help him anyway.
He cast his girlfriend an apologetic glance and started to pick up the shards of the vase and bowl.
"Let me clean it up." Softly, she squeezed his shoulder. "Take a shower and tell me what happened when you're done. Okay?"
She talked to him like she used to talk to Mikey which annoyed him. Nevertheless he headed to the bathroom, took off his clothes and got into the shower cabin. He turned the water so hot his back was burning, his skin becoming red, but he forced himself to swallow the pain, helping him to control his breathing again. As he left the shower, he could think a little more straight. He put on sweatpants, forgot about a shirt and sat down on the couch, next to Lotte. Not too close, for he didn't know if she wanted to touch him after what he had just done. When she however cuddled up to him and laid her hand in his, he felt relieved. With questioning eyes, she looked up to him.
"Sack is back," he sighed. For a moment his fingers squeezed, but not in a way that it would hurt her. "But he can't remember anything."
"Jeez." A shocked expression crossed her face. "Other than that – is he okay? Healthy?"
Juice shrugged his shoulders. He hadn't paid any attention to it. The fact that he had returned without Dana, had been the only thing on his mind.
"He's had a rough time Juice," Lotte said softly. "You have been a little understanding, right? You know that horrible things happened to him."
"He doesn't remember them anyway," he grunted. Bowing back his head until it was leaning on the backrest, he stared at the ceiling. "He doesn't remember her. At least that's what he says." Slowly, the suspicion was gurgling underneath his skin again. "You think something like that exists? A way to erase someone's memory? What if he's faking it?"
"If it's exists, it's illegal. And if there's someone who knows his way around the underworld, it's Maddox."
Juice bent forward, staring at his hands. "What if he erased her memory too? If she doesn't know me anymore? If she forgets about all the things he has done to her?" He pressed his lips together and blinked fiercely. Those fucking tears.
"Would that really be that horrible?" she asked softly. "If she no longer remembers the rapes, if she can forget about seeing her daughter being murdered? If she no longer has to miss you?"
"But who are we without our memories, Lotte? We're no one. We might just as well be dead. I wouldn't want to lose them, no matter how horrible some things are. But not remembering her at all..." Quietly, he shook his head. "I'd rather wish she would die than being brainwashed."
He shut his eyes for a moment. Those words hurt. Nevertheless he caught himself wishing she was dead more and more often. He just wanted her suffering to be over. Especially now she had lost her only friend, he just wanted her to find peace.
Lotte turned a little, lying a hand on his back and slowly rubbing it up and down. "But you don't know if the damage is permanent. Maybe Sack's memories will return."
"I can't imagine," Juice huffed. "Half measures ain't his thing." He stared forward for a while, barely feeling Lotte's touch; he felt cold and numb.
The hope that had flared up when he had seen Sack, had been indescribable; the disappointment afterwards so enormous that something had died inside him.
"I wonder if it's real or that he's just pretending. I can see Maddox threatening him to hurt Cherry if he doesn't dance to his tune."
"I haven't seen him," she answered softly. "Did he look nervous? Was there a reason to assume that he was faking it?"
No – but it was much better than the alternative.
That Maddox really had the means to wipe someone's memory, and that he would do the same to Dana.