It was full morning before we were done at the police station. I was dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt of James'. We had both been buck naked while all of this went on. I grabbed the sheet and covered myself the minute they disarmed me. When we were allowed to leave the police station, I immediately called Heidi, my mother and the McDowells. I didn't want them to hear it on the news.
We went to Heidi's house. I don't know why, it just seemed like the right place to go. Heidi folded me up in a blanket, forced me onto the sofa in the den and made me drink sugared tea. She tried to do the same with James, but Bruce extracted James from her grasp and succeeded in making him sit down. James put his arm around me and, bundled in my blanket, I leaned into him the best I could, while I tried to untangle myself.
Then James' brothers arrived. Not long after, his parents showed up. Heidi had coffee and tea for everyone to hold. No one drank it, but they looked glad to have something in their hands. Bruce unlocked the bar and the whiskey was more readily accepted. Even Mrs. McDowell had a tot in her tea.
Once everyone had assured themselves everyone else was ok, people started to trickle out. I had been quite worried about Mrs. McDowell who looked grayish until she got her whiskey down, then her color returned. Heidi and James both smothered me with care. The brothers were the first to depart, seeing everything was well in hand. Eventually I was alone with James.
I started shivering as it dawned on me: I had almost shot a man, the trigger had moved. It didn't matter it was low-life Justin, a woman beater and scum. He didn't deserve to be shot and I had almost done it. James pulled the blanket over us and held me tight.
"James, I almost shot him." I was sick inside.
"Honey, situations like that go through you, yanking every single switch in your head. You were feeling survival instincts."
I clutched him closer. "The trigger moved. I was so close."
"But you didn't."
"Oh Jesus, I would have, if you hadn't stopped me."
"You don't know that. And you didn't do it. You knew you shouldn't. Some people would figure 'He hurt me, he deserves to hurt too,' and would have shot him without thought; you didn't, even though all those hormones were pumping through you and he had really hurt you in the past. A dislocated shoulder... It's a good thing you had the gun, not me."
"Really? You would have shot him?"
"Maybe. It would have been awfully hard to back down, like you did." James hugged me tighter. "The important thing is no one got hurt."
I giggled unsteadily. "Justin is going to be hurting once those painkillers wear off. How hard did you hit him?"
"As hard as I fucking could. He had a goddamn gun."
This made me laugh harder. Then my laughter turned into crying.
***
James went home to take care of the broken glass and clean up after the police, and I went back to my place. After a long hot shower, I sat in the living room with some tea. I was startled by a knock on my door. James didn't bother to knock, he had his own keys, who could be here?
I answered the door and to my surprise I found Doug standing there.
I stepped back and invited him in, gestured him to the sofa. I offered him something to drink, then sat down opposite him when he politely declined. He seemed to be struggling with something. I waited.