Chapter Text
Sailey
"Have ya got any idea what time it is?" Hank growled through his pounding headache. It was twelve o'clock on a Saturday afternoon, a perfectly reasonable hour. He just wasn't aware of that, yet.
Sailey blinked once, then twice, as she gave the man standing in the open doorway a quick once-over. She thumbed the corner of the envelope awkwardly.
"I just wanted to—" Her words caught in her throat as he scowled. Hank swayed ever so slightly in place, straining against the frame for support. He let out a raspy grunt, covering his swollen eyes with his free hand.
Hank coughed, opting to peek down at her through a crack in his thick fingers. The scent of stale bourbon hit her nose like a freight train as she spied the tell-tale sign of a dried spillage on the front of his shirt.
Her nose wrinkled at the bridge. Immediately, Sailey concluded that her arrival had come at a very bad time, and the need to excuse herself was becoming more apparent by the second.
The woman felt bad for having disturbed him; If she had known, she wouldn't have even bothered. That was coupled with the fact that he was acting like a total asshole. Her free hand raised in a vague sort of placating gesture, as she extended the small letter still clutched in her grip.
"I—uh...sorry." It was taken from her in an instant, almost snatched. It made Sailey jump slightly.
She shifted nervously back onto the step behind her, subtly trying to give him as much space as possible. The man gave a sharp, groggy sniff, narrowing his gaze upon the text. Sailey tentatively continued.
"Our mail got mixed up. Thought I'd bring it over for ya, mister—uh—Hank?"
She carefully sounded out the name above the address, backing down another step. The man simply grunted, giving a lazy, displeased nod in confirmation of her assumption. Sailey's brows knitted together in the quietest of scoffs. She knew she'd made a mistake by coming over unannounced.
This had gone horribly, and she was quite sure—most certainly, in fact—that it wasn't her fault. The man in front of her was evidently a drunkard.
"Well. There ya go," Sailey huffed out, taking his blunt disinterest as her cue. She turned and began to hurry away down the yard, keeping her head low.
"Hold up—" His throaty call hit her ears, but she ignored it, picking up into a light jog back across the street.
Sailey didn't even spare him a look; she was far more determined to get back through that front door and chew into her best friend, who had encouraged her to bring over his mail. The invasive thought that Judy may have done it on purpose briefly crossed her mind. But Sailey quelled it in an instant.
The neighbourly thing to do, she had called it. Now, Sailey just felt embarrassed and nothing short of an inconvenience.
"Hey—!" Another, louder, clearer exclamation rang out from behind her, and she hopped up over the curb, hustling down the front yard, being cautious not to slip on the frost-painted concrete.
It would have been far too clumsy for her to stop now, or waste any more of his time. Sailey scurried up the opposite porch. She hit the deck and swung open the front door before disappearing inside. It slammed behind her with a force that told Hank all he needed to know.
He had fucked up.
The door frame rattled as Sailey stormed into the hallway, angrily fisting the zipper of her jacket down with a growled curse beneath her breath. Judy, having heard her close friend's hurried footsteps coming down the porch, followed by a loud crash, quickly made her way from the kitchen, passing through the arch.
She clutched a half-finished cup of coffee in both hands, an alarmed frown etched onto her features. Sailey held up a gloved finger as she tossed her coat messily up onto the rack, without care.
Judy opened her mouth to say something. But she was cut off no quicker than she had taken in a breath.
"Never let me make a mistake like that again."
"Huh—? Girl, what happened?"The ebony-haired woman was stunned by the sudden change in mood; moving to one side, allowing Sailey some space to pass through. "Did you manage to get the letter to him—?"
Sailey snorted as she powered past her and towards the fridge-freezer in the far corner of the kitchen.
"Yeah. I sure did," Britches, Judy's one-eyed tabby cat, flitted around the upset woman's feet, mewing nervously. Sailey continued, wrenching the door open. "Looked at me like I'd taken a shit on his lawn for my trouble, too."
She searched for the box of leftover pizza from the night before, clattering around the various bottles, jars, and groceries that lay in the drawers. She found the box and pulled it free, pushing the fridge shut with her left hip, heaving an irritated sigh.
She then tore it open and began tucking into the largest slice. It was obvious just how frustrated the fleeting encounter had made Sailey; just by looking at her, in those three minutes of her being gone. She had begun to stress eat again.
It was a bad habit she had been trying to kick for months. Judy fought a minute wince. She had left the house, calm for once and optimistic, a rare instance for Sailey Moore, Judy knew all too well.
"Why didn't you tell me he was an asshole?" Sailey questioned flatly, mouth full, as her friend slowly approached, face settling into a stern, yet apologetic look. She adjusted her grip on the handle, silver engagement ring gently clinking against the ceramic.
"I didn't know, amor. Just thought it might've been a good idea," She spied that Sailey had yet to remove her gloves and gave a short tut of disapproval, stepping forward to take the slice from Sailey's grip, chastising lightly.
"Watch the grease. You just washed those the other day."
Sailey grumbled, obliging; she tugged each one off roughly and slung them to one side on the marble countertop, next to Judy's vintage-style radio. Her hand lingered there, pressed down, flexed. She took a moment, sucking in a long breath, before holding it for a few uptight seconds, then she let it go shakily.
"Take your time. It's okay."Judy reassured, moving closer, sliding her back along the edge of the counter towards her friend, tentatively placing her cool fingertips over Sailey's knuckles.
Britches curled gracefully around Sailey's booted ankles, purring now, ignoring the wet coating of late-day slush at her soles.
Her small paws delicately stepped around to get as close as she could. Judy's cat had a distinct way of knowing things were amiss, or tense. Her owner spoke up again, carefully, as she handed the half-devoured slice back to Sailey.
"What happened?"
Sailey took it from her, picking out a chunk of pepperoni with her teeth. She chewed, brows creasing, as she looked down at the little cat beneath her.
She knew it would've been unfair to take it solely out on Judy. She felt the need to apologise for her tone. Truthfully, she knew it was the miserable man across the street who needed to be schooled.
"Sorry. It's not your fault, I shouldn't have said that."
Sailey raised her gaze, staring fixedly at the calendar, left open on the dining table, with a marker pen left uncapped beside it. A rushed smudge was streaked over Tuesday and Wednesday of the next week. Judy had been marking up the dates when she had busted her way back through the front door, startling her.
Sailey took another bite, crunching on the crust. A couple of flakes landed on the front of her shirt, and she brushed them off.
"He was drunk. Totally out of it."
Judy knew there was more. Much more. It was written all over Sailey's face. She had never done much to hide her feelings. The tightness in her jaw and her stiff, bunched back said it all.
"He acted like a total dick. Just snatched the letter clean outta' my hand and grunted like some sorta' caveman." Sailey saw the sliver of a smirk that cracked Judy's lips as she rattled off. Then she gestured comically, in the form of a disgruntled monkey, scratching its own armpits, grunting for effect.
Judy chuckled behind one hand, raised to her face. Sailey was relieved to have recovered from the tension that had encompassed the space just moments before. At least for Judy's sake.
She added, far more clearly.
"Y'know—who the fuck does that? Then, he had the nerve to holler out after me, when I decided—hey—I'm not gonna' put up with that kinda crap, ¡pendejo!"
Her tone now held a slightly performative outrage. Judy's demure giggles swiftly turned into a full-blown cackle at Sailey, having used her native tongue, aptly, too.
"You should have said that to his face!"
"Seriously," Sailey doubled down, flicking her hair back over one shoulder in finality. "Up yours!"
She stuck her right, balled fist out and back towards the window. She pointed it towards Hank's house and reeled up her middle finger through the fogged glass, swearing, as she blew a deflated raspberry.
The last bite of pizza was then swallowed whole. Judy shook her head at her friend's theatrics, still stifling a few chortles under her breath.
"You're something else, honey."
Then, she straightened up to lay a reassuring palm gently on Sailey's left shoulder, patting it lightly.
Judy knew it wasn't just an act. Sailey's temper was like a slow, burning fuse. It took time for it to catch, but once she was upset over something, there was no stopping it.
Then, there would come the crash. If it mattered to her enough, and it seemed as though this event did. She could get herself into some really deep episodes sometimes, and it could be difficult to pull herself back up. Sometimes it would take her a whole day or two in order to decompress.
Occasionally, Judy suspected that Sailey often indulged in her depressive periods just to gain a little rest, amidst her hectic life. Given her past, it made complete sense. Given the trauma, the relentless, prolonged stress that shaped her good friend's mannerisms over the years.
Judy secured her hold atop Sailey's shoulder, speaking up again, more slowly and gently this time.
"Are you sure he didn't say anything else to you?"
Sailey shook her head minimally, dusting off both palms with the soft series of claps.
"No, he didn't. Just--kinda'--glared at me, for the longest time. I didn't like that."
There had been something about the way the man had looked at her. It had made Sailey feel a strong sense of disquiet. It was all too familiar. As though he had seen her as nothing more than something in the way.
It bore a resemblance to the way her ex-boyfriend had looked at her, so many times, it had become a daily occurrence. Sailey recalled the way that Tyler had almost seemed to have taken pleasure in watching her shrink beneath his hard gaze. At the minuscule, barely perceptible glances in public and the raw sneer she would receive behind closed doors.
It had all started around a year into their relationship. Small instances, at first, spaced out. Every time, Sailey was just that little bit too outspoken, lively, or loud. Every time he felt as though she had shown him up or embarrassed him in any kind of way.
He had shot her a sharp, fleeting glare in the flash of a blink, when he thought nobody was looking. Tyler's ego had revealed itself to have been insurmountably fragile as their relationship progressed.
As things developed, he had become far more comfortable with showing his steadily increasing animosity. Push-back happened, and arguments started. It could have stemmed from anything. Something she had said, done, or even achieved.
Tyler had grown to resent Sailey simply for being herself. Exercising independence. For resisting his control. He had wanted her to be totally dependent on him. An accessory and nothing more.
He had desired her to be at his every beck and call, whenever it suited him. The art of manipulation and coercion was a horrid trait of his. They had carved a painful spot deep into her nervous system.
When a man looked at her in any way that resembled that scathing glare, Sailey felt sick to her stomach. Her fist clenched under Judy's hand, and her nails dug, pinching into skin.
Despite her being free of Tyler now, for just over a year, two entire states up and away from Tennessee, the looming dread still sat, heavy and suffocating. The feeling of discomfort from that man's judgmental stare had clung stubbornly around Sailey longer than she wished.
She couldn't quite understand why. She had been subject to stares like that before. So, why this one had been so unsettling, she couldn't put her finger on.
Sailey sighed, leaning her head back, staring up at the ceiling, eyes unfocused. Even something as little as a look, like that, was enough to rattle her. It had been a long, hard year. She was still so unstable.
The multitude of nightmares, palpitations, tears, and lost nights of sleep had been indicative enough. But, Sailey pushed herself up and away from the counter, snapping herself out of it as she stepped carefully over Britches, who was still trilling for attention.
She flashed Judy a reassuring, forced smile as she walked away.
"Ah, well. Better hope I don't run into him again. I'm gonna go take a bath. I need it."
"Okay," Judy replied with understanding, taking a tentative step forward, her left hand reaching out a fraction, as if to halt Sailey, for just a moment."But Sailey—?"
She paused halfway across the hall, now, at the foot of the staircase, keeping her head facing forward, a silent invitation to continue.
"Por favor, try not to let it eat you up. It could've just been one of his bad days," Judy let a short moment of thought carry through the air. "We all have those from time to time. You would know."
Sailey's grip on the bannister tightened with the softest creak, as she considered Judy's words, pensively.
"Uh-huh, maybe." She started quietly, if not a little briskly, before beginning her ascent.
She really needed that bath. Not just for the comforting warmth, or her tired muscles—she needed to wash it off. That look. That heavy, cold weight it brought. The feeling that clung to her like thick mud, slathering her skin.
Britches followed close behind. Hopping up each carpeted step, tail perched high, as Sailey turned and reached the landing, leaving Judy behind. She considered herself lucky that it happened to be her fortnightly weekend off from work. She had time to indulge.
Sailey stepped into the bathroom, lightly shooing the reluctant cat away, as she shut the door behind her, locking it. The faint smell of lime and mint filled the space from a small reed diffuser on the windowsill, and she slowly inhaled, rolling her stiff neck and shoulders back.
The night before had been a rough one, plagued by yet another nightmare.
She turned on the faucet, adjusting the temperature with a practiced hand. Steam began to rise, curling toward the ceiling as she fumbled with the hem of her oversized sweater. She took one deep breath in. Another out. Pulling the garment up and over her head.
The water filled the tub slowly, rhythmically—a soft gush that helped to dull the noise inside her head. Cold air hit her bare skin as she leaned forward to unclasp the hooks of her bra.
After she had shed her upper layers, she reached for the nearest bottle of bath soak, infused with sea minerals, pouring it into the running water.
Her reflection began to fog over in the mirror, and Sailey turned, peering closely. She looked exhausted—sunken bags rooted deep under her dark eyes. Hair flat and slightly frazzled at the temples from stress and sleeplessness.
She peeled off her boots and socks, placing them beside the sink. Then came her thick leggings. Sailey tugged the hem down over her old, stretch mark-laden hips and the fresh ones along her stomach. She had put on a lot of weight recently.
Shimmying out of them, she slipped the last item of clothing off, leaving herself bare. The only thing she wore now was her necklace—the Aries charm glinting faintly under the light.
A gift from Judy in the early years of their friendship. It had been eleven years now. She never took it off. It was hers, precious to Sailey's heart. The sign was a symbol of resilience, independence, and strength.
Something Tyler had never managed to take from her. No matter how hard he had tried. The tub was full by now. Laced with bubbles.
Sailey steadied herself as she stepped over the rim and slowly lowered one foot into the water with a slow wince and inward hiss. She drew it back immediately, having added just a bit too much hot water in her distracted state.
Britches scratched gently at the door—a persistent little ghost of comfort. It earned a knowing chuckle from Sailey.
"Shush, baby...I'm okay."
Her words fell from her lips in a whisper. Not quite the truth, but enough to reassure the insistent, furry presence on the other side of the door.
She heard a low, purring mew in response. The cat's footsteps pattered away. Satisfied. She hummed once in acknowledgement, twisting the cold tap to run for a short while.
Then, she tested the water once again, more carefully. It was a perfect temperature. Just short of boiling a lobster. Sailey sank into the steaming, foamy water with a contented groan, tilting her head back against the cool porcelain, and closed her eyes.
She inhaled deeply again, willing her body to relax; it took more effort than she cared to admit. The faucet slowly dripped into the water, and Sailey reached out.
Beneath the bubbles, she clasped a hand gently around her right wrist, letting it sit against her stomach. She felt something nasty tug, deep in the back of her mind.
Sailey recalled the ache. The way that same wrist, just over a year ago, had been painted with dark, angry bruises. Shaped like Tyler's fingerprints.
Her heart picked up a notch as she tried to settle down against the porcelain tub, adjusting both legs. The hot water gradually seeped into her skin, soothing with a gentle warmth. Easing her tired muscles and stiff joints.
But it did nothing to wash away the low, welling ache coming from deep within her chest. The aries charm sat neatly, just above her breasts, thrumming ever so slightly against her wet skin.
Her memory dredged up the image of the raw scratch marks that had marred her collar. From where he had tried to take it from her.
She cupped her palms and quickly splashed her face when she felt her stomach twist. Being alone with her mind hadn't gotten any easier.
"You're safe," Sailey whispered the words, squeezing her eyes shut just a little tighter, as she dragged trembling fingers through her hair. She pulled it back from her face.
The water lapped gently around her shoulders, but the warmth felt distant now. She focused on breathing. In and out. Slow and steady.
"You’re fine..."
She murmured to herself. Britches had stopped pawing at the bathroom door. Those memories didn't care for time passed or distance made. They slipped in like shadows through cracks, silent, clawing. At night, when she couldn't sleep, Sailey could still hear his voice, sometimes.
When the house was quiet, and the streets were left empty. Every other person in the neighbourhood had been tucked up in bed. His voice would speak: low and cutting, wrapped in venom.
"You think you're too good for me?"
"No one else will put up with you the way I do."
"You owe me for putting up with all of your shit."
Sailey shivered despite the heat of the bath and reached for the loofah on the side of the tub. She added some gel, hurriedly, before raking the netting across her skin, just that little too hard and slow. It caused a dull sting, and she grimaced. It was something, just anything, to quell her infernal mind.
Sailey kept scrubbing roughly. Biting through the mild discomfort as she scraped herself over in the tub. It was working, very slowly. The act aided her in snapping out of it. Halting the spiral.
"You made it."
She spoke, quick and hushed. A final affirmation, this time, with conviction.