FicWad

18. Joe

I scrolled through the list of names until I reached M and paused with my finger on the 'call' button. I stared at the screen until the light went out, then flipped it closed again for the hundredth time. I needed to talk to her. We needed to sort this out, one way or another. But I couldn't bring myself to press the button. I was afraid of what she might say. Afraid that she would break my heart with a few loaded words.

I ran my hands through my hair in frustration, a choked growl escaping me as my emotions fought each other for a way forward.

"Joe, seriously man. Call her," Patrick glanced up from his laptop and repeated the phrase he had said the last ten times I had slammed my phone closed.

"Yeah, Trick, heard you last time," I snapped back, throwing him a warning glance.

"Just sayin'," he held his hands up defensively "this all seems like a whole lot of trouble over nothing."

"God, just stay out of it," I jumped angrily from the couch and stormed out of the room.

I was sick and tired of hearing this. Everyone had an opinion, everyone wanted to stick their noses in.

Well, they could pry all they wanted. I wasn't the one who needed to apologise.



"She looked a mess, Joe. Why don't you just talk to her," Pete offered, his usual cockiness gone as he awaited my reaction.

He had just come back from Angie's and had tentatively broached the subject of Megan. It had been three days since we fought and I was still no closer to answering the questions that raced through my head.

I sighed heavily, taking a deep breath to control the rising annoyance.

"Look, man. You don't know what happened, you don't know the full story, so just butt out." It took all my reserves to keep my voice even.

"Well, whatever it was, I wish it would blow over. Angie is like a crazed woman about the whole deal. Her and Megan had a huge fight about it," he shook his head wearily.

"Angie and Megan are fighting?" I asked, confused.

His eyebrows furrowed. "Yeah," he nodded slowly "Angie won't tell me what about, just said Megan needed to take a look at her own morals before she went judging other people," he concluded with a shrug.

I gave a knowing snort. "Sounds about right," I muttered, causing further confused stares from Pete.

"Look, man, you all either need to stop with the cryptic message passing or tell me what the hell is going on," he threw up his hands in frustration. "Megan barely even acknowledged me tonight. Just muttered something about you jumping to conclusions."

I gave another snort.

"Oh, I only caught her about to have sex with some guy for money, but I'm the one jumping to conclusions," I stated, incredulous.

"What?" Pete choked out. "Megan? A prostitute? That's crazy," he shook his head slowly at me, looking at me as if I was crazy.

"Yeah, well, I know what I saw," I looked at him defiantly.

"What, Joe? What the hell could you possibly see that could make you think your girlfriend is a hooker?" he challenged.

So I told him.

"Not much to mistake in that," I finished with a sigh.

"Seriously, dude? You seriously think she was knowingly going to have sex with him when he had her pinned to a couch?" That crazy look was back again.

I paused for a moment, considering.

I had to admit, when I first went in, I thought she was struggling with him.

But if that was the case, why the hell did she go in there in the first place?



"Happy Hanukah, Joseph," my grandmother greeted me by gripping my face and placing a wet kiss on my cheek.

"Happy Hanukah, Bubbe," I hugged her in return.

She glanced curiously behind me.

"Where is Megan?" she questioned me.

"Uh, we had a fight. She's not coming," I dropped my eyes away from her menacing stare.

"Ah, what did you do?" she threw her hands in the air in frustration.

"I, it wasn't... I never," I stumbled over my words as her disapproval became evident.

She tutted and started to walk away from me, hurrying into the kitchen to announce to my parents that I had done something dreadful to Megan.

I slowly followed her. Towards the inquisition.


"And that's what happened? And that's why you're fighting?" my mother's eyebrows were raised so high, they were almost meeting her hairline.

I had told her a slightly watered down version of events, once my Grandmother was out of earshot. One that didn't involve me ending up in court charged with assault. Funny thing was, I hadn't even thought once about that. I could end up in jail because of her, yet she was all I could think about.

"Yeah," I nodded slowly, unsure of what her reaction would be.

There was silence from the other side of the kitchen.

"And have you asked her? Have you asked her why she was in there?" she questioned me in that reasoned tone that only mother's have developed.

It made me squirm.

"Well, I tried to, and she threw me out," I mumbled, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Did you give her a chance to explain, Joseph?" Oh, God, she was using my full name. This was serious.

"I, uh.." I continued my close scrutiny of the floor near my feet.

"So that means no. Which means you are jumping to conclusions," she stated matter-of-factly.

"I do know what I saw," I defended.

"Seems to me you don't, son," she moved towards me, placing a hand under my chin and forcing me to look at her. "It seems to me you didn't ask the girl you love if someone was trying to hurt her. You just assumed she was at fault."

I stared into her eyes. God, what if that was true?

My mind flashed back to the conversation I had had with Carlos right before we burst in there.

And I suddenly realised what an idiot I was.



I must have jumped three red lights in my haste to get to her. Her apartment was twenty minutes away, but I made it there in ten.

I took the stairs three at a time, arriving at her door panting and gasping for breath as I pounded furiously on it.

An irate Angie pulled it open a matter of minutes later.

I pushed past her and into the hallway.

"Where is she?" I demanded, already heading for her bedroom.

"She's gone," Angie replied quietly.

"Gone? Gone where?" I threw back over my shoulder as I pushed her bedroom door open.

I stopped in my tracks. The room was bare.

Panic stricken, I surveyed the room as Angie arrived at my shoulder.

"Her father came. He was furious, Joe," I turned to her, taking in her puffy red eyes.

"What did he do to her?" I asked her urgently.

"I don't know. But yesterday she was crying and she told me he was making her go away. Away from you," she paused as a sob escaped her lips. "He came back last night and they took all her stuff, and just went."

I felt a wave of nausea hit me. I was too late. She had left. And she hadn't even tried to tell me.

"Joe, I think he's going to make her get rid of the baby," she bit on her lip to stop her tears.

I reeled in shock as her words hit me.

"Baby? What baby?" I gripped at the doorframe to keep me upright.

Angie's face registered shock. "Oh, shit. She didn't tell you."

No, she didn't tell me. I was beyond knowing what that even meant anymore.