“I’m sorry,” Ricky whispered. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
Ricky’s shoulders started to shake again as she cried. The woman never cried so hard as when she was crying for herself. She was docile for the moment, but there was no telling how long that would last. Andrea put a firm hand on Ricky’s shoulder. She was about to escort her outside, but then she noticed a splatter of dark liquid across the dirty dishes in the sink.
Andrea’s first thought was that it was dishwashing liquid, but then she noticed the partially dissolved pills streaking through the black like constellations.
Ricky coughed again. Bile dribbled from her lips, ran down her shirt. Her eyelids were fluttering. She was swaying on her feet.
Andrea’s head swiveled toward the red pill bottles on the counter.
The Valium. The pain meds.
All three bottles were empty.
The gurgle from Ricky’s throat was eerily similar to the one Nardo had made at the diner. She started to collapse. Andrea grabbed her around the waist. Instead of guiding her to the floor, Andrea gripped her left fist in her right hand and drove both hard into Ricky’s abdomen.
“No—” Ricky heaved into the sink. Melted pills and chunks of undigested food splattered onto the dishes. “Please—”
Andrea gave her another quick upward thrust. Then again. Then again, until Ricky spewed a stream of vomit onto the floor. The orange and yellow pills formed a nauseating rainbow across the linoleum. Andrea put all of her strength into another vicious thrust.
Ricky gagged so hard that her body convulsed. She kept gagging, convulsing over and over until nothing more would come out. All she could do was start crying again, wailing like a lost child.
“Why?” she begged. “Why didn’t you let me go?”
“Because,” Andrea said. “You didn’t earn it.”