Bang. Bang. Bang.
"Collins? Angel? It's Mimi, I—I need to come in, I really do, please open up, I'm—"
"Dear god, tell me that's not Mimi yelling at us to let her in," muttered Collins. Angel, who was lying on top of him, took her tongue away from Collins's jaw, bit her lip, and sighed.
"Yeah, it's Mimi. I gotta go let her in, baby, she sounds—"
"C'mon, Angel, she's fine, just stay," Collins said softly, kissing Angel's neck and collarbone. Angel probably would have stayed without any more urging if Mimi hadn't cried, "Angel, please, you gotta let me in, I'm not joking, this is serious!"
"Damn it, go and get her out of here as fast as you can," Collins grumbled as Angel reluctantly slid off of him. Pulling on a muscle shirt, Angel stumbled through the dark apartment, mentally cursing Mimi for interrupting what had started to become a very promising time with Collins. Reaching the door, she fumbled for the lock, faintly surprised to hear what sounded like scratching on the other side. Was Mimi that desperate to get in? Angel started to feel a little worried. She located the lock, twisted it and heard the satisfying clunk of the bolt sliding back. She grasped the doorknob and pulled, the door swinging open.
"Hey, Meems, busting in on someone in the middle of the night isn't really that cool a thing to—" Angel stopped in mid sentence and just stared at her best friend. Her mouth hung open, and she felt like she was looking at a horror movie version of the Mimi she knew.
Mimi's face covered in black bruises and scarlet cuts, some of which still dripped slow drops of crimson blood. Every other bare patch of skin that Angel could was injured and abused in the same way. Her clothes, especially the coat she used so much, were ripped and stained with what Angel hoped to god wasn't blood. One of her arms was bent at a strange angle, and her hair was wild and freakish, like something out of a Frankenstein show. A ring of dark bruise marks went around her neck like a hellish necklace. Worst of all, Mimi's eyes had the look of a crazed, injured wild animal. They weren't Mimi's eyes anymore: she had disappeared from the large brown orbs.
"Oh my god—oh my fucking god, what the—Mimi, oh my god." Angel was babbling, horrified. She only stopped when Mimi nearly collapsed into her arms. The Hispanic woman's knees buckled and she stumbled forward, falling into Angel's chest. Angel wrapped her arms around her friend's torso and prayed that her own legs wouldn't give way. Straining, she half-carried, half-dragged Mimi into the larger room known as the "living room". She laid Mimi down on the red sofa there, trying to be careful of her bent arm.
"Collins, get out here!" Angel cried, rushing the kitchen to get a glass of water for Mimi. As the water rushed into the cellophane cup, she heard a shout of surprise as Collins discovered Mimi on the couch. She rushed back in to find him hovering over Mimi, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt, practically wringing his hands. The eyes that turned to meet her were wide and frightened.
"Angel, what the fuck happened here?" Collins asked her, but she was already sitting beside Mimi, helping her friend drinking from the cup. Mimi gulped the water down through dry lips, spilling some onto her face, where dried blood turned it murky brown. Angel mopped her face with the bottom of her muscle shirt. It was like torture, to see Mimi like this.
"Angel…sorry to burst in on you like this," murmured Mimi, her eyes rolling back into her head. For a moment, Angel and Collins were afraid that she was lapsing into shock or something. But then her eyes blinked open again, and she seemed to struggle to stay awake.
"It…it was a private job," Mimi said softly, and Collins and Angel leaned in, both as scared as they had ever been before. "Extra tips and money…for a special dance alone. He was…a rich guy. Big hat…nice clothes." Angel grasped Mimi's hand and squeezed, trying not to pressure any particularly bad spots. Collins put a hand on Angel's shoulder unsteadily; he seemed completely unhinged by Mimi's appearance.
"There were like…a million bottles on the table. Loads, and he was laughing…really, really loud. So I started and he…he got…bad." Mimi shuddered and seemed about to black out, but Angel squeezed her hand and again and leaned in close.
"Mimi, chica, listen to me. Did this guy hurt you like this?" Angel was breathing heavily, her back tense. Slowly, Mimi nodded and whispered, "And there were other things…hurt like hell. He grabbed me and…and then I just stopped being me. It was bad, Angel. It…" Mimi really did lose conscious now, her eyelids falling shut and her head lolling to the side. Angel didn't move from her spot over Mimi until Collins gently pulled her back and hugged her close, just embracing her from behind. They stayed like that for moment, just absorbing that one of their best friends had been beaten up badly and probably raped in the process. Angel felt like her mind was swirling down a toilet: she just couldn't grasp it. Instead, he hung onto Collins's arms and took several deepbreaths, trying to calm down. Collins himself felt surreal: this was too horrible for him to completely comprehend.
Finally, Angel shook herself and pulled away from Collins. She took Mimi's hand and examined the cuts and bruises on it. Then, her voice steady but dull, said, "We've got to tell Roger and Mark and the girls, we can't just leave her here until morning. You go call the loft and Joanne's place. I'm gonna try ot clean her up a little." Collins, sensing that Angel was trying her hardest to keep calm, squeezed her arm and got up, moving over to the phone. Angel went into the kitchen and soaked a rag in cool water, her hands shaking under the faucet. Then she turned and went back to Mimi, where she sat beside her friend again. Angel started bathing her friend's face, trying to clean the cuts and dried blood. Mimi made a whimpering noise, like a baby, and shifted, her stranegly bent arm hanging off the couch.
"Baby, I called Mark and Roger and they're on the their way. Mo and Joanne are coming too." Angel nodded, and Collins crouched beside her as he watched her gently wipe Mimi's cheek. "She's gonna be okay, baby. We're gonna help her, and she gonna be okay." Collins touched Angel's arm, and Angel felt some small comfort in that. But the horror of that first glimpse of Mimi, that first thought of, Oh my fucking god, still sat solidly in her mind, like a block of cement.