Chapter 10
Rhetta opened her eyes. The light was bright and it seared through her brain; the pain was the same as when she had put her hand on a hot oven unthinkingly. She closed her eyes quickly and didn't move. She realized she was lying on something soft. She sniffed the air hesitantly. She recognized the smell of her fabric softener and realized she was lying on her bed. She shifted slightly and realized that her pants and jacket were gone and she was covered only by her underclothes, her shirt and the heavy comforter.
Rhetta heard footsteps and Romeo's frantic whispers, "You got her drunk? What the hell? What the fuck? Who the fuck? You fucking idiot! Connor's going to kill us both! He said to go get her from work, not get her drunk!"
She heard Murphy's hissed reply of, "I didn' mean ta! And how the fuck was I supposed to know she was such a lightweight?"
Rhetta rolled onto her side, curling up under the comforter and wincing when her head began to pound. She did her best to fall asleep again.
But, instead of sleep, she heard a door slam and loud footsteps.
Connor's voice was controlled, if angry, "Mrs. Hanlon is furious."
"Wha', why," Murphy asked.
"According to her, lil' Ms. Librarian has never been drunk before."
Murphy scoffed, "She can' be that mad."
"Remember when Ma foun' out ye were fuckin that girl from school?"
"The one with tha legs or the one with tha mouth?"
"The one with tha legs."
Murphy's tone was much more respectful as he breathed, "Oh fuck." Then he said hurriedly, "It's no' my fault she can' handle her liquor."
Romeo put in hastily, "She's not pissed at me, right?"
"Nah, she's only pissed at me an' Murph." Connor suddenly shouted, "Why the fuck did ye give her any booze in the first place?"
"I thought it would help."
"For God's sake, she don' drink."
"Well, fuck me for trying ta help."
"No' a chance o' that, I've got standards, mate."
"Shut the fuck up Conn."
"Fuck off, Murph."
Romeo asked suddenly, "What are ya goin' to do about the people trying to kill her?"
Rhetta muffled a surprised, and rather frightened, squeak by biting the edge of her pillow. She began breathing hard and shut her eyes as tight as she could. She did her best to put aside her panic and instead focused on eavesdropping.
"I don' know exactly," Connor replied.
"We could kill 'em," Murphy put in.
"Great fuckin plan," Connor said sarcastically, "Yeah, that'll work. Macho Murph can go an' kill all the bad guys and make sure everyone's safe."
"Fuck you Connor!"
The loud crash startled her and she jumped. Rhetta found that she was suddenly tired of their conversation and worried about her possessions. She sat up slowly, blankets bunched around her waist.
Her apartment was in shambles.
Several windows had been smashed and the glass had been strewn all over the floor. The couch, coffee table, the armchairs and stools from the kitchen had been overturned; the couch's and armchairs' cushions had been ripped apart and the stuffing had been tossed all over the living room. The kitchen's cabinets had been raided. The plates, dishes, cups and glasses had all been smashed and the shards had been tossed all over the floor. Her closet had been thoroughly raided and her clothes, despite still being intact, had been tossed all over her bedroom. Her dresser drawers had been dumped out and the contents of her bathroom had been completely destroyed and scattered on her bedroom floor.
She heard Romeo hiss, "Shut the fuck up both of you, she's waking up."
Rhetta shut her eyes and moaned, "Ouch."
There was another crash, and Murphy yelped, "Fuckin' hell!"
The door opened, there was the sound of soft footsteps, then the bed dipped and Connor asked, "You feeling okay, lass?"
"Don't call me that," Rhetta muttered. She cringed sharply as the pain in her head got worse, "And no, I'm not okay. I want to die."
"No ye don', you're just hung-over."
Rhetta lifted her head and stared at Connor. His features were blurry and his voice seemed to be coming to her from miles away. She snarled firmly, "I want to die."
Murphy laughed, "Everyone says that."
Rhetta shook her head and muttered, "Go 'way. All of you."
She slipped out of bed and got to her feet, somewhat unsteadily. She felt the ends of her shirt brush her upper thighs and the backs of her buttocks. She cocked her head, voice slurring slightly as she asked, "Who undressed me?"
"Mrs. Hanlon," Murphy replied.
"Oh good," Rhetta replied. She found that she wasn't really bothered by her state of undress and instead asked, "Where are my dogs?"
"Those things aren't dogs. They're rats without long tails," Murphy muttered.
"They're wonderful," Rhetta corrected, "And I love them. And I like them more than I like you!" She winced as her head punished her for raising her voice and took a deep breath, "Now, where are they?"
Romeo disappeared into the kitchen as Murphy replied, "Mrs. Hanlon is watching them."
Rhetta sighed, "The poor things. They must have been so scared."
"Scared? Are ye fuckin' kiddin' me?" Connor pointed, "Look at that."
Rhetta turned her head, wincing as it began pounding more fiercely. She caught sight of a spatter of blood on the wall. She smiled broadly and said, "Aw, they do bite. How sweet."
Murphy suddenly spoke up, "Do ye think the bite was on the leg?'
"Most likely," Connor replied.
"Then we know what ta look for," Murphy said smugly.
Rhetta felt her stomach roll. She knew she was going to throw up. She got to her feet, ignoring the pounding in her head and dashed toward the bathroom, shoving past Murphy as she did. She fell to her knees besides the toilet. She barely managed to position herself before her stomach voided itself of its contents completely. She dry heaved several times before she was sure she had nothing left inside of her to bring up.
Rhetta pulled back a moment later, wiping her mouth as she reached up and gripped the handle to flush the toilet. She frowned and made a disgusted noise when she realized that some of the vomit had gotten in her hair. She got to her feet, still rather unsteadily, and bent over the sink. She turned the water on and flipped her hair so that the vomit covered strands were in the steady flow of water. She reached for the soap and rubbed it in her hair. When she was sure she had gotten the vomit out, she straightened and squeezed her hair, water dripping onto the floor.
As she headed back into the bedroom she noticed that there was a loud, impatient knock on the door. Rhetta walked through the living room and toward the door as quickly as she could without her head pounding uncontrollably. Behind her, she heard a sudden flurry of hushed conversation.
The knocking grew louder with every second she didn't open the door.
Rhetta nearly stepped on a piece of glass as she stopped and looked at Romeo, "What are you doing?"
The long haired Mexican turned and said, "It's the best hangover medicine around."
He held out one of the only intact cups in the house. Rhetta stared at it suspiciously. It was almost completely full of a thick red liquid. Rhetta took the cup, still staring at it. After a moment, she shrugged slightly and raised the glass to her lips. She drained it in one long gulp.
When she finished it, she set it on the counter, turned away and headed the door. She didn't bother checking to see who it was. She merely glanced at the door, saw that it was unlocked, gripped the handle and threw the door open.
Her eyes widened in horror and she gasped, "Mother!"
"Hello darling." There was a pause, then her mother asked, "Where are your clothes?"
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