Edward closes the door to the spare room and looks at me sadly. Jerking his head toward the garage, he drags me out behind him, shutting the door.
"How bad is it?" I don't want to know the answer; it's just going to piss me off.
Edward followed me and Jake back to my place, and once we talked, Jake agreed to show Edward everything … and to let him document it. My boyfriend, who I already consider a hero, looks shell-shocked.
"I've been a first class for several years. I've had females come to me with DV claims and reports. I've taken people to medical for injuries, Bella." He crouches down to the floor, almost as if he's going to vomit. "I've never seen that on one person before."
Something akin to unadulterated rage courses through me, but all I can do is clasp my hands onto his shoulders, digging my fingertips into the fabric of his shirt. I'm not a violent person; I never have been. I'd do anything for my friends, and right now, all I can think about is inflicting the same amount of pain onto Embry that he's caused Jake.
But I know I can't do that; I'm not physically capable, and it won't help Jake at all.
"What do we do?" I look down at Edward's ashen face. He clears his throat a couple times before reaching for one of my hands and standing back up.
"I have some people I can talk to. Jake also sent me all his screenshots, bank statements, basically all the proof he needs to make a case against Embry." Edward shakes his head. "I know it's not Jake's fault, but—"
"How did it get this far?" I ask, and Edward nods. "I don't know. But I'm scared, Edward."
Pulling me into his arms, he soothes me quietly. "I don't know what's going to happen, but I'll do whatever I can to help."
Not long after Edward finally leaves to make some phone calls and track a few people down, Jake emerges from the bedroom, clad in some of Edward's discarded clothes. I'm sitting on my couch, aimlessly flipping through the TV channels when he shuffles in. "Can we talk?"
"We can, but we don't have to." I lower the volume and turn to face Jake. He looks like he's about to face the firing squad. "You can come sit down or you can stand. Whatever is more comfortable."
He hesitates for more than a moment but eventually comes to sit next to me, wincing slightly as he does.
"Can I get you anything? Advil? An ice pack?"
"How about a short length of rope?" He smiles wryly, but I only roll my eyes. Jake and my friendship has always centered around dark humor, and while I'm thrilled to see he's still in there somewhere, this is not the time.
"Maybe once things settle down, I'll get you some arsenic." I poke him gently in the thigh where he can see my hand coming for him. He grabs me, holding on to me like a drowning man holds onto some passing driftwood.
"I like your place. Didn't Jasper live here for a little bit?"
If he doesn't want to talk after all, we don't have to. "He did. That room was his, and now it's my office. He left the futon that's in there."
Jake winces. "I'm taking your office."
"I only work from home one day a week; it's not a big deal." Sighing, I aim a bigger gun. "Although, we should talk about getting some of your things."
"I have some stuff in my trunk. Clothes, uniforms, absolute essentials." He takes a steadying breath. "I don't know what to do. What if Edward can't get anyone to help me?"
"Then it sucks. And you know it sucks, but you start over." He looks appalled, and I can't blame him, but what else are we supposed to do? "You could fight it. You could fight it and Embry for as long as it takes. I would support you. But we don't know what the Navy will do."
Jake's HIV diagnosis isn't a death sentence these days, but it's potentially the end of his naval career. He can get on a great medical regimen, but he will be taken off sea duty, and they'll need to find him a job somewhere else.
"I know; I've already heard about my options." Jake rolls his eyes. "Embry is taking the discharge."
"Separation?"
"Well, when you get medically discharged, it's like going on disability. So, he's getting paid out from the Navy." Jake explains, and the gears in my head are already turning.
"Did they offer it to you? The disability, I mean."
"Yeah."
"Is it the same amount as Embry's?" I might have an idea for how we can stick it to Embry and help Jake.
"No, he got offered a higher disability percentage than I did." His shoulders slump a little in defeat.
I wiggle my phone free from my pocket and text Edward this piece of information; if he's going to try to bring the hammer down on Embry, then let's make sure we bring it all the way down.
Bella, if that's true, then Embry's diagnosis might be worse than Jake's. And if that ends up being the case, does Jake know?
I'm not sure, and I don't know if I should bring it up with him right now.
I'm with my chief now. I'll talk this through and fill you in later. Take care of Jake.
I toss my phone onto the coffee table and focus back on Jake. "Why don't I order us some terrible food, and we can watch some shitty movies? It'll be just like high school."
"Yeah, except this time we won't be sneaking into your parents' liquor cabinet." He smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.
Chuckling softly, I lean my head on his shoulder. "That's because we're old enough to buy it now."
We sit together for a few minutes before Jake speaks in almost a whisper.
"Thank you."