The doorbell rings about half past eleven, and I peer into the greyscale intercom screen. It’s Vic, still in her work clothes. “Can I come up?”
I still feel sick and stained from what I did with Alex earlier, my eyes are sore and dry, and the pain in my lower leg, which I have to hold doubled-back against my thigh to keep from screaming, is preventing sleep. “I’m really tired, Vic.”
“I won’t keep you long, I just…I need to talk to you about what happened earlier.”
No beating around the bush then. “Look, I’m really sorry, Vic. It—”
“Please let me up, Mack.”
I give in and hit the key button on the intercom, then hear her coming up the stairs as I hop over to the couch. It takes some time to carefully get myself into the least painful position I can find. “I’ve pulled a muscle in my leg,
