"Perry…put him down." Four words in and I'm already Jordan's bitch once again. I turn to look at her.
Not Lacey with her mouth open and her eyes on me and this deep, sudden embarrassment of losing my cool in front of her and – PERRY. STOP. FOCUS. Temptation Skipper should be far away from your conscious, sub or not.
Jordan. Jordan with her perfectly buffed nails, her perfectly shaped hair, her perfectly vicious mouth… - Stop imagining Jordan's mouth. Stop.
"Jordan," I breathe, slam Derek to the ground, and stare at her.
She's tan, most likely from her frolic in the Hawaiian sun. She's tan and gorgeous, if you don't look too closely at her Botoxed eyes and the circles under them, so expertly covered with foundation and powder. She's tan and gorgeous and sleep-deprived, and here.
Why is she here?
Jordan folds her arms across her chest, glaring at me. "Thank you" she says in a clipped tone, nodding to Derek, who upon being dropped, fell back into his chair and practically landed in Lacey's lap. My temper flares when his hand falls on her left thigh but I try to ignore it and focus on Jordan.
"What. Are. You. Doing. Here." I grind out, transferring my question to Jordan. We are surrounded by people; doctors, nurses, family members in search of less-shitty coffee or something other than vending machine snacks, and yet all I can see is Jordan. There are tables, chairs, trays, food…and all I can see is Jordan.
A brief flicker of recognition crosses my mind as I wonder if Jack is near us, can hear us, or if Jack's even in the same building that we are, but it passes as anger at Jordan, more pointed now than ever before, starts to build quickly. "Jordan!" I bark, causing her and most everyone in the cafeteria to jump.
Good. I've scared her. But judging from my peripheral shot of Lacey, I've scared her as well.
Jordan rolls her eyes at me. "Come," she says, turning away from me, from Derek, from the gawking spectators. Her heels clack noisily away from me and I feel my feet move, slowly following her.
What the hell am I doing? Where am I going? God, I wish Carla and Barbie wouldn't give me that stupid pitiful look and – oh for the love of God, now Newbie's in on it? JD's eyes follow me out of the cafeteria.
I don't even look at Temptation Skipper.
I follow Jordan into the hallway, folding my arms across my chest and taking a wide stance.
I just have this feeling that things are going to get ugly.
Jordan turns, folding her arms across her chest and setting her mouth in a grim, firm line. I glare at her, waiting for her to speak. Jordan sighs.
"Perry, I…" she starts, faltering immediately.
I continue to glare.
"I…Fuck it. I'm sorry."
I continue to glare.
Jordan throws her arms down, letting them swing at her sides. "I don't know what you want me to say. I was unhappy, I was angry, and you…you…"
I continue to glare. Jordan's eyes narrow and her lips purse.
"Goddamit, Perry. Talk to me," she hisses.
I say nothing.
"This is ridiculous!"
"You took. My son," I grind out, never losing eye contact. Jordan keeps glaring at me.
"Yes," she answers, though I didn't give her a question.
"You took. My son." Jordan rolls her eyes.
"Yeah, this whole "High Noon at the O.K. Corral" thing we have going on here is great and all, but get to the point."
"The point is, you rabid bitch, that you took my son" I bite out harshly. Jordan doesn't even flinch.
"To Hawaii. Which is legally recognized as being a part of this country" she retorts, refolding her arms.
I am aware that a small gathering of imbeciles has gathered just outside of the cafeteria door to hear our conversation. I turn to them.
"OUT. NOW." I bellow. They scatter, clearly not expecting to be caught. I note with regret that Lacey's ponytail is the last one bobbing away. I force my eyes to snap back to Jordan. She sighes, steps towards me.
"Perry, I - " I hold up a hand, one arm across my chest.
"Don't. For once I get to walk away" I say before turning so sharply, the heel of my sneaker squeals in protest.
"Perry. Perry, wait. Perry, I'm talking to you!" Jordan yells, her voice fading then coming closer.
She's following me.
"Goddamnit, Perry. Stop. Listen to me!" I continue to ignore her, striding quickly for the main door of the hospital. I grasp at my pockets, looking for the emergency cigarette I keep there for the times when Jordan cheats, when Jordan leaves, when Jordan comes back, when Newbie gets on the last raw nerve I have left, when I desperately need some sanity in this circus of a medical building. I dig deep into my white coat, hoping, praying for one last cig and notice a small blur rushing towards me, just as I grasp the fat, crinkled nub.
Oh, sweet Jesus. She brought Jack.