Broken chairs, overturned tables, shattered glass littering the floor, blood and whiskey spilled. “My God,” she uttered. “What happened in here?” Her eyes flickered our way as Adam straightened and helped me to my feet. “J.T. O’Brien is what happened here, Helena. He showed up drunk.” Understanding seemed to dawn on Helena; she shook her head and sighed. “Are you two OK?” she asked quietly. Before we could answer, the café door swung wide. Nate had returned from dropping J.T. off at Max’s house. So after we were seated, the three of us took turns giving Helena a detailed account of the events that had transpired in her absence. I filled in the blanks in the timeline, explaining what had happened from the time Trina and Helena had left up until Adam and Nate’s well-timed arrival to the café. I didn’t miss the number of times Adam shifted irritably, blue eyes flashing in ire, as he listened to the vivid details of J.T.’s unprovoked attack. When the story was finished, Helena pulled me into a tight hug.
