by Adler
“I’m sorry, Danielle, I can’t reschedule. We really need to get this taken care of. It should only take a half hour, tops. Just wear something simple. You always look beautiful. I have to go. I’ll be over a little before the reporters are due to arrive. Meet me downstairs in the lobby.
“Fine, I’ll see you then. I love you.” Much to my discomfort, I guess we are meeting the press.
“I love you too.”
I look around for signs of Albert. I need this run more than anything to work off some major stress and anxiety.
Noise is coming from the media room, and I would be willing to bet that Albert found the remote and is making good use of it. I walk in the room and sure enough, Albert is sitting there with his legs up on the ottoman enjoying some kind of morning talk show. I just have to smile. He hadn’t noticed my entrance, so I clear my throat and he jumps up out of his seat, dropping the remote.
“Madame, pardon moi!”
I have to giggle at the sight of the lumbering giant jumping as if he just got caught sneaking a cookie.
“Good morning, Albert. I am ready to go for a run, and I am under strict orders to have you with me at all times.” He nods as he turns the TV off.
As we are walking to the elevator, “I thought we could change things up and go to a park today.”
He nods at me, but I can see by the look registering on his face that he would rather get a tooth pulled. Heading out to the car, I toss the keys to Albert and tuck my phone into my pocket. As we head out of the parking garage, I take a deep breath. I always forget to breathe. We leave the garage and see swarms of media, still waiting for a story. I can’t understand why they are so interested in us. So we eloped, it’s not as if that’s news worthy. I instruct Albert how to get to the park by taking neighborhood streets, hoping that if anyone was following, we would be able to shake them. Within a matter of minutes, we reach our destination. I get out of the car, looking forward to a long run, and the release that comes with it.
Chapter Nine
I hear Bradley’s voice, as I slowly open my eyes and look around. I can’t figure out where I am. I strain to understand what Bradley is saying. It sounds like he is mumbling, and my head is simply throbbing. Where the hell am I?
“Dani, I never meant to hurt you this way! You have to believe me.” I feel so loopy; I hardly recognize his face because my vision is blurred. My eyes just can’t seem to focus. I can only make out shapes. Fuzzy ones at that. I turn to see the outline of something like a monitor on a cart. Straight ahead on the wall is what I think may be a television. I try to move my head, but it won’t budge. I can’t feel my legs or anything but my throbbing head, for that matter. My heart starts to pound, as I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. All fades to dark again.
He is gaining on me. I can hear his footsteps getting closer, as I pick up my own speed. He is keeping pace with me. I don’t know that he is actually following me. I just have a bad feeling. His steps sound a little fainter, so I think I might have gained some distance between us. I keep pushing forward increasing my speed even more.
I have been running this path in Forest Park for years and have never felt this sense of foreboding before. I never stray off the path and there are always other joggers or bicyclists around. Not today though. I am practically isolated because I opted for a more scenic wooded path, and now I am afraid that was a horrible, possibly fatal decision. I can feel in my bones that something isn’t right here.
I don’t have time to give this much thought. I know a shortcut that will take me back to the main paths that are more populated. I quickly make the decision and step off the path, heading into a small level grove of trees. I look back over my shoulder again to see if I am still being followed and gauge how far back my pursuer is. He is for sure following me and is just about 40 feet away, dressed in a black tracksuit. He has the jacket zipped up with the hood up around his head. I can’t make out his face. I feel stricken with fear. Every nerve in my body is at attention, as I feel the adrenalin kick in. I feel like a gazelle, being hunted by a hungry lion.
I realize now that I should have taken my run where Albert could have followed me in the car, as usual. I glance back over my shoulder again, as the flow of adrenalin boosts my speed. He is even closer now, I start to panic and shriek HELP, HELP, HELP!!! Just as I turn my head forward, I slam head-on into a tree. I gasp for air, as the wind is knocked out of me from the impact. I stumble backwards, feeling my body slump to the ground as my legs collapse out from underneath me. I feel my head collide with something hard. Just before everything goes black, I think about how Harrison is going to scold me for letting Albert stay in the parking lot.
Four weeks later…
“Here, Mrs. Towers, it’s time for your medication.” My eyes shoot open as I awaken to an unfamiliar voice. I look up to see a middle-aged woman who, if I were to guess, is around fifty-eight. She has a pleasant round face and soft fading-to-gray blonde hair. She reminds me of Meryl Streep. She looks down at me from beside the bed and introduces herself to me as nurse Glenda Barnes. She instructs me to call her Glenda. She is replacing the last private nurse who has been reassigned to another patient. I try to speak, but my throat is so dry that nothing comes out. I struggle to adjust myself, as she rushes to place the meds cup and glass of water on the bedside table.
“Now, now, let me help you with that. Don’t strain yourself.” She says, while she skillfully puts her hands under my armpits and helps me to a sitting position. After she is done fluffing the pillows behind me, she turns back to the table and hands me the medication and glass of water. I throw back the nasty pills, practically choking, washing them down with the cool quenching water. “There’s a good girl. Now, Mrs. Towers, what can I bring you for lunch?”
Gah!! Mrs. Towers…Mrs. Towers, I love how that sounds. I won’t ever get tired of hearing that as long as I live. I don’t even correct her and ask her to call me Danielle. No, I like the way the words, “Mrs. Towers” fill the room with happiness. I smile up at her and ask for some soup and crackers. My stomach has a hard time digesting the medication. I haven’t been able to keep much down lately. I feel like skin and bones and so very weakened.
“Glenda?” She turns back to me just as she is about to leave the room.
“Yes, Mrs. Towers?”
“My husband, is he here?”
She frowns, looks over her shoulder out into the hallway and then looks back at me. I have only just met her, but she seems nervous to me.
“I am not sure; would you like me to ask about that?”
“Actually, maybe you could just bring me my phone? I see it’s not on the table.”Again, she looks nervous. Actually, now that I think about it, I haven’t actually seen my phone since the morning of my attack.
“Uh, I only got here this morning. I will ask the French man in the kitchen, Philippe, is it?” I nod.
“Thank you and I hate to be a pain, but could you bring me the crackers soon? My stomach is already in knots, and the medication is making it worse.”
She smiles, “Of course, I will bring you some right away.”
Once she has left the room and I am alone, I glance around my surroundings. I’ve haven’t had a chance to get settled in here. We were back for less than 24 hours from our honeymoon when I wound up in the hospital. I have been in and out of consciousness for a few weeks now. Some of the medications they are giving me are heavy narcotics. In my opinion, the side effect is that I am rarely completely lucid. I spent almost three weeks in the hospital, and of that, I was in an induced coma for the first ten days. Initially, I had significant swelling in my brain, so they had to keep me heavily sedated to decrease the swelling. I suffered a significant concussion that resulted in my having a series of seizures before they were able to stabilize me. They had to operate to reduce the swelling in my brain, so there’s a large patch of my hair missing. I know I should not be so vain, but I do worry about how that is going to look when I am up among people agai
n.
I have no recollection of the first two weeks that I was in the hospital. Everything that I know about the last few weeks, have been told to me. My parents have been staying at one of Harrison’s hotels downtown, and they have an employee watching Stormy and the gallery. My dad and Harrison have bonded. Harrison has told them everything. I mean absolutely everything about the frequent unknown calls, the condo break ins, and especially Marion.
I have three fractured ribs, a broken nose, my face is scratched and bruised, and to make matters worse, I have torn ligaments in my knee. I am told that a few of the surface contusions and broken nose were from my running into the tree. The rest of my injuries were from the man in the black tracksuit who had been chasing me. At least, that is what the police think, based on what the eyewitnesses have told them. The doctors have confirmed that is the case, based on the nature of my injuries.
The attacker basically kicked me to a pulp and then ran off into the woods. I am lucky that someone heard my blood-curdling scream when I collided with the tree, just as the air was knocked out of me. Had I not screamed prior to my blacking out, I would have most certainly been left for dead. My attacker made good use of the few moments he had and inflicted all that damage on me. If he had been given any more time, I would not be here. Every time I go to sleep, I relive it in my nightmares.
Apparently, I owe my rescue to a group of young women jogging on the path toward which I was heading. They heard my screams and instead of ignoring them, as many people would, they called 911 and came to my aid. My guardian angel was clearly on duty that day.
I have been home from the hospital for a few days now. Harrison has been on a rampage for over three weeks now. I was right, he is mad that Albert stayed in the car and didn’t jog with me that day. He told me that I don’t make good decisions. Harrison fired Albert, but when I regained consciousness, I insisted that he hire him back. It was not Albert’s fault. How could any of us have known that I was going to be attacked in broad daylight in a public place? Harrison has every right to be upset, but Albert is not the one on whom he should take out that anger.
Harrison spent every night in my hospital room, by my side. I am sure he was horribly sleep deprived, as there is no way he could have gotten any sleep on that hospital pull-out bed. He has been irrational also. My mom told me that one day, when she was visiting, Harrison almost beat up an orderly in the hospital who looked at me the wrong way. Simone visits me often and has been keeping me updated on the details of the outside world and the budding romance between her and Garrin. I called that one. I knew they were attracted to each other.
Because those nightmares are present every time I go to sleep, I am horribly fatigued and not making the progress that I need to in physical therapy. The medication puts me in such a deep sleep that the nightmares are more real than reality itself. I dread going to sleep because I know the nightmares are waiting for me as soon as I shut my eyes. The dreams are always the same. The dark shrouded figure chasing me. It’s not always in the woods, though. Sometimes it is down long corridors like those that you see in enormous office buildings. The walls are stark white with matching gleaming floors. I am running, but when I look to see who is chasing me, the figure disappears. I know there is symbolism there and if I went to see a shrink, he would likely tell me the figure stands for someone or something in my life that is causing me anxiety and stress. I would say, yeah, no kidding! I have been in a constant stress mode ever since the stalking began.
The doctors are weaning me off the medication, and I should be fully off the painkillers by the end of the week. I am relieved because I am not fond of feeling as if I am in a constant stupor. Maybe, I will get better sleep once I am off the meds also. I can only hope.
The police have no solid leads on my attacker; however, someone did see a black SUV tearing out of the parking lot about the same time or shortly after my attack. They got a partial license number but not enough to narrow down a suspect. Detective Burke tells us that they are closing in, though. He can’t tell us too much anyway, and he is likely telling us that so we don’t go ballistic on him. Harrison told Detective Burke about Marion and showed him the text message from her the morning of the attack. He also told the detective about the high possibility that she is the one who is bank rolling the thug who broke into my condo the first time. The Detective seemed elated to receive that information, but was miffed at Harrison that he had not been straightforward about his suspicions sooner. He told Harrison that it may have sped things along, and that I may have never been attacked, had he said something sooner.
The Detective’s thoughtless comments really cut through Harrison, especially since he has been carrying around the burden of guilt about Adelaide for all these years. Now, he feels it is all his fault that I was attacked. I am so banged up and that is eating him up the most.
Since I have been home from the hospital, Harrison has been sleeping in a portable bed in the room with me. My body is still so damaged that he is afraid to be in the same bed with me. He is concerned about inflicting any further pain on me during sleep. Our sex life is totally non-existent, and who knows when we will be able to resume our activities. He acts as if I am a delicate china doll and as such, he will hardly kiss me, let alone touch me in any way.
Despite all the pain I am enduring, I find myself thinking of Harrison and how he makes my body feel. I feel alive when I am having sex with him. Better than alive! I feel like the most desired woman in the world the way he worships my body and gives me pleasure. He feeds me emotionally. I never feel starved for affection or adoration. He gives me all the things that I was deprived of and so desperately craved in my previous marriage. I miss the intimacy of his hands and mouth on my body, exploring every surface and crevice. Not to mention, his body blows my mind. I marvel at it each and every time he is naked. I feel my loins burning an inferno through the bed sheets, as I think of my husband naked. Oh, I must be getting better, if through this pain I can think of all the places, positions, and body parts that I want to experience and explore with my new husband. I love those words, “my husband”.
I am interrupted in the middle of my random, disjointed thoughts.
“Here we are Mrs. Towers. I have your soup and crackers here. I am sorry I didn’t hurry back with the crackers. It took me some time to find your phone. I had to ask around. You have quite the staff here, but nobody knew about your phone.” She shakes her head, as she places the tray of steaming soup across my lap.
I glance down and see a phone on the tray, but it is not mine. I look back at the nurse.
I’m confused, “This is not my phone. Where did this come from?”
“I don’t have the slightest idea. This phone was finally given to me by one of the men out by the elevator. As I was passing back through with your tray, he laid it on the tray for me, since my hands were full.” She gives me a side-glance.
I don’t think I trust this woman. Her responses to me are fine, but her body language is odd. I pick up the phone and swipe my finger across the screen. I see a little envelope in a circle. I touch it. A message window pops open and there is a text from Harrison.
11:47 AM
Your Husband
Mi Amore. I got you a new phone. I switched you to a new network under Towers Holdings. Do not give your number out to anyone other than who I programmed in the phone.
Wow, ok. I wonder whom he deemed worthy of making addition to my address book. This is a new brand of phone for me, so it takes me a minute to locate my contacts. I scroll through and note that just a few of my usual personal contacts are present. I notice one in particular that is missing: Bradley. I smirk to myself, knowing full well why that contact is missing. It looks like I will need to enter all of my business contacts. I’ll have to do that another day.
I go back to messaging and reply to Harrison.
12:24 PM
Mrs. Towers
Thank you for the new phone. Why did you replace my old one?”
12:25 PM
Your Husband
Mrs. Towers. We can discuss that later. I am glad you are awake. How are you feeling?
Oh no, he doesn’t! I am not letting him skate around my question. No way!
12:25 PM
Mrs. Towers
Mr. Towers. I would appreciate a straightforward answer. Why did you get me a new phone? I feel weak and nauseated. I took my meds so will be passing out right after I eat some soup.
12:26 PM
Your Husband
Mrs. Towers. I will discuss your phone later. I miss you.
Aaack! He is so exasperating. I type my message as fast as my fingers can fly across the touch screen.
12:26 PM
Mrs. Towers
Now. Tell me now!
No response. I get zero response from him. What the hell? I wait a couple minutes.
12:28 PM
Mrs. Towers
Damn it. Tell me. Now I am upset!
12:28 PM
Your Husband
Your phone was stolen the day you were attacked.
Oh. I feel like I just swallowed a lead weight.
12:28 PM
Mrs. Towers
You mean it has been gone all this time? Why didn’t you tell me?
12:29 PM
Your Husband
We have enough to worry about. Your phone was hardly at the top of the list.
I begin to write back a snappy response, but I stop myself. What am I doing? I shouldn’t attack Harrison. He is just protecting me. As always. The temples of my forehead are pulsing and my stomach is sour from the meds. I quickly write a response, so I can choke down some food.
12:29 PM
Mrs. Towers
I understand. I am just so frustrated. I just want to be back on our honeymoon Harrison.
