by Tia Lewis
But, I suppose, in the end, Nick didn't want to make it work, as he didn't listen to my begging for him to change. He either mocked me for wanting to change him, or downright refused, and even punished me, for even bringing it up.
So, enough was enough and nearly a year ago, I filled for a divorce. I took what money I could and was supported by my parents. I even looked for a part-time job, thought about returning to college and asked for alimony before getting myself set up to start a new life without him.
At first, Nick was shocked. But eventually, he seemed to have relented in regards to that, and that first few weeks after the divorce was finalized, I thought I was finally free to re-do my life and pick it back up.
But then came Nick's guilt trips, and the implied threats, and even the stalking.
It was subtle at first. Nick would talk me into coming back to the house that was supposed to be ours. He would then talk me into staying and having sex with him, and at first in my naivety, I thought maybe this was Nick finally coming to terms with what he had lost and attempting to fix things and return to the man I did love at one point.
But then, just as soon as I gave him what he wanted, it was back to the same old bullshit. The same old ignoring. The same old being tossed aside for something else.
But, that wasn't the end of it. Whenever I refused to come over, or made plans that did not involve him, Nick would attempt to know where I was, or exert that same control over me he used to have. He'd ask who I was with, where I'd be going, and all of that. And if I didn't give him a straight answer he'd would send his goons in after me. Goons he knew who were at his beck and call to follow me and give him information on my whereabouts. If I attempted to talk to other men, he'd want to know all about them. He'd often claim that it was for my own protection, but I knew better.
I sighed still as I looked back at the mirror in thought once more, at having fallen into the same trap as I did before. Tonight I was supposed to be going with my friends, Maria and Theresa out for some fun. But Nick called to talk about the alimony he wanted to neglect to pay for this month, and instead talked me, once more, into bed with him. I fell for that sense of lost love again, thinking maybe if we had a bit of passion between us, he'd relent and admit to how much of a fool he is.
Nope. Instead, he came, and now he wanted me to stay here in this house. With him.
Even though I brought clothing from my own apartment to change into, and I didn't intend to change my plans at all, I wanted to go out. I wanted to start living my life again and not fall into the same emotional turmoil that Nick continued to pull me back into. I wanted to meet new people and just start over. I promised myself I would stay strong and would never fall into Nick's traps again no matter how convincing he was.
I turned back to look at Nick as my eyes looked slowly across the firm tone of his arms, down along the growing gut that came with his grudging march toward middle age. He saw my gaze and grumbled with a slight grin. Slowly, spreading his legs to expose his cock once more.
"Like what you see?" he asked coolly, the cigarette dangling precariously from his lips as a thin trail of smoke hid his face, masking him in a wall of fog.
I smelled the tobacco from my position as I sighed somewhat, shaking my head at his words as I waved my hand.
"No. I have plans today. I'm going out with my friends."
That only elicited a grunt from him as his demeanor changed. His arousal dissipating as he turned from the amorous and thoughtful man back toward cold and distant then. He shrugged his shoulders as he mumbled in thought, inhaling deeply as the tip of his cig burned red that matched no doubt the inner annoyance he truly felt.
"Where are you going and who are you going with?"
Sighing again I debated whether to give in to him to abate an argument or not. I wasn't set to leave for another few hours with my friends, but I liked to be ready. A shower, grooming, and all of that. My hair alone taking up more of my time than I generally anticipated.
I decided maybe I should at least be more affirmative as I shook my head. Slowly moving away from him as I went to the oaken dresser on the side of the bedroom. My hands slowly moved along the smooth, varnished top of the dresser to the night bag that I brought with me with my clothing and necessities. "It's none of your business, Nick."
Nick clicked his tongue in agitation at that as he continued to puff away.
"Do whatever the hell you want, Jess. It's not like we're married anymore."
“Speaking of that," I took a deep breath. “I can't do this anymore."
“Do what?"
“I can't keep coming over for one of your “talks" and it always ends up like this. I feel used and gross, and I'm only doing this to myself."
“Suit yourself," he shrugged.
“Whatever, Nick. We're divorced which means we've parted ways. It doesn't mean to still hook up. I'm done."
Nick took another puff of his cigarette.
“You'll be back," he grinned wickedly. “I'll be downstairs getting myself a beer and watching the game."
“That's what you think," I murmured to myself as I pulled out several bits of clothing that I intended to wear out tonight. I watched him as he slowly moved to stand up, nude in the pale light of the room while he slowly walked with that swagger gait of his toward the windows.
I flinched a little as he passed me. My blue eyes gawked as he stepped up to the window to pull back the thick black curtains that separated the view of the bedroom from the rest of the street down below.
Suddenly light filled the room, chasing away the shadows that hid in the corners and crevices of the room, and bathed everything in the white glow of a dying afternoon. This time of year brought darkness earlier in the day, but not yet enough to cover the world in a morose darkness. Nick continued to stand there, staring down to the world in all of his grandiose nudity.
I moved down to retrieve what I intended to wear for the evening. Stockings? No, I cast them aside. A dress? Yes, something that I felt would show off my shape, pulling out a simple black dress to set aside. My black stiletto heels, lace panties, and a cute lace bra from Lane Bryant, of which I kept aside, not wanting Nick to see.
Turning my head, however, I looked back at my ex-husband as I went to the doorway, looking back at him while I called out.
"I'm being honest when I said I'm not coming over again. No more."
I heard his mischievous laugh.
I turned down the hallway, heading off to the bathroom to bathe and freshen up. Tonight I knew was going to be simple; Drinks, a sandwich, watching my friends flirt while I lamented the life I now had. Nothing more. A smile crept upon my face feeling proud of myself for making the decision to really move on. Never again would I fall prey to Nick's charm and a thread of hope.
Never again.
After a quick shower, I headed downstairs. There Nick sat, in the dining room at the table beneath the veneer of the light above, his weapons set out as he cleansed them. The craftsmanship of his profession spread all about as parts of a pistol sat out on different bits of cleaning cloth. The smell of oil, cigarette smoke, beer, and testosterone filled the open air.
I was used to seeing this sight. Nick always seemed to have a different gun each time I saw him, and I refused to ever ask why. One time I had overheard his conversation on his cell phone, and I didn't understand when he referred to them as ghost guns. The terminology unfamiliar to me, but one I wasn't keen to find out. All I knew was that when he was in this mood, his weapons all spread out; his focus entirely left anything else.
"Hey," I said as I stood at the front of the doorway. Standing between the beams as I watched him continue to clean the inside of the pistol barrel.
"Mmmm?" was his only response.
"I'm getting ready to leave. My friends should be here any moment. I'll come back for my things later."
From there Nick looked up at me with a bit of a critical eye. His bushy brow raised somewhat as I felt the glare of those ice blue eyes of
his.
"You look like a whore."
“Excuse me?"
“Don't talk to any guys tonight. I'll know."
I huffed. “Fuck you."
I knew better than to argue with him, and so I gave him the middle finger as I walked away. My heeled feet clicking down upon the carpeted floor. The last sound he heard for the evening from me.
Chapter Two
A month after my last meeting with Nick, I was preparing for another night out with my friends. After our quiet night out at the bad last time, I couldn't wait to do it again. I finished everything that I had set out to do before my evening with my friends. I showered, making sure that I got down to every little crevice on my body; making sure that I was thoroughly washed. The hot water pelting my body firmly, loosening my muscles and calming my nerves. I leaned against the shower and contemplated. The smell of rose soap and warm water soothing both my mind and body as I let my long hair dribble down, straightened by the weight of the water.
I always loved hot showers, especially in the middle of the day. My favorite time to be covered by water was generally after sex, especially when I was younger and dating around. The smell of my body intermingled with my partner's, the smell of the soaps. The water, the sounds of the shower head furiously pounding down against my soft skin.
It was all enough to mesmerize me once more as I felt more at peace than I ever really did anywhere else. Here in the shower was my sanctuary.
But like all good things, the hot water eventually started to turn lukewarm. The lukewarm water gave way to chilled, and the chilled to icy cold. My time in the shower was coming to an end before I turned the water off, and smeared my palm across the fogged glass that separated me from the rest of the room, opened the door, and entered into the mist.
I searched through the dense fog that erupted from the heated water, fumbling my way carefully to where I had left my towel. This path having been conducted hundreds of times before in the past year. My naked body winding across the wet tiles below, careful with each step I took before I maneuvered over, and felt my hands touch along soft, fluffy fabric.
Bingo!
Pulling, I brought back the large towel to wrap around my shoulders, feeling the weight of the fabric, the sensation of furry pinpricks tickling along my wettened skin. I made my way further to the mirror to finish drying myself off and start my makeup ritual.
My hair continued to cling to me, wet and sopping as it slapped back between my shoulders, drizzling down to the water rug I placed before the counter space.
I stopped to analyze myself, looking to see what areas I wanted to doll up for the evening as I gazed at a face both familiar and distant to me. It was me, in all my glory. Pretty, and round. My face was wet and growing with excitement for a chance to be out for the evening with my close friends again.
An hour later, a liberal application of mascara, foundation, eyeshadow, lipstick, and more all ready for a night out with my friends. I felt my confidence soar within me. My chest swelling with pride because I knew I looked damn good. My dark hair unbound from a ponytail for once, waving down in a frizzled tussle all around my round face to frame my cheeks. Bright red lipstick, and a black dress that plunged my neckline downward toward the tip of my cleavage. Neglecting the pantyhose tonight, I chose stiletto high heels. I looked like I was set to take the world by storm and I liked it.
As I exited my apartment, I was greeted with the sight of my friends. Mariah Rodriguez, a short, stunning, and temperamental Latina who enjoyed living gregariously and invitingly, and Theresa Thompson, a childhood friend I've had since moving to New York City when I was younger. Theresa was a tall, and skinny woman of elegance and mysterious sophistication. A woman who often took charge that I wished to aspire to be more like sometimes.
“To the dive bar!" I shouted.
All three of us laughed, hugged, and greeted one another before heading back to the cab that was waiting for us. We climbed inside, the door slamming behind us with finality as I realized my growing elation that I was finally going to be free from the oppressive nature of my ex-husband. I had resisted his attempts to see me over the last two weeks, and I was going to continue to move on with my life away from him.
"So..." Mariah said with a naughty smile on her face as I landed my head back against the seat with a thump. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the relaxation before I sat up in time to spy on Theresa who was talking to the cab driver in a whispered tone.
“You're such the flirt." I giggled.
“What?" Theresa's face turned red, doing her best to hide her smile. “No, I'm not!"
"So?" I asked Mariah.
"Ready for a fun evening out?" Mariah continued to ask as she leaned in closer to me. The lightness of her leopard print dress stood out against the darkened backdrop of my own dress. My smile ever growing as I felt the heat of her body press in against mine.
“Why are you acting so weird?" I smiled.
“Am I? I'm just happy that we're all hanging out again tonight."
I turned to look at Theresa with a raise of my brow, and she was also displaying a sly grin.
"Okay, ladies. What's going on?"
"We have a surprise for you," Theresa replied.
"A surprise?" I said with a nervous smile.
The cab pushed forward, driving down along the road as I felt the rush of movement beneath my rear. The speeding haze of glowing city lights shooting passed us like stars of another world. Neon bright advertisements, the lights of business buildings, and more shooting stars passed as the last of the sun's rays fell above the horizon line, casting New York City in its shadow. My mind continued to race to what they had meant specifically with the term of 'surprise.'
"You'll see, Jess," was all Theresa had said, and eventually I found what they had meant.
Instead of the plan that we chose which was to go to our favorite dive bar again for music and drinks and watch them flirt, we took a different turn. We headed down to the center of the nightlife part of the city that was alive with people from all walks of life. The desperate, the horny, the adventurous, and the tourists. The section that was animated with music and violence. My heart continued to beat as we left the familiarity of gentrification and home to places and things I had not seen in some time.
"Um, where are going?" I said as I looked away in nervousness before we came down to the end of a road I had not seen before. Our cab came to a halt as the driver turned expectantly to Theresa.
Theresa winked, paid the driver, and slowly pushed me out to follow behind Mariah as she continued to giggle like a school girl.
"Come on Jess. Live a little," was all she said as she leaned into me. I felt the warmth of her hand wrapping around me as we walked to the line. I looked upward at the building sign with puzzlement. In bright dark lettering, on a red backdrop with a pair of dangling cuffs at the end, it simply read: The Twisted Sanctuary.
“Theresa? What the hell is this place?"
Theresa just giggled while scrolling through her cell phone.
"Twisted? A little grim don't you guys think?" I muttered somewhat beneath my breath, finding its name strangely off-putting. Theresa snuggled up beside me, nearly bumping into several more people who were waiting in line with us.
"Yeah. It's new. Rated one of the new and hottest clubs in the city, Jess," she said with an innocent grin. “I thought we should check it out. Live it up a little bit like we use to do before you... you know."
I knew exactly what she meant, and I sighed a bit as the line continually moved toward the bouncer at the end.
“Mariah? Did you know about this?"
“It'll be fun, Jess," Mariah assured me. “What? Are you afraid of Nick finding out?"
“Fuck Nick!" I shouted.
“That's the spirit!" The two of them cheered in unison.
I went to speak before a man behind us wormed his way between Mariah and Theresa. He was grinning in all the wrong ways as he looked to us with big sunglasses despite the fa
ct that it was nighttime.
"Heard you ladies are here for the first time?"
Theresa, ever the gracious one to flirt with anyone who wasn't obtuse coming forward giggled and looked to the side where the man was. "Maybe. What's it to you?"
"Just asking. The Twisted Sanctuary was rated flaming hot on several different review sites on clubs in NYC. It's why I'm here. Maybe I could give you fine ladies all a show inside?"
“The line is finally moving!" Theresa pointed at the entrance of the club.
A young couple in front of us were denied entry. The large, burly bouncer cited that they were too clean, too pure, and looked too "innocent" to enter in.
“Did you hear what the bouncer just said?" I asked Mariah and Theresa who were too busy chatting with people waiting in line. “What's too 'innocent?'"
I felt sorry for the couple as they moved away from the line without argument. They looked normal enough to me. Just a couple of kids, more than likely in their early 20's, fresh-faced and wanting to party. Either tourist to the city itself, or from the suburbs looking for a fun time.
I started to become nervous at the prospect of not getting in. I wasn't exactly pure myself, but I didn't know if I would qualify entrance to the club. Was there a dress code I wasn't aware of?
"Next in the line."
"Good luck, sweetheart. Hope to see you ladies inside," the sunglasses-wearing man whispered loudly into Theresa's ear. She then joined Mariah next to me.
The bouncer was larger and burlier up close as he looked down at us with a scowl. A man who appeared not to be someone to mess with. I felt his judging eyes peering down to appraise us three. I started to sweat. I didn't know whether we'd be accepted or not. After all, there was only so much space inside the club no doubt, and I was unsure if we even fit the description of what he wanted.
"Hmmm..." he gave a snort as he looked from between Mariah, Theresa, and I.
