I kissed him like there was no tomorrow, and oh my God, he tasted delicious, a cross between and orange and peppermint. It was like kissing candy lips.
I apparently always acted somewhat wantonly when with him. I snickered.
I came right out and told him ‘I’ve been dying to do that all night’ and to my relief he leaned in and kissed me back. By the time he walked me to the door of my apartment, my legs were the consistency of noodles.
I figured I was taking a big chance; it could go one of two ways. Either he could look at me like I was some kind of crazy slut, and just screw my brains out. Or he can just come in, have a drink, maybe play around a bit and…well. I asked him to come in for a nightcap and he accepted.
I was nervous as all hell. I have never invited a man into my place after just a few dates, but there was something about this guy…besides, he had a fucking crazy body that I could easily drool over all night, but he was also sweet and mysterious and gorgeous…Did I mention hot?
Now that he said yes, I prayed I had something in the house he liked to drink. I know I had beer it the fridge and I had a couple of bottles of red wine. I lucked out. It turns out he likes scotch and I just happened to have a brand new bottle of Glen Livet 21 year unopened and sitting in the bar.
I’m getting excited just writing about what happened next.
Needless to say, we didn’t stop at just a kiss. We ended up sleeping together…I always hated that term as there was very little sleep involved. I mean we had sex, on the sofa, the counter top, and we even did it in the bed. I think we used up half the box of condoms I had in my nightstand table. The man has the stamina of a bull!
Holy Moley, I could be quite brazen at times.
This is the best part. The next morning when I woke up, he was gone…but when I woke up I saw that he left a note on top of the pillow he slept on. I picked up the note and read it.
“I can’t wait to see you again. You look so beautiful and kissable laying there sleeping like an angel, I’m fighting the devil not to wake you, because right now, all I want to do is make love to you. Call me, 212-245-6124.”
You know what I did next, don’t you. Yup! I picked up that pillow and held it up to my nose and took a big sniff. I loved that note. In fact, I loved it so much it’s taped on the last page of you, Dearest Diary.
I quickly flipped the book over and opened the back page, and there, good as her…my word, was the note. I taped it there. Genius!
It’s somewhat worn and yellowed. I must have read it a thousand times by the looks of it.
I read it again. And again. And again. And each time I got a chill up my spine. He was a very romantic man. He’s damned near perfect.
My eyes were beginning to close and I shut the book placing it back in the drawer. Smiling.
It’s kind of cool that I’ve got my own personal love story…written by, of all people, ME!
Running. Running. Legs burning. She was running. Trying to get away. She ran into a room and tried to control the rising panic as she searched for a spot to hide.
Quickly hiding behind a rocking chair…
Footsteps approached.
She held her breath.
Her heart pounding so loudly in her chest, she was sure he would hear it.
Just then she looked up.
A man’s face, fuzzy and unclear, was hovering over her laughing at her. He laughed loudly at her attempt to hide.
He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the corner. She looked down at her hands and saw blood. There was blood everywhere. On her hands and her legs. Her shirt was covered in blood. She thrust her hand into his face and when he fell back, startled, she ran out the door.
She could hear him right behind her, but she wouldn’t turn around. She felt something tug at her hair propelling her feet forward. But he yanked her back. She slammed into his body. With his face all twisted with hate, he mocked her, and then pushed her forward.
She was flying. Higher then crashing down…She screamed loudly, the word “Nooooooooo” wailed, echoing in the big empty space. Or was that inside her head. “Noooooooo” over and over and over again.
“Sarah!”
A man’s voice called out.
She felt hands on her shoulders, shaking her.
“Sarah!” He was shouting now, “You’re dreaming, you’re alright. I’ve got you.”
She felt arms around her tighten as she tried to pull them off her arms. She was fighting this time. She was flailing, scratching and hitting.
“Sarah. I’ve got you.”
The voice was calmer now. She couldn’t move her arms. Both pinned to her sides in a vice-like grip.
I jolted up, opened my eyes and quickly scanned the room; a man was holding me to his chest, my arms ached, my breathing erratic, burning in my lungs.
“What…who…?” I yelled out.
“Sarah, it’s me Brad. You were having a nightmare. Are you ok? Sarah, look at me. Look. At. Me.”
I looked at his face, and the first thing I noticed was the long, bloody scratch down his cheek. He had blood slowly trailing down to his chin.
“Sarah?” He asked calmly, seemingly unaware of the tear in his skin.
“Brad?” I answered. I was totally confused and exhausted. Every muscle in my body ached.
“Yes, it’s me. You were dreaming. It’s over now. You’re safe.” He rocked me against his body and I felt hot tears run down the sides of my face onto my chest. I began sobbing. I could feel his grip loosen. I looked down at my hands, pent up air leaving my trembling body in racking sobs.
“Brad?” I cried.
“I’ve got you.” He pulled me back onto the bed and held me still, close to his body. He began to rub my back, and I could feel the knots of tension slowly loosen. His voice was soothing, and I calmed somewhat. My mind still spinning. My eyes frantically darted from darkened corner to corner. A trail of light flooded the bedroom from the hallway. I continued to look around the room, half expecting to see the ‘man’ of my dreams, or nightmares, lurking in the corner, or behind the door.
Brad reached over me and opened a pill bottle removing one pill. Placing it on the table, he slowly stood and walked to the bathroom. When he came back, he was holding a small glass of water. I looked up at him and noticed his face was still bleeding.
“Oh Brad, you’re hurt.”
“I’m fine, it’s just a scratch. Take this.” He handed me the water and gave me the pill.
I held out my hand, which was visibly trembling and he bypassed my hand and indicated for me to open my mouth. I did as he directed and he placed the pill in my dry mouth. I drank the water he handed me, spilling down my throat to the bedding below.
“Did I do that?” I asked, pointing a shaky finger at his cheek.
“It’s just a scratch.” He said reassuringly.
“Brad, what happened? What’s wrong with me?”
Brad pulled a tissue from the box on the table and pressed it to his face and my stomach tightened as a wave of guilt wash over me.
“I don’t want to upset you anymore than you are, but did you remember anything more about the accident?”
“Someone was chasing her. He hurt her. She was bleeding. I think she scratched him and then ran…I, um, I don’t remember anything more.” I told him all I could remember of my dream.
His face dropped and I could see red-hot anger burning in his eyes.
The intensity of his stare was frightening.
I held my head in my hands and searched my mind, trying with all my might to see who the people were in my dream. All I managed to do in the end was give myself an incredible headache.
“No.” I said firmly.
The dejected look on his face tore me apart, and he was bleeding.
“Here, sit down next to me.” I tentatively pat the bed next to me.
I watched as his fists clenched open and closed. I could see that he was struggling to control himself as he paced. It looked to me like he was looking for
an outlet. He was frustrated and wanted something tangible to strike out at. I was as frustrated as well. I tapped the bed next to me harder.
“Please, Brad.” I needed to concentrate on something else, get him to think about something else. The air was charged with electricity looking for an outlet and I got a feeling that this would not end well. Something was very, very wrong.
He walked over and sat, albeit a bit reluctantly.
I mechanically pulled a cluster of tissues out of the box and shoved it into the water glass he’d just brought me. Holding it up to his cheek, I leaned over and pressed it against the scrape in his flesh. I cringed as I watched his jaw tick with what I can only describe as unadulterated fury. He was aching to smash something, or hurt someone. I shook involuntarily as I began rubbing lightly at the gash that I had caused. The mark on his beautiful face caused by my nails. I methodically wiped the blood away.
I turned my head away, trying to compose myself, trying to control the shaking that was wracking my body from the inside. I looked down and noticed the clock said 2:24 am.
“I’m sorry.” I blurted out.
“For what?”
“For hurting you.” I tried to hold back the tears rapidly building in my eyes.
I marked his handsome face and I don’t remember doing it. I don’t remember who I am, who he is. I can’t remember my dream. I felt useless. I was a danger to myself and to him.
Why can’t I remember? Why?
“Will you stay…in here…with me? I think I’m afraid.”
“Of course.” He took the wad of wet tissues from my hand and tossed it into the garbage can. “Get under the blanket.” His tone was tense and it scared me, but being alone scared me even more.
He stood and held the comforter up as I shimmied under it.
“Were you still up?” It wasn’t overly important, but it seemed odd that he would be up this late when he had work so early the next day.
“Uh hum.”
He didn’t say yes or no and I didn’t want to press it.
“Don’t forget to wake me.” All of a sudden I had a great fear of being alone in this house. I didn’t want him to go into the city without me, especially now.
“You sure you’re up to it?”
“Don’t leave me here alone…please.” The plea in my voice was almost sad.
He reached over me to turn the light off.
“Can you leave the light on?” I whispered.
“I’ll leave the low setting on,” he reached over me, “this okay?” He asked, leaning back against the headboard, his eyes trained on me.
The room was cast in a low glow and I felt the bed dip as the weight of his body shifted closer to me.
I lay there still and silent, my eyes wide open, trying to keep the bad thoughts at bay. I must have fallen asleep because before I knew it, Brad was tapping my legs.
“Sarah. Sweetheart, do you still want to come with me?”
“Yes.” I bolted upright in bed. There was no way in hell he was leaving me alone in this house. Not now. Not since I realized that something did happen to me in this house. I wasn’t positive, but I was pretty damned sure.
“Then it’s time to shower. Want coffee?”
I thought for a second, “It is necessary, I think, if I want to function.”
He chuckled lightly and walked out of the bedroom and the hackles on my neck rose in unison.
For a split second it felt like the entire incident last night was a dream. I even wondered if I’d just imagined the whole thing?
I threw my legs over the side and tried focusing my eyes. I looked at the clock. 8:06 am. Time to get moving.
I stood and headed towards the bathroom and shower, hoping it would wake me up a bit. As I walked towards the bathroom, I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye and I looked over. For a split second I thought I saw something and nearly jumped out of my skin. I spun around and let out a small squeal. I was sure a man was crouching there. I took a step back, and froze.
My body still, tense.
My muscles burned trying to maintain my motionless state. I was unable to take my eyes away.
Flash.
There was someone there…I remember seeing someone behind that door, a man. His face was indistinct…blurry.
Or did I imagine it all because I was still jumpy from my nightmare last night?
I think I growled, actually growled.
I found myself getting angry.
Angry that someone could reach into my life, tear it apart so it was no longer recognizable, to even me, and make me so afraid I was unable to think or move. I let out the pent up air in my lungs, not realizing until that moment that I had been holding my breath, and walked over to the door wildly pulling it open, away from the wall. It crashed into the doorstop thankfully, stopped short of hitting the wall.
I saw nothing, no one.
My chest still burned.
And I shook as a chill ran the length of my spine.
I shook my head and let out a raw sounding laugh.
“Enough silly woman. Get in the shower.” I admonished myself. “Really. You need to take control, because you are starting to creep yourself out.”
After my shower, I walked over to the huge walk in closet, pulled open the door and stepped inside the vast room that held all ‘my’ clothes. I searched through the racks of pants, skirts, blouses and sweaters all hanging neatly, meticulously. There was a pattern I was sure, but there was no time to figure me out now. I had to get ready for my big day and my pending road trip.
I was getting aggravated—not to mention cold with just a towel wrapped around me—at not finding something quickly. I pulled out a blouse and a pair of black pants and got dressed. I walked to the back of the enormous closet and looked at all the shoes lying neatly in order by heel height.
I must be some crazy OCD bitch.
“What’s so funny?” I heard Brad’s voice behind me and spun around.
“What, what do you mean?”
“You just laughed.” He was standing there impeccably dressed in a dark charcoal suit with a blue striped shirt and a green and blue tie.
Totally drool worthy.
He was just a stunning looking man. Black shinny hair, piercing blue eyes, perfectly formed jaw and full lips that barely covered the smile that was slowly growing. I don’t ever picture myself getting tired of looking at him.
He must think me mad standing there with my mouth hanging open, staring at him like love-lorn teen, like he was some kind of a God.
“Your coffee.” He held out a cup.
And now…he was officially a God!
I walked over to him and took the cup, bringing the cup to my mouth and taking a much needed sip, wishing and hoping it would wake my still sleeping brain cells the heck up.
“Thank you.”
“I always liked the black pumps with those pants.”
I looked behind me and walked right over to a pair of black pumps.
“These?”
“Those are nice, but I think until you are better at the walking thing, you should stick to a lower heel.”
I was half a mind to pull the four-inch heels off the rack and step into them, but I knew he was right.
“I’ll listen to you this time…”
“Good girl.”
I applied some of her, ‘my’, makeup and finished my coffee. A few minutes later, Brad announced it was time to leave and we walked down the stairs and got into the waiting car.
I climbed in with him directly behind me.
“Jason, I think we’re all in.”
“Yes, Mr. Hunter.”
“Jason?”
“Do you remember Jay?” Brad asked, a hopeful gleam in his eye.
“No, I was wondering what happened to Mark.”
“You are good.” He sounded surprised, then he smiled crookedly watching as I almost slid off the seat. “Mark is Jay’s cousin. Jay was vacationing when you were released, so I kind of borrowed Mark
to take us home.”
“So, do we ever drive ourselves?” My question was snarky, but my mood was light. I was confident that Brad knew I was joking.
“We do, but during rush hour, it gives me a little more time to get some work done, and spend time with you.” He squeezed my hand.
“Hmmm. Makes sense to me.” I smiled at Brad, “Anyway, hi Jay. How is Mark?”
“Good morning, Miss Sarah, Mark is well. He is back driving for the Renaldi’s. They’re back from Italy. I’ll let him know you asked about him.”
“Thank you, Jay.” I smiled at him and I could see him smile back in the rear view.
“The Renaldi’s?” I asked Brad.
“Family friends.” His answer was short, so I didn’t bother to ask any more questions.
I was about to tell him about the ‘vision’ of the man behind the door in the bedroom, but thought it would only upset him. I looked at his perfect face, well, perfect if not for the scratch down one side, compliments of the crazy woman living in my brain.
“I’m really sorry about that.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s fine. Don’t feel a thing.”
“Sorry anyway.”
He squeezed my hand again. We traveled for some time in silence, Brad looking at some papers he had removed from his briefcase, me with my face pressed up against the glass looking at the surrounding landscape, praying for another ‘flash’ of memory, to no avail.
We went over a bridge and drove through an enormous canyon of buildings surrounding us on all sides. I smiled, watching the throngs of people pouring out of the subway, looking very much like busy ants leaving the nest in search for food.
We pulled up in front of a tall aluminum and glass colored building and I recognized it.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t because I remembered something, it was because Brad pointed it out to me when we were on our way home from the hospital.
“This is us.” Brad announced. “Stay put, I’ll come around.”
He got out and walked around the back of the car and opened my door.
“Jay, I’ll call you.” Brad looked at his watch, “We’ll be about four or five hours.”
“Very well.” He said politely, “And Miss Sarah?” he hesitated, “it’s really nice to see you up and about again.”
Ever, Sarah Page 13
