Personal Demons

by Rachel A. Collett

  He staggered, taking a clumsy swipe with his knife, cutting the fabric of my upraised forearm. Anger, hot and powerful, seared through my body. I side kicked him in the stomach, causing him to fly back and onto the ground.

  It all happened in a matter of seconds that seemed like an eternity. He crawled to his hands and knees, laughing. The switchblade had fallen a few feet from his hand. I retrieved the knife, folded it shut, and slipped it in my pocket.

  “You’re a fighter, aren’t you?” He turned his head, but before he could look at me, I punched him hard in the face.

  As I cocked my elbow back, moving to strike again, arms grabbed me from behind and pulled me away from the blond man.

  The man spat blood onto the asphalt. Terrified, blue eyes gazed at me, the smile sliding from his face.

  “I’m sorry,” he cried. It was a pathetic sound. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “Come on, Sarah.” Laith pushed me behind him and slowly backed away from the still-bleeding man. “Elisa went to call the police,” Laith said louder.

  The man on the ground suddenly jumped up. Laith shoved me back hard and stood ready for an assault, but the man with the changing eyes ran the opposite direction.

  We hurried to the safety of the restaurant. As soon as we were near the front entrance, I grabbed Laith’s hand and pulled. He looked down at me, his expression still half-wild.

  “You have to stop Elisa,” I whispered urgently. “She can’t call the police.”

  “She hasn’t. I was bluffing. She’s still at the table, waiting.”

  “Then how did you…”

  “You were supposed to wait for me to walk you out. That’s my job, Sarah. I didn’t realize you’d actually left. I paid the bill and followed you out only seconds later.” His sight narrowed as a wave of relief swept over me. “We have to call—”

  “No.” I shook my head, realizing with relief he had not seen the entire thing.

  “I don’t understand. You were just attacked!”

  “I wasn’t attacked,” I laughed, but it came out forced and strange. “No, he… he was just flirting with me and got a little handsy. That’s all. He was really drunk, Laith. I don’t think he knew what he was doing.”

  Laith swore as he turned back to the entry door.

  “You saw him earlier. Please, Laith,” I called out. My words were hoarse, but he stopped. “You have to trust me.”

  Turning to me, Laith quickly looked me over. “Did he hurt you?” Without waiting for an answer, he gripped my chin, examining my face, then my neck. I sucked in when he grabbed my side, trying to rotate me around.

  “I’m fine,” I murmured. “Really.”

  Laith let out a deep growl. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, but thank you… for coming to check on me. I think it… discouraged him.”

  “My ass,” he breathed, running a hand through his hair. “I think your head-butt to the face is what discouraged him. Dang, girl.”

  He gently rubbed his thumb over my forehead. As he did, his gaze narrowed. “You don’t even have a bruise. How…?” He shook his head. I tried to ignore my aching ribs when he snatched me up into an embrace.

  As I pulled up to the house, I was relieved when I realized Cheryl wasn’t home.

  I quickly went into my room, removed my sliced shirt, and inspected my wounds. My arm had a minor knife cut, but my ribs had sustained most of the damage from being slammed against the car.

  Then there were his hands. Standing in front of my mirror in my jeans and bra, I could see that the fingerprint-size bruises spanned the area of my waist and moved up my ribs, but my chest, and the rest of me, had gone unmolested.

  I gazed at the hard lines of my stomach, the toned muscles of my arms and shoulders. Then something pulsed at my chest. I felt strong, stronger than I had ever felt before, and something else. I reached into my pocket and fingered the smooth handle of my new token.

  My cell started ringing. Hesitantly, I strode over to it and saw that it was Elisa. I sighed with relief, thankful it wasn’t my dad. I answered it.

  “Hey, what’s up?”

  There was silence on the other line for a moment before she answered. “I saw what you did. I saw the whole thing.”

  My mouth opened to respond, but nothing came out. After a few moments she continued, “We need to talk, now.”

  “We are talking.”

  “In person,” she demanded.

  “I can’t. Not now,” I lied.

  “Who taught you to fight like that?” When I didn’t answer again, her voice became almost a whisper. “There are very few people who can fight like that and then walk away without going into shock. Who taught you to fight like that?”

  Again I hesitated, but I couldn’t understand why. Why did everything in my life have to be a secret? Elisa was my friend. Friends aren’t supposed to have secrets.

  “My dad.”

  No response came from the other end, and after a while I thought she had hung up.

  “Elisa?”

  “We need to talk. Soon.”

  After she hung up, I threw my phone onto my bed. Drawing the knife from my pocket, I pulled open my top drawer and placed it next to my dad’s knife. I had won both weapons in fights, and I would keep both as my own. I fingered the handle of my tactical blade, the black molded rubber grip so comforting in my hand. Then I caressed the ivory hilt of my new token, taking notice of the golden inlay and the initials C.W.

  I smiled. Maybe next time I would listen to my father’s warnings. Just maybe.

  8

  Waking Up

  I didn’t know what I was hearing at first. It was Saturday morning, and I had every intention of sleeping in, especially after last night’s incident. I sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. According to my alarm clock, it was only a few minutes after seven in the morning.

  What the heck? Annoyed, I reached out and hit the snooze button. My ribs screamed out in protest. “Oh man!” I rolled over, cradling my side, but my alarm didn’t turn off. I groaned. “Shut up!” Trying to ignore the pain, I hit it again. The noise continued. “Oh that’s it!” I sat up and grabbed the clock, found the cord in the back and yanked it out of the outlet. The noise stopped. “Stupid thing,” I huffed, dropping it to the ground.

  I flopped back down on my bed dramatically, wanting to yank the covers over my body and go back to sleep, but on the way down, my head nailed the headboard instead of my soft pillow. “Son of a gun!” I flipped over on my side holding my throbbing head. “Enough already!” I didn’t know which hurt worse, my head or my ribs.

  The noise started for a second time. “What in the hell!” I threw off my covers and sat up once again, ready to chuck the thing across the room—and then I realized it wasn’t my alarm.

  “Oh crap!” I sprang out of bed and tried to focus on where the sound was coming from, instead of on my protesting body. I dropped to the floor and saw the familiar blue light of my cell phone emanating from underneath my bed.

  “How the heck did you get under there?” I reached out to grab it. “Hello?”

  “Oh, finally! What the heck took you so long to answer?” But before I could respond, Cheryl said, “Sarah, he’s awake! Benjamin’s awake!”

  We had been waiting for this day for almost a month, and now it had happened. I knew that I wouldn’t believe it until I had seen it.

  “How is he?” I asked nervously

  “He’s good, Sarah. He’s really doing well. The doctors say his recovery is amazing. His mind and memory seem to be just fine.”

  I let out a silent sigh of relief. “I’m on my way.” I had already grabbed my bag and keys and was heading out the door.

  My mind raced as I drove to the hospital. I had absolutely no rational thought. All I could keep thinking were the words He’s awake. Benjamin’s awake.

  I walked in a trance-like state down the hospital hallways, so familiar to me now that I could walk them in my sleep. I paused just outside of Benjamin’s
door and turned nervously toward the nurse’s station. Ben’s nurse was there as always, staring at me with an encouraging smile on her lips.

  “Go on, honey,” she whispered.

  I turned back around and walked into the room where a very familiar face and unusually-aware eyes looked my direction. An anxious smile touched the corner of his mouth.

  “Sarah.” He had a much deeper voice than I had expected. Unable to move, I stood staring at him. Stormy gray eyes pierced through me as wave after wave of unspoken emotion rolled off him.

  This is not what I had expected. This was not the man I had come to watch over. I could sense his anxiety. His once-soft facial features turned steely as he watched my reaction to him, and I realized he was waiting for me to speak.

  I swallowed hard, “How do you know my name?”

  “From the picture Ian kept at his desk.” He closed his eyes just to reopen them a moment later. Frustration pulled at his features as exhaustion tried to envelope him. “Plus, she told me,” he added, gesturing to an area behind me. I twisted around to see that his nurse was watching us through the window. She smiled at me before turning away.

  “I see.” I awkwardly walked over to his bedside and sat down in my usual chair. Automatically, I reached out to take his hand, something that I had done countless times before, but of course he wasn’t awake at the time. It wasn’t until my fingers touched his warm hand and I saw his eyes darken that I realized my mistake. I dropped my hand and tried my hardest to pretend that I had not just done something so stupid.

  “So, how are you feeling?” I asked.

  He didn’t answer right away. He continued to look at me until his eyes drooped. “Pissed. I can’t seem to keep my eyes open for more than a few seconds. What have they been giving me?”

  His heavy sedation gave me hope that he wouldn’t remember my embarrassingly forward gesture.

  “The doctor hasn’t told you?”

  “I’ve asked, but I seem to fall asleep every time they start to answer.”

  “I’m not sure. They’ve got all sorts of attachments hooked up to you. Who knows what any of them are really doing? I think one of them was feeding you for a while.”

  He grimaced. “It was that bad, huh?”

  “You were pretty bad.”

  “And you’ve been here every day?” His eyes half-opened to look at me.

  “Not every day, but close.” I shrugged.

  His eyes closed again.

  “Ian was a good guy. I’m sorry.”

  “Yes, he was one of the best.” I agreed with him.

  “This must be hard for you.”

  “This… what?” I was confused as to which part he could be referring to.

  “Coming here every day to watch over someone you barely know, wishing it was Ian instead of me.” His voice turned as stormy as his eyes. “If I could bring him back, trade places with him, I would.”

  The monitors reacted to his guilt. Benjamin was quick to notice this as well, and he turned toward the machines and growled. I tried to pacify him before the nurses came running in.

  “I will always miss him, but this will not bring him back. I am just thankful you’re alive and awake, finally.”

  He was looking at me now, and for a moment we stared at each other, both not knowing what to say next. His eyes turned weary again, and he fought to keep them open.

  “Ben, you need to rest,” I said softly as he continued fighting to stay awake.

  “I don’t want to sleep anymore,” he mumbled, but it was too late. Sleep was taking him whether he wanted it or not.

  He came to just long enough to inquire whether or not I would be there when he woke. “Cheryl normally comes in the morning, but I’ll be back later in the afternoon.”

  His arm lifted slightly, as if to reach out for me. I gave him my hand, and he held it for a moment. He opened his eyes halfway, trying to focus. “I always thought your picture was beautiful.”

  His fingers relaxed around mine as he drifted off, the hard lines of his face softened as soon as he was asleep. I watched him a moment before leaving. I had already become attached to him, spending so many hours reading to him, having one-way conversations with him. He had become a part of my life in many ways. But now something unnerving had occurred, something that I had not expected. My heart had reacted ever so slightly to his comment about finding me beautiful.

  I stayed until it grew dark outside, but still Benjamin slept. Growing weary, I left to get some rest. As I waited for the elevator, I leaned my head against the cold glass of a nearby window.

  “I’ve been told that loved ones often go into shock when a patient finally wakes up from a coma. Are you going into shock, Sarah?”

  My chest tightened as I turned my attention to Jonathan, but my necklace didn’t respond to his closeness. “You just made that up,” I said.

  “Yes I did, but it makes sense doesn’t it?” He crossed his arms, examining my appearance. “You look pale.”

  I wiped a hand down my face. “It’s been a long day,” I said, glancing back out the window. A young woman was crossing the parking lot, headed toward her car. I didn’t look away until I’d made sure she had gotten in and safely drove away. “It’s been a really long day on top of a really bad night.”

  “Oh?” He moved towards the opposite side of the window and followed my gaze. “It sounds like we shared the same twenty-four hours.” I glanced over at him. He seemed nervous. “Where do we go from here?” he asked softly, a touch of uncertainty in his words.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

  The elevator door opened and I turned to leaved. Jonathan followed me inside the empty space, and I backed in farther as his presence pushed against me.

  “I just got here, but… will you go to dinner with me? I feel like we should talk.”

  “About what?”

  “Anything. No, not just anything.” His fingers combed through his dark hair. “I just need a friend to talk to.”

  I shook my head, “I’m so tired, Jonathan. Tonight’s not a good night.”

  He sighed as the elevator doors opened, and stepped out so I could pass. “Are we not friends, Sarah?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

  “I don’t get it.” Jonathan’s voice rose in frustration. “I’ve been here nearly every day for almost a month, and still you remain reserved and cautious around me—”

  “It’s what I’ve been taught, “I shrugged turning from him.

  “Night after night, Sarah.”

  I whirled to glare at him. “What are you trying to say, Jonathan?”

  “That I’m jealous!” his words shot out, uncontrolled.

  “Jealous? Of Benjamin? A man that just came out of a coma?”

  His gaze caught mine and held me for a moment. Then, trying to seem more casual, he slid the tips of his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans. He took a deep breath and chuckled uncomfortably. “I guess it does sound ridiculous. What I’m trying to say, Sarah, is that I like you, and I’ve been trying to get to know you—trying to get you to give me a chance, in the most gentlemanly way, but nothing has worked. Tell me what I continue to do wrong.”

  His expression looked strangely hopeful, and my stomach twisted into tiny little knots. He had such an incredible face! Damn that face

  My cheeks flushed. “You like me, and so you yell at me?” I hissed at him. “I’m so confused by you, Jonathan. Every time I’m around you, you’re different. Every time I dream about you…” I clamped my mouth shut.

  “You dream about me?” Jonathan watched me, trying to read my expression, but after a while, his face darkened. “Well, as flattering as that first sounded, I’m guessing your dreams are making me into some kind of monster. I’m not your monster, Sarah,” he whispered. “I’m just Jonathan. And I care for you, more than you can possibly imagine.”

  “You can’t care for someone you hardly know.” I said, trying to look away, but his gaze held mine. />
  “I know you well enough.” His voice—deep, alluring and seductive all at the same time—sent another feeling, coursing through my body. I looked up unwillingly from my hands that were suddenly clenched at my heart. Despite all of my attempts to control myself, I couldn’t help but notice the outlines of a sculpted chest and solid arms underneath his black shirt.

  His powerful gaze swept over my figure, unrelenting in their examination. He slowly paced forward so that we were merely a foot apart, his eyes still locked into mine.

  I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I swayed a little on the spot, not much, but it was enough to make him notice and smile.

  “All I’m asking for is a chance,” he purred. “Is that too much to give?”

  “I…” A large lump suddenly stuck in my throat, making it nearly impossible to speak.

  “It’s not much at all, Sarah,” he uttered so softly that I could barely hear him. “What will convince you?”

  He reached his hand slowly out as if to take my hand, and I stepped back automatically. The movement felt as if we were two magnets pushing against each other. He stopped short, seeing my reaction, and a smile played across his lips. A look came into his eyes that made me both burn and quake at the same time. He took another step forward, and I made another involuntary step back.

  He chuckled lightly. “Someday soon you won’t run from me, Sarah. I look forward to that day.”

  I took another step back, then maneuvered around him.

  My stomach plagued me with nauseating butterflies, but as I distanced myself from Jonathan, and as the knot around my chest loosened, I realized what it was that had caused me to react so strangely two separate times today. It was attraction—feelings of attraction for both Benjamin and Jonathan—but while the appeal I felt toward Benjamin seemed interesting, the lure toward Jonathan felt alarming.

  As I drove I tried again and again to convince myself that I was wrong, that I couldn’t possibly be attracted to either one. Besides, should attraction be so complicated? I turned on the radio and blasted my music to drown out my new, but rather annoying, feelings. If this was what it was like to fall for someone, you could keep it.