by Jaden Wilkes
Was it odd that as I lay there beaten and broken by one man, I thought of another? I didn’t think so. In fact, it was quite normal. I’d been seeking an escape from my life, a fantasy that would take me far from the hovel where I lived and the dive where I worked. I’d been seeking freedom from what my life had ultimately become.
That man with his light, striking blue eyes had been my escape. Even on the days when he didn’t come in, I had hope that he would. There had been an extra spring to my step since I first saw him, the naive belief that maybe he would one day tell me his name.
Standing at the counter, I would imagine him walking through the door. My eyes traveling lazily over the dips and shadows created on his face by the way light touched him. Always dressed in a tailored suit, he carried himself in a regal and self-assured way.
His stride was long, but not quick. He never seemed to be in a hurry, although I could imagine him running along the streets of downtown Portland going from one important business meeting to another.
My knees never shook in his presence until I heard his voice. Deep, with a smooth cadence, he used words I didn’t always understand, but I could figure out their meaning from the sentence he’d been saying.
It’s not like we had long deep discussions over coffee, and most of our conversations had been limited to polite, yet short, exchanges, but his was a voice I would never forget.
I was almost glad for that. I could never compete with him and I’d be too embarrassed to admit that I wasn’t anything near as educated as him.
I couldn’t lie around all day. I felt like shit and wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and forget I exist. Maybe I could lie here long enough that my body would give out from lack of water or food. Even if I’d been able to do so, Billy wouldn’t give me the chance.
Oh god. I wanted to get away from him. I’d imagined his death so many times. The assortment of ways I could kill him off without feeling a drop of remorse for having done so.
He was disgusting and vile. The type of man that had so much potential but wasted it on booze, women and drugs. If I hadn’t dated him in high school and ran away with him when I turned 18, I would have never dated him now.
His crass expression and blundering demeanor would have been a warning sign that he was the type to avoid. I wished he had developed those traits when we were younger. It would have saved me so many years of pain.
Finally pushing myself up on weak arms, I felt a hand touch my back and I jumped in response. A painful cry escaped my lips and the hand pulled away as I steadied myself over the mattress.
“You’d be smart to remain as still as possible for the next couple of days.”
My heart leapt into my throat, my pulse pounding so furiously that I felt light-headed from the rush of blood. I recognized the voice speaking to me, but there was no rhyme or reason for me to be hearing it.
I shook my head, deciding that I was hallucinating. I had to open my eyes. Had to look around at the piles of junk in my room and the stains on the ceiling so I remembered that I was home. Billy must have hit me upside the head too hard because I could have sworn the voice I’d just heard had been the man from the diner.
I didn’t hear him speak again. After a few seconds, I relaxed and attempted to force my eyelids apart so I would know for certain that he wasn’t there. Light crept in through the slivers I was able to open and it blinded me.
It wasn’t until this moment that I noticed other odd things about my environment. The normal rush of traffic and screaming adults and children was missing from outside my window. I didn’t hear the sirens of cop cars or ambulances, the familiar buzz of planes flying overhead. It was quiet. So much so that fear was being born inside me from the lack of sound.
It also smelled nice. That alone was confusing. Normally my apartment smelled of stale cigarette smoke competing against the remnants of beer or hard liquor that Billy always managed to spill on the carpet. Instead, my nose was met with the light musk of cologne, coupled with the fresh scent of laundry detergent. I believe there might have been a note of two of flowers lingering in the air.
Fuck. I wasn’t home.
Now balanced well enough with just my body, I raised my arms to attempt to pry my eyelids open. They were crusted over with sleep gunk and, most likely, blood. I couldn’t remember having showered after Billy assaulted me.
When I was finally able to open my eyes more, the room I was in started coming into focus. It was still hazy and my head hurt from the light, but from what I could tell, I was not in my own bed.
“Are you in pain? Would you like some aspirin or Tylenol? I’d offer you something stronger, but I don’t have anything at the moment.”
My body jumped again, but I couldn’t turn quickly to look at who was speaking. When I did finally see him, I froze where I sat.
I wasn’t hallucinating.
It was the man from the diner.
“No. I’m…actually, yes. Tylenol would be good.”
I felt him touch my back again and a cold glass being pressed into my hands. His fingers were pressed at my lips and when I opened them, I tasted the bitter tablet on my tongue. Bringing the cup to my lips, I felt him reach out to steady it as I drank.
When I was finished, the glass was removed from my hands and I heard the light clink of its base knock against what I assumed was a bedside table.
I didn’t understand any of this: Where I was. Why I was here. Why HE was here, most of all. Every possible reason raced through my brain and I quickly settled on the fact that perhaps I had been wrong about the man. Maybe he didn’t work in business.
He could have been an important person in law enforcement or maybe a doctor.
Both scenarios would make sense if someone had called the cops or an ambulance once Billy was through with me.
When he didn’t speak again, I asked a question to break the silence between us.
“Are you a cop?”
“No.”
“So, then you must be a doctor or nurse or something?”
The buzzing in my ears made his voice and the noises around me garbled and difficult to hear fully, but I still strained to see if I could make out the telltale beeps and whistles that usually accompanied medical equipment in the room. I didn’t feel any tubes attached to my body or any bandages, but my hand ran down the soft cotton of a gown or t-shirt that I was wearing.
I thanked god for the small favor of not leaving me naked in his presence.
He chuckled at my last statement, the sound breathy like a whisper. “I’m not a doctor…or a nurse.” He paused a beat before inquiring, “You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”
“I’m just trying to figure out why you’re here.”
“I’ll answer that question, but I prefer you not ask too many more of me. I don’t like answering to people.”
His tone of voice was suddenly harsh, a thin razor edge cutting over each of his words.
“What I’m willing to tell you is not to leave this room because it can be detrimental to both my personal and professional life.”
I nodded, even more confused now than I was before he started speaking.
“I have a habit. It’s not something that controls me, but is part of my form of celebration of a job well done. Your boyfriend, Billy, was my supplier.”
I flinched at Billy’s name.
“I’ve been coming to your house to purchase blow for the past couple of months. I had no idea you lived there. I’m still struck with the odd coincidence of this entire situation. Regardless, I had a successful business venture yesterday and decided a celebration was in the plans for that evening. When I stopped by to purchase what I needed, I heard you scream.”
A tear escaped my eye, not from pain of remembering what had been done to me, but because this man…this beautiful and powerful man…had witnessed it.
Billy’s actions couldn’t crush my soul like the disappointment of another person being present. Especially this person – he’d been m
y escape. No, I’d lived through Billy’s abuse for too many years to allow it to fracture my spirit more than it already had. However the crashing together of the two worlds, my hell and my fantasy, that sliced my soul in two effortlessly as a sharped blade though paper.
“I entered the house and saw Billy on top of you. You didn’t appear to be enjoying what he was doing. Considering the injuries I saw on you, I punched the son of a bitch, knocking him unconscious and removed you from the house.”
“Why?” It slipped from my mouth before I could stop it. Why would a man like him go through so much trouble for me?
“What have I told you about questions?”
I blinked before swallowing hard. His voice was so dark on those last words that I was afraid he was angry because I’d interrupted him.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Just remember what I tell you in the future.”
The tension in my body caused more pain to radiate from my injuries.
“As I was saying, I’ve decided to keep you here for safety. Word on the street is that Billy is looking for you. I knocked him out before he saw me so he doesn’t know to look for me. Either way. It won’t be safe for you to return home or to work. Especially in your condition.”
“I could call the cops. Report Billy, for fucking once.”
He was silent for a moment before saying, “Yes. And they could put him in jail, he could get bailed out and you’ll be dead within hours. You could get a restraining order, but what good is a piece of paper when you’re up against a fist?”
He leaned into me and I swear I could feel the heat of his body against mine.
His voice was softer than it had been before. “You’ve lived life in the gutter for some time now. Do you really think the cops will be able to protect you if Billy wanted you dead bad enough?”
He was right. Nothing would be able to help. Women living in the center of the poorest area of town weren’t exactly high priority.
“So, I can stay here?”
“Yes. You’ll be staying here.”
I felt torn apart, confused as all hell about what happened, but slightly relieved to know I could just stay in this bed and recover. It was as if the fantasy had become real, but that couldn’t be true. It was never true.
Not in this case, either.
“I have to go to work. I can’t afford to lose my job.”
“You won’t be working there again.” He paused, speaking quickly to add, “It’s not safe.”
Panic erupted inside me. Where would I go when he asked me to leave? Where would I work to support myself? It was like my entire life had been ripped apart in the course of several hours. I had no home and no money. Not even two dimes that I could rub together.
“I’m going to tend to your injuries now that you’re awake. I want you back in perfect health as quickly as possible.”
“No.” I jumped away not able to let him touch me while I was like this. I felt dirty and disgusting and I was sure he would notice. “Just – Can you bring me some medical supplies so I can tend to myself? When you’ve been beaten for so many years, you become an expert at first aid.”
I thought he was going to argue, but he simply answered, “I can do that.”
Standing up from the chair, he crossed the room, placing his hand on the knob before turning back to me. My vision was still fuzzy, but I could still make out the strong cut of his jaw and the way his dark hair contrasted against the light blue of his eyes.
I felt naked in front of him, despite the shirt. I was ugly, beaten, swollen and bruised, and he was standing there as polished and perfect as ever.
“There’s a bathroom through the door over there. I’m sure you’ll like it and appreciate that it has a separate shower and bath. While I’m gone, you should get cleaned up. There are clothes you can wear in the drawers in the closet.”
He opened the door, walking through and was gone when it closed behind him.
The sound of a lock sliding shut could be heard, throwing me deeper into a state of confusion than I’d been before.
Chapter Eight
Jude
She was here, she was mine.
At last, she was here with me.
I felt like an inexperienced schoolboy who had just told yes, the hottest girl in school would go to the prom with him.
I wanted to do the old fist pump, but couldn’t bring myself to act so undignified in front of…Ronnie….no, Pet.
She was so confused. I thought it was best to leave her for the moment. Her weakened state and ethereal beauty have had a strange effect on me.
I wanted to kill, fuck, maim, hurt…but I wanted to love, only her, but I wanted to make love to her, touch her softly and speak kind, whispered words to her.
I wanted to make her happy, and this was entirely new to me.
I shut the door behind me, left her to clean herself up and ponder her new existence. I hated using the base excuse of cocaine being the reason I was at her house, but the truth would have sent her into a panic and who knows how I would have reacted?
I turned around and leaned against the door, felt the cool wood on my forehead and listened to the soft shuffle of her moving around inside.
My cock was throbbing with need and my hands were clenching and unclenching as if by their own will.
First aid supplies. She needed first aid stuff. I was thinking bandages, creams, painkillers, and whatever else I imagined a person would need after a trauma like that.
She was so composed about it though, I admired that. Her strength went perfectly with her beauty.
First aid supplies. I forced myself to focus on getting her healed before I did anything with her. To her.
I changed out of the clothes I was wearing and put on jeans and a simple black tee shirt. I took the pick up truck and brought my kill kit. I knew I was just headed out for supplies, but that red heat had taken up residence in the back of my head and seemed to be controlling my actions.
I drove to a twenty-four hour pharmacy and picked out the few items I thought she’d need.
The clerk raised her eyebrows at me when she saw the medical supplies.
“It’s a work thing,” I said, “guys have been stealing from the first aid box, can you believe that? I’ll need a receipt.”
“Shitty,” she replied and looked too bored to question my authenticity. I paid cash, she handed me a couple plastic bags with my stuff and I headed to the truck with every intention of going home.
Although…I did have my kill kit with me. It would’ve been prudent to swing by the storage place and leave it there. The farther away I keep it, the safer Pet will be.
The problem was that the storage place was in a bad part of town; a lot of whores walked that area looking for an easy fix and fast cash. And I had this redness trying to run the show…so I should’ve probably just gone home, taken Pet her bandages and pain killers and maybe curled up behind her and held her as she slept.
But I didn’t.
I cruised slowly through the darkened neighborhood. It never made much sense, to put so few streetlights in the worst parts of towns. It was conducive to criminal activity; it was almost a fucking dare to do bad things.
I inspected them all, like a buffet of human flesh, and settled on one that looked nothing like Pet. I was deliberate in this choice at least; the hot red rage hadn’t completely taken over.
She was young, but short and dark with a thick midsection and small breasts. Her hair was spiked in a punk cut, short and sassy she probably thought, but it was more like mannish and trashy.
But under all that makeup and curled sneer was a beautiful girl. A fragile creature with the weight of the world pressing down on her. She craved relief, she needed it and I could offer it to her.
“Hey,” I said when I rolled down my window. She crossed the street towards the truck, a dim hunger in her eyes. She was an addict, but she was fresh to this lifestyle. The drug hadn’t chewed her up and spat her out just yet.
“Whattya doin?”
“Just hangin out, you?”
“Not much, lookin for fun.”
“I’ve got fun, can I get a lift?”
“Hop in, sweetheart,” I said and she ran around to the passenger side. I glanced back and forth, but the street was almost deserted. A couple seasoned pros were gossiping on one corner and a lone woman walked aimlessly across the street. I couldn’t tell if she was a junkie or a whore, probably a bit of both.
“You got a place?” she asked and wrapped her arms around herself, warming up in the heat of the truck cab.
“I know a place, but first I have to drop something off at my storage locker, if that’s ok with you.”
“Sure, whatever man, but I might charge you extra for my brilliant company along the way,” she smiled, and I note that her teeth were still nice. I liked good teeth.
“Not a problem,” I said and drove ten minutes to our destination. Her final destination if you would.
I had a tarp there, plastic wrap and drop sheets covering all my things. Once again, the red heat had planned ahead for me without me being completely conscious of it.
My head was throbbing and I had to force myself to make small talk with her. Her name was Coral, she was apparently twenty and going to school online for dental hygiene. Hence the good teeth I supposed.
She had hit a rough patch and didn’t usually do this kind of thing.
Sure sweetheart, I thought and made the appropriate noise of support but knew she was a fucking liar. She was too rehearsed for this to be new to her.
We got to the storage place and it was deserted. They had one camera at the front entrance, but I had disabled that days ago. It was still not working, the wire hung uselessly but tucked out of sight so nobody else caught on.
“You want to take a look at some cool things I’ve picked up?” I asked her when we got there.
“You want to do it here?” she asked back, eyeballing the storage locker with equal parts disgust and boredom.
