The Forever Series

by Trilina Pucci

  Alex locks the door behind us and looks to me for some kind of explanation.

  “Please, we have an intruder! Send someone, please.” I say in a rush to the 911 operator. Alex goes to my closet and flings open the doors, grabbing the bat I keep in there for this kind of occasion. She holds it up, defensively.

  As I give our address to the operator, I can feel the stinging tears running down the abrasions on my face. Alex reaches one hand back and I clutch her hand, but she quickly releases my hand to hold the bat, like she means business.

  We wait an eternity, both of us remaining silent, sucking in tiny breaths as if to give the perception that we’re not there hiding behind the closed, locked door. The next sound we hear is the police banging on the apartment door, announcing their arrival.

  “Thank God. We’re in the bedroom!” Alex screams, dropping the bat and turning to hug me.

  The 911 operator confirms the police have arrived and we hang up. Alex and I stand clinging to each other in a silent realization of what just happened.

  It only took my mom and Richards a short time to arrive after I called them. Weaving their way through the crowd of officers they join Alex and I on the couch. God, this scene is becoming too familiar. My mother in hysterics, Richard consoling her, and me, being admonished for living in a shitty neighborhood. This time I have Alex to deal with too.

  “Maybe we should just move uptown. I mean, I get it, this neighborhood has character and it’s affordable. But I’m fine with selling out our trendy edge if it means staying alive. I’m just saying,” Alex helpfully points out. Traitor.

  I sigh in defeat. Why am I even fighting this? If I’m being honest and not stubborn, I’ll

  admit that I’m scared as hell to sit another minute in this place. This is twice in one week that I’ve been violated on my home turf. I look at my mother and see the fear in her eyes. It’s too much. I begin to cry, and she pulls me into her arms, stroking my hair.

  “You’re right, Mom. I’m not safe here and I promise we can look for a different place, but for now I just want to check into a hotel. Preferably a room without windows.” She gives a small smile and a nod.

  The police are collecting evidence while my dramatic family situation unfolds. I look around my house, watching the officers dust for prints and look for evidence of a break-in. My thoughts are interrupted by someone calling out for an evidence bag.

  “Careful, get me some gloves,” the detective says. “I think we may have found our weapon.”

  Weapon? What the hell? I immediately feel sick to my stomach. I can feel my mother’s arms tighten around me.

  “This is not happening,” Alex says as she looks at me with fear, pure terror. I look past her to see what has caused her tan face to turn ashen. It’s a knife, lying on the floor, directly behind the curtain. Knife is the wrong word; it’s more like a mini-machete.

  “My God,” my mother breathes, and Richard immediately asks to speak with whomever is in charge.

  We all watch Richard navigate what seems to be an intense conversation. I stare at the mini-machete. Every once in a while, he gives us a reassuring nod and glance. After a few moments, he walks back and says in a commanding voice, “Young ladies, go and pack a bag. I will have the rest of your things packed and stored until we find a suitable and safe place for you to live. For now, we are free to leave.”

  I have a million questions, but judging by his tone, it’s best to do as Richard says. I have always felt safe around him. He and my mother married a year before I left for college. He has always respected my boundaries, and I know that he will take care of me, if only because he adores my mother. I rise and walk into my room, past the flurry of officers who have seemingly taken over my living space. It is such a strange thing to feel like a guest in your own home.

  When I go back to my room I sigh with relief for something familiar and unchanged. I sag into my bed and notice the light on my phone is lit, showing me it’s come back to life.

  Crap. It’s Jack again. We haven’t spoken since our ill-fated run-in as he was leaving another girl’s apartment. I had honestly forgotten about him.

  Right now, I pick up the phone and hit the call button. “Mia,” said the deep voice on the other end. “Yes?” My voice barely containing my irritation.

  “Mia, don’t. I’m sorry. Why haven’t you returned my phone calls or messages, or any of my texts for that matter?”

  You’ve got to be kidding me. Is he serious? He decides to screw the slutty girl from Apartment C and I’m the asshole? I’m the jerk for not wanting to hear his excuses? He has messed with the wrong girl!

  “Are you kidding, Jack? Excuse me for not wanting to hear the sordid details of some gross, STD-filled night with the floozy downstairs. And while we are talking about my avoidance of you, it’s because I was almost killed twice in the last five days!” The last part comes out as a yell, and I surprise even myself.

  “Jesus, Mia!” He sounds frantic. “Tell me where you are, tell me what happened. Are you ok?”

  I hear the sound of keys jingling in the background. Is he trying to be my knight in shining armor? This guy is a joke.

  “I’m fine, Jack. Obviously still part of the living. My mom and stepdad are here, they’re taking Alex and me to a hotel for the night. I’ll call you tomorrow or in the next few days and we’ll talk. I promise.”

  I’m not sure why I’m being so generous, maybe it’s the panic in his voice that makes me feel bad for him.

  “I wish you had told me sooner that you have some crazy happening in your life. I want to be there for you, if you’ll let me. I care about you, Mia, but I always have the impression you want things to remain temporary between us.”

  I sit kind of stunned, because I know what he’s saying is true. This is only temporary. I’ve never let him spend the night or meet my friends and family. Can I really blame him for hedging his bets?

  “Jack, I don’t have it in me to talk about this right now. I’ll call you when I get settled at the hotel. Thank you for caring, but I need to get some sleep and wrap my head around some things.”

  “Okay, but if you need me, any time, Mia. I mean it.” He seems sincere, like he cares, which is not the curveball I was prepared for.

  When I first met Jack I wasn’t attracted to him right away and being messed up after my ‘situation’ last year, I didn’t want to take anything too seriously. For the last month or so it’s been fun and casual, just what I wanted, except sometimes he looks at me with this intense stare, and it creeps me out a little. When I seen him leaving my neighbor’s apartment, I figured it was done, but here he is, acting like my boyfriend.

  Too much to think about right now. I don’t have time or stamina for the likes of Jack today. We hang up and I finish packing just as Richard peeks his head around the door.

  “I’m ready,” I say with a conjured smile.

  “Good, let’s get going, kiddo.” He smiles at me, but I see the worry in his eyes. My mom is probably driving the poor man crazy.

  Richard has already called his driver around, so we rush out into the car. Once inside you can cut the tension with a knife - or mini-machete… Jesus, why would someone bring something like that into a house, into my house? The thought gives me chills and I shiver a little.

  “Are you cold, love?” My mother asks.

  “No, I was just thinking about tonight.”

  “Richard, what was the officer saying to you tonight? I mean, he didn’t seem to be asking a lot of questions, so what exactly was he sharing?” I keep my focus on the passing cars in hopes my nonchalance will make him want to spill.

  “He was speculating about the break-in, in light of the fact that nothing was actually broken into, they believe the criminals probably just used the window as an exit, opening it from the inside.”

  “Hold on,” Alex pipes up. “Are you saying that they let themselves in, like they had freaking keys to our place?!”

  “That’s one theory,” Richard re
plies.

  “It was the muggers, the guys from the alley. I had my keys in my running bag.” I suddenly feel sick, this is all my fault. I should have known better than to take that stupid shortcut. “I should have known better than to keep my keys in my bag. Jesus, I could have gotten us killed! I’m so sorry, Alex.”

  Alex grabs my hand and squeezes. “Wait, Richard, you said that was one theory. What are the others?”

  We all focus our attention on Richard, who adjusts himself in his seat to take on a more casual appearance, with one leg crossed at the ankle. He seems to be bracing himself for the response.

  “They found cigarette butts on the balcony of the apartment. Old butts… Considering I know neither of you smoke, that tells us someone has been watching you. If the assailants are the same people who attacked Mia in the alley, they have more than likely been preparing for the job for weeks. There is a chance they’ve been in your apartment before tonight.”

  My mind begins to spin and my stomach turns. I lay my head down in my mother’s lap and Alex squeezes my hand again.

  “You keep saying ‘they’,” my mother points out. “So you think there’s more than one person involved?”

  “The police said they have an eyewitness who saw two men fleeing from the scene.” Richard looks out the window of the car, and we all sit in silence for the remainder of the ride.

  I sit on the edge of my hotel room bed in the fluffy hotel robe, grateful for the hot shower I’ve just taken, and even more grateful to be staying on the 36th floor. They’d need Spidey powers to get to me here!

  It’s been a harrowing night and I managed to keep it together through my goodbyes with Richard and my mother, plus the twenty hugs Alex bestowed on me before we turned in. After everything that’s happened, I’m dreading this phone call to Jack. Just as I’ve been trying to pull my life together, this week’s drama is not boosting my confidence for a call about having a relationship. My life has literally been on the line and yet, I’m a chicken about speaking to Jack? Why does the thought of speaking to him make me so nervous? This is why I need to swear off men. They cloud my judgment and blur my perspective.

  I look down at the phone in my hand and wonder what the hell I’m going to say. The vibration startles me and I jump. Calm down, Mia.

  “Hey!”

  “Hi!”

  We sit in silence for what feels like an hour, until I break the ice with, “Whatcha doin’?”

  “Are you kidding, Mia? I’m freaking out, that’s what I’m doing. My girlfriend tells me that she has almost been killed, twice, and then says she’ll call me later! What the hell, I’m worried sick, Mia!!” Girlfriend, holy hell.

  “Look, I’m sorry, Jack, there’s been a lot going on and I am overwhelmed. I should have called earlier to explain, but in all fairness I was in the hospital, all my things have been stolen, and my cell was dead.”

  Before I can finish, Jack yells, “Hospital? Dear God, Mia. What the fuck happened to you?”

  I guess I should have introduced that better. As I go about explaining, he relaxes on the phone and angry boyfriend turns back into worried boyfriend.

  “What hotel are you at? I’m coming and don’t give me any excuses. I need to be with you now.” I can tell there isn’t any hint of negotiation here, so I relent.

  “Okay, it’s room 3606.”

  “Be there in fifteen.”

  We both hang up.

  I knock on Alex’s door but she doesn’t answer, so I let myself in anyway because I don’t want her to be afraid if she wakes up and hears a guy’s voice in the room. It isn’t likely she’ll wake up, she was clearly in the beginning stages of a drug-induced state. I can’t really blame her after the night we had.

  “Alex,” I gently shake her shoulder. “Alex, Jack is coming over. Okay?”

  She opens her eyes ever so slightly and nods, then rolls over and puts a pillow over her head.

  I hurry back to my room, to freshen up. For what reason, I’m not sure. I don’t really know what to expect. I originally gave in to his charm because I thought that if I didn’t agree to a date he might never leave me alone. Jack is persistent in a way that is a cross between endearing and irritating, but he hasn’t pushed any further into my life than I’m willing to share. He’s been happy to watch movies and cuddle. Since last year, I haven’t had in it me to let anyone get too close physically. I was a healthy sexually active adult before, not a slut, but not a prude. I was confident as a woman and I enjoyed sex. Enjoyed being the operative word.

  In one horrible, disgusting theft of a moment, my self-esteem along with my body were ripped to pieces and I can’t seem to recover.

  I was proud that I looked my attacker in the eye and acknowledged his crimes. I held my head high. I didn’t look like a victim, I appeared strong. But what good is it all if I can still feel the bruises? I shake the thoughts out of my head each and every day, a monumental internal struggle, the battle against my inner demons. Now on top of trying to get past that drama, I take a simple shortcut home from a run, and get mugged? Suddenly I find out that stalkers have been casing my apartment leading up to jumping me and smashing my head in? It’s just too much. I can’t make sense of it, and my head hurts.

  At that moment, the doorbell rings. I barely get it open before Jack sweeps me up and hugs me fiercely. I can’t help but return the embrace. His feelings are intense and contagious, but the pain makes me wince. I can’t be squeezed. His face rests in the crook of my neck, enveloping me in his scent. I feel suffocated and that makes me feel guilty, but I push away anyway.

  Before he lets me go, he ever so slightly inhales my neck and leaves a feathery kiss under my ear.

  “How are you?” He asks.

  “Still a bit sore.” I smile weakly.

  He instantly releases me, looking apologetic.

  “No, it’s ok, just not so tight.” I could actually do with being let go altogether, but I don’t want to hurt him when he rushed over here to see me.

  “I can’t believe this all happened to you. How’s your head? Should you be lying down?”

  “I’m okay, I just need some rest. Let’s go cop a squat on the couch and we can talk.”

  When we sit on the couch, he unexpectedly pulls me onto his lap and wraps his arms around me. I don’t know why, but I start to cry… to sob, actually, until my face is stained with tears and his shirt is wet. I cry until I feel empty and I can’t cry anymore. He gently rocks me and smooths my hair, kissing the top of my head. He holds me without saying a word.

  I don’t know, why he was leaving that downstairs apartment the other morning, and sometimes Jack is intense, but right now, tonight, I needed this. I’m glad he’s here.

  I fall asleep in Jack’s arms, feeling numb and detached from all the shit I’ve been through, but it doesn’t stop me from dreaming. I’m walking along a path lined with trees. The sky is clear and sun is shining. I’m following the man, that man with the familiar face… the one I can’t seem to hold onto. I’m smiling, taking his hand, following him to the edge of a cliff. As we get there, he looks at me and says, “Jump.” I shake my head no.

  “Jump!” He says, but he seems different.

  “Jump, I’ll take care of you.” The voice doesn’t match the face. Who is he?

  “No!” I yell and try to pull my hand from his. That’s when the face changes, and Jack pushes me off the edge.

  I wake with a gasp, instinctively trying to sit up but pinned down by a heavy leg and arm. I take a breath to get my bearings, and cuddle closer to Jack, feeling the warmth of his body. I don’t understand the dream but remembering last night how he just held me seems like enough proof that he won’t push me off a cliff. I’ve been holding him at bay, fighting protective instincts that may have nothing to do with him, and maybe all this time he’s been exactly what I need. We still need to talk about Miss Slutty from apartment C, but I am not nearly as pissed as I was before.

  I kiss the tip of his nose to wake him, reminded
of how handsome he is - a defined jaw line, strong and masculine, which matches the description of his body. My favorite parts of Jack are those gorgeous green eyes that rest between two rows of enviable black lashes. His sandy blonde hair compliments the olive in his skin tone. All in all, traditionally handsome, like a frat boy.

  He smiles while his eyes are still closed, like he knows I’m checking him out. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning, yourself.” I like this. I want this. After eighteen months of feeling lost and unsettled, I am craving routine, a sense of nesting.

  “The day is yours. I assumed you are out of commission for a while, so I took today off.”

  “You are very full of yourself, mister. Assuming I will spend the day with you just because one night you are the perfect boyfriend.” The B word comes out before I can stop it. My eyes squeeze together, to help me bear the embarrassment, but when I open them he is still smiling at me, eyes lit with amusement.

  “You got me! That was exactly my goal. No, what are we going to do? Let’s have the best day and try to erase the nightmare of last night.” He looks at me solemnly and in a whisper adds, “I need to know that in some way I’m helping you past this.” In that moment, I know he will be the one to steer my heart back in the right direction. I kiss him deeply, because for the first time in a while my heart is full.

  He sits up, stretching his arms like a cat. I admire his back, strong and sexy with the exception of some scratch marks by his right shoulder blade. I reach up to run my fingertips along the welts, cringing at the thought that maybe this was from the neighbor. I’m immediately irritated and grossed out.

  “Nice touch, you should tell your pussycat to cut her claws next time.” I turn my back to him.

  Jack looks over his shoulder and smiles, “I’ll tell myself. This isn’t from another woman, Mia, but I’m glad to see you care.” Smacking my bottom, he turns me over and hovers over me kissing my ear. I have a nagging feeling there is more to that story, but Jack is clearly trying to distract me, and it’s working. His kisses on my neck are currently sending chills down my spine, in a good way, but I need a few days to heal from head trauma and I know my limit. Anyone acting like he cares so much is here to help me rest and feel better, not trying to get lucky.