Chapter 4

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Introduction

The soft sigh lifted in the empty apartment as Cassie got off the couch and walked aimlessly to the kitchen. Opening the fridge and staring intently at the half empty shelves; the reality of her need for shopping weighed down on her. But she didn’t feel like it.

Closing the door and walking back to the couch was simply an exercise in boredom. She plopped down looking at her screen waiting for the window to start blinking, signaling an instant message. The blinking didn’t come. Her grey-blue eyes scanned the room and landed on the television. Some cartoon rerun was flashing bright colors on the screen. Her restlessness was in part due to the empty apartment around her.

The other reason for her restlessness was the permeation in the apartment of his spirit. He had moved out over 6 months ago. It was actually getting closer to a year than she had realized upon previous thought. Just thinking about the duration she had been without him burned her more and more. The memory, the feel of his skin against hers, his lips on hers was fading slightly. And still she could not banish him from her dreams, or waking thoughts. To everyone she seemed alright, if a bit melancholy. To him she seemed desperately trying to recover breath and failing. How did he see this? She tried to put on a good show. She tried to make him believe she was alright, if not happy.

This failure on her part to hide any bit of herself from him made the eeriness creep on her even more. She shook her head, attempting to shake the tears from her eyes. The tears that would soon be pouring down her cheeks. She held back, focusing instead on the soft, haunting melody playing on her stereo. She swayed remembering dancing in his arms, him singing to her. Rocking alone on her couch, she realized just how much she couldn’t live without his presence in her life.

The months they had not spoken were the hardest of all. She thought about him more. Became more and more determined to be a woman that could one day fulfill the promise she had made him. To be the woman who could once again grace his doorstep in the rain. No matter where in the world that doorstep happened to be, she would be there.

Putting aside the endlessly disappointing computer she got up. She made her way to the bookshelf, with a slight shuffle, that only accentuated the graceful sway of her walk. Her fingers lightly traced the dusty black shelf and the small, red velvet bag that lay on it. The smooth fabric, and bright gold OM graced her with confidence. She would be strong enough to do this. She lifted the bag off the shelf and undid the golden strings that held it tightly closed. Turning the small sack upside down she poured the stones into the palm of her hand.

The protection stones which she had abandoned when hopelessness had creeped slowly in, now offered some semblance of strength. It wasn’t much, but to a girl who felt entirely drained it was magical. Some strange effect a few stones can have on ones outlook. Her tears dried and a fresh confidence filled her. A new determination. The same determination that came with the music as it flowed through her as she moved the smooth stones about in her hand.

Opening the red velvet bag she poured the stones back in. Putting them aside she began to dance to the track that now filled the room. The volume seemed to miraculously increase at her will as she danced. She took no notice. It droned out the screaming in her head. It made the world seem quiet. This dance of desperation reminded her how much she missed living. How much surviving just wasn’t enough.



Chapter 1

A warm breeze broke through the crisp September air as Cassie’s heels clicked on the pavement outside the Rose and Crown. Her steely eyes scanned the dark navy blue of a perfectly clear sky that was just now starting to be peppered with brilliant specks. The smell of Old Spice cologne wafted to her as she stepped passed the door Nigel was gallantly holding open for her. She nodded a soft “thank you” as the decorated red carpet greeted her stilettos.

The roaring fireplace welcomed her into a cozy lobby area. While Nigel checked them in at the desk, Cassie wandered away, entering a room with beige stone walls, deep maroon carpeting and dark polished oak furniture. Her stomach clenched and she felt incredibly energized for this evening. The bubbling feeling that filled her was a sure sign that this would be an unforgettable night.

“Cassandra, dear?” She turned on her heels in response to the all too familiar voice. She nodded and made her way toward him. They approached the stairs together, and with a slight bend at the waist and a soft gesture of the hand he made it clear that he wanted her to make her way up. “Shall we?”

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The candlelight danced across the white plate and bright silverware. Cassie watched as the crystal champagne glass mirrored flames across the crisp, white tablecloth. A soft yawn was forming in her throat and she could feel it building it’s way up to her lips. Her napkin flew to her mouth as she pretended to dab to cover her yawn.

As she delicately lifted the small desert spoon and pressed it against the fluffy desert she heard Nigel utter a small cough and clear his throat. Her eyes flew up to him and caught his grey ones. He suddenly straightened up a bit, and placed his napkin back on the table. Reaching his hand across the table, he softly caressed hers.

“This night is perfect. Isn’t it darling?” The soft notes of desperation hidden beyond layers of sincerity and love caused a light crease in her brow. She quickly relaxed her face and nodded for his benefit. The wide smile that crossed her lips was heavily dulled by the yawn that was once again forming. Fighting back the urge was difficult, yet she maintained her composure and continued to look into his loving eyes.

She began to attempt to manufacture the same loving gaze, but found it difficult. Like his writing Nigel was terribly dull. This weekend, was meant to be a surprise for her. He had planned it all perfectly. This attempt at romance was far more thoughtful than Cassie had ever expected out of any man. Yet it still fell disappointingly short of taking her breath away.

When she had first found out, excitement had overtaken her. After all, this could have been Nigel’s redemption. This calculated Anthropologist could have pulled excitement out of some hidden fiber of his being. Romance and candlelight could have led to beautifully poetic conversation and a weak kneed girl falling helplessly into bed with her incredibly thoughtful dashing lover. Instead the contrived moments and pre-planned phrases that Nigel offered, did little more than bore her. As she sat gazing with soft pity at the man before her she thought on the day he had offered her the hope, that was quickly dwindling.

She had been working diligently at her desk, attempting to finish the latest chapter before her deadline. His hands had wrapped gently around her eyes and a chuckle formed in his throat. She had pulled his hands down and began turning to kiss him. Before she ever had the chance a large envelope had been placed in her lap. After a questioning look, and a nod from Nigel she had torn the thick paper open to reveal reservations to the Inn for two nights. In her excitement she had thrown the envelope on the table and jumped out of her chair into his arms with an excited squeal.

The memory made the smile on her lips a bit more genuine and she worked to catch his eyes now. As grey met blue they looked longingly at each other and both his hands came across the table to hold hers.

“You look absolutely ravishing tonight Cassandra.” His fluid voice glided over her as the candle flickered lightly from his breath. A light squeeze to his hand and a kind smile was her only response. In the year they had been together he had never received much more for a compliment. When they had first met she would blush brightly at any such attempt, now at least she accepted them quietly. Though she never said much he knew that she always enjoyed hearing them.

Cassie fidgeted lightly still feeling uncomfortable with the compliment and the persistent use of her given name.  She had spent years trying to escape the use of that name, choosing instead to be called a simple 'Cassie,' and though it was pleasant to hear on occasion that he found her attractive, in all honesty it had never been a pleasant feeling. Something reminiscent of a sinking feeling deep in her heart. Telling Nigel, however, was out of the question. She cared for him, and watching the hurt look in his eyes and hear the whine that his voice would surely take on was just too much for her to bare. His reaction to her objections had led to many fights, so she had learned to avoid the confrontation.

The man was quite intelligent; A professor of Anthropology at Durham University as well as a published author. Cassie had always suspected that in order to have such a brilliant mind Nigel must have a bit less humanity to compensate. Though he loved, it felt calculated, as if numbers and not feelings were involved. To Cassie this had made him fascinating at first; a mathematical equation to be solved. Once she had deciphered the solution, he had become plain to read and slightly dull. She kept waiting for a change or a surprise but none came.

Nothing about this man ever changed, nothing grew. His books continued on the same incredibly predictable path, his stories had no surprise endings or twists, but simply followed a linear path. The only thing that redeemed him were his eyes. Where the rest of him was calculated and followed strict rules and formulas, his eyes hardly ever held the same look twice. Though a plain grey, they often shocked her a bit with their sincerity and power. As he continued to study her she could only think on how those eyes had saved him many times when he should never have gotten her.

Their first meeting had been and utter irritation to her, until she caught site of those unspeakably captivating eyes.

A hand on her shoulder and Nigel’s other one extended in front of her startled her out of her fantasy world. He had noticed Cassie zoning into a world that was not one he currently shared and was hoping to bring her back by offering her, her passion.

“A dance my darling?” His deep voice held a soft smile in it, and as she looked up she was not surprised to see a small grin cross his lips. Placing her gloved hand in his she stood gracefully, adjusting her emerald, floor length dress. Upon reaching the small polished wooden floor Nigel spun her and caught her with a hand on her back. A move he knew to be her favorite, and one that she had taught him.

The twirl pulled Cassie into his arms and left her forcing herself to meld to his form and inhale his familiar scent once again. The spin had been one she had taught him to break up the simple two or three step dances they seemed to repeat time and time again. Nigel’s abuse of it, left Cassie fairly bored with the move now. It was no longer a shock, no longer something exciting. It was expected and as bland as every other move her offered her.

Cassie followed his every step, his every gesture in the dance. Her back arched and her neck extended in a picture of grace, while Nigel, though he tried barely kept rhythm. His soft, gentle demeanor meant a hard time of leading her as well. She was strong and in some ways almost feral, while he was kind and sweet. Leading was a sign of control, and as he lacked control in every other aspect of their lives together, he lacked it on the dance floor.

She had grown accustomed to the routine they played and let herself melt a bit more into his form. Though boredom often overtook her, excitement was not something to be longed for. She realized with Nigel she was safe and provided for. Everything with Nigel was predictable and expected. Everything was simple, at least as long as things kept at the same pace they had been. In his arms she could easily exist and not worry about being more.

Her feet tangled a bit as he stopped moving. He quickly threw an arm out and caught her in something almost resembling a dip. Bringing her back to her feet he kissed her cheek and took her both her hands in his. Slowly he lowered himself from his feet to one knee.

Cassie stumbled back a step and gazed at him in wonder. Though she had grown to read him fairly well, this was a moment that left her utterly shocked. She had wanted excitement for the evening, and she was receiving her wish.

“Cassandra, darling, I love you so much. I can’t bear to think of life without you., and I want to spend the rest of my days with you. Cassandra will you marry me?” As the words effortlessly slipped from his lips in the rehearsed speech, he reached in a pocket pulling out a box of red velvet, and fumbling to get it open.

Gently, she held the velvet box in her hands and stared at it blankly, thoughts rushing aimlessly about.

The shock with which this vivid memory his her, sent shivers through Cassie’s entire body. The differences between the men were undeniable, and while Nigel was safe, her heart didn’t flutter at the sight of the ring. He clearly wanted something more than she could ever offer.

Cassie’s eyes began to tear up and one of her hands flew gracefully up to her now partially opened lips.  Her fingers lingered, tips pressing lightly to her lip. A light gasp emerged from her mouth, as she closed the box, feeling the velvet between her fingers. She gently lifted his hand up and slid the box back into his palm.

“I’m sorry, Nigel. I just really can’t!”

Chapter 2

A child’s shrill scream broke into Cassie’s thoughts, breaking apart a fantasy world she’d been building for the past six hours. With a quick turn of the head, she could see a family that appeared to be having a welcome reunion. A young man, no older than thirty was lifting a small, blonde girl in a frilly, white and pink frock, high over his head. What appeared to be the mother of the child watched with a bright smile as she ran her hand over his back. Cassie’s stomach tightened at the sight of the blissful moment. It hit hard to see what she had been imagining only moments before.

She readjusted the strap of her only carryon bag and began walking, in response to a disgruntled grunt from behind her. Back in Missouri she would have turned and uttered a “Sorry” while giving a warm smile and a quick nod. In New York she walked quickly and avoided eye contact. The years and miles she had put between herself and the city hadn’t changed a damn thing. The people still unfriendly, the air still cold, and the cabby’s still vying for your business.

Her steely-blue eyes scanned a crowd of unfamiliar faces until she found one holding a sign with her name on it. Remembering to call ahead and make a reservation for a cab ride, she was prepared. She made her way toward the dingy jacket, grey hair, and clearly foreign accent, nodding at him to signal recognition. The smell of cigarette smoke and salami hit her nostrils as he uttered her name in an almost unrecognizable fashion. Her weary nod was response enough for him and he spun on his heals and gestured for her to follow him.

Beyond the glass double doors, the cool, smog filled air hit her lungs with a force she had not expected. Every honk and belligerent yell echoed in her head with the potential migraine she felt coming on. As the blood rushed to her head in a beating pulse her light sneakers hit the pavement, carrying her closer to his illegally parked cab.

The slam of the car door as she slid across the seat, finally shut out the angry city, and Cassie could pretend she was back home. The only lingering reminder was the rank stench of cheap cigarettes. Her head flew back and hit the seat behind her, resting there as her fantasies flooded back to her.

“Where to?” She lifted her head slowly meeting his coffee stained smile with unblinking eyes. She could have sworn she had told the cab company the address of her hotel when she had made the arrangements. Reaching into the front pocket of her jeans, she dug out the card containing the hotel information and handed it to him. He nodded, starting the car and beginning to pull into the dense traffic and smog. Her head rested back on the seat, as her eyes shut and a much more welcome world drifted back to her.

Along with fantasy insecurity clung to her as the city lights reflected off the dark glass of the window. Through closed doors she could still hear the honking and conversations of strangers. She could feel their feet hurriedly on the pavement, taste the dirty air they inhaled, feel the humid, smoggy air on their skin. It made her feel lonely to be in this crowd. When she had been younger and subjected to suburban bliss, she had wished to escape as far as she could. The furthest large city was never far enough. Now, after years of people surrounding her, she wished for nothing more than the white picket fence.

“Ma’am?” The thoughts had preoccupied her to the point that she hadn’t felt the slowing or stopping of the cab. Her eyes fluttered open as her hand was already digging in her pocket for cash. The grungy old man noticed the gesture and nodded. “Twenty eight dollar”

Pulling her money out she counted out thirty five and handed it to him. “No change!” her drained voice rang out for the first time since she had entered the city. Sliding out of the cab she felt the urge to smoke a cigarette. Though she had quit years ago, her need for one was almost desperate. She looked up, with a sigh, at the 30 story building that held a room, with a soft, though overused bed, a hot shower, and a pay-per-view channel.

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To Nigel’s dismay the door hadn’t opened all night. He had hoped that after she had cooled off she could come storming in and apologizing. Hell he had hoped she would say yes. Instead the room remained dark except for the light coming off his cell phone. His hand gripped tightly to the electronic device willing it to ring.

His fingers began the dance they had been doing all night, once more, only to end by canceling the call before the first ring. She needed to call him, and she would. His Cassandra loved him and it would all work out.

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Her sneakered feet hit the dirty sidewalk, as she made her way down the street to the subway entrance. She cringed, stepping on something less solid than she had expected. Lifting her foot she saw only an old coffee cup, and relaxed. The smog still weighed on her, but breathing the humid muck had become slightly easier. Her body began readjusting to city life.

Her brisk pace matched that of most everyone on the streets, which were still filled with life at four in the morning. The cigarette craving had grown to be too much and the decision to go for a walk had been an easy one.

Her blond hair bobbed in a short ponytail as soon as the stairs, leading beneath the city, appeared beneath her feet, and her paced increased to a jog. The silver bars that separated her from the platform gleamed in the poorly lit underground cavern, but she had no use for them yet. She made her way toward the set of small windows in the wall. Beside one a man was buying a subway card from a rat-like woman that sat behind the bullet-proof glass. In the other a dark skinned man sat in front of a display of lottery tickets and cigarettes.

“Marlboro Smooths and a lighter please.” She handed him the indecent amount of cash necessary for such a small purchase and he pushed the cancerous evil through the small opening in the glass.

A lit cigarette between her lips she made her way back up the stairs into the New York City nightlife. People milled about, going about business that she should have found fascinating, but had no urge to know. She inhaled deeply as she walked past a bum sitting in raggedy clothes and holding a cup out to her. Slowing her pace, and pulling out some change from her jeans she dropped it into his cup. Whether he used it for food, or alcohol didn’t matter much to Cassie. After all, she wasn’t going to do much better with it.

Walking past the lights and closed store displays the writer in her should have been going wild. After years away from the city there was so much to see, so much to decipher, to analyze. Her imagination never took over though. Hardly noticing anything around her except the dirt, traffic, and the stone cold faces, she zoned out. Memories began running wild guiding her to her purpose for coming. She was led down a path she had dreamed time and time again the last two years.

Fear gripped her, closing her throat and sending her into a coughing fit. The smoke she’d been inhaling, burst out in a cloud, as she doubled over holding her stomach. As the cough subsided her fingers released the butt of her cigarette, letting it tumble to the ground. She ground it in with the rubber sole of her shoe, and continued her walk, pulling out a new one and lighting it on her lips

Half a pack later as the sun was beginning to rise and the soft pink hues colored the city, the streets began to fill with a different crowd and she stood before her hotel once again. Every business suit, tailored and neat that walked by her seemed to rush more than the night crowd. The bustling city reminded her even more of just how tired she had become. Sleep had eluded her for the better part of forty-eight hours, and she was surprised to find herself still able to walk. Making her way to her room hey lids were beginning to shut of their own volition. As she collapsed on the king sized bed, and her heavy lids finally won the battle, sleep crept in, releasing her from her thoughts.

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The chilly weather had forced her into a light jacket. Her hands now rested in the pockets as she quickly made her way down the street toward the southern tip of the Island. Somewhere along Houston Avenue her destination awaited her, in the form of a brick six story building.

Her steps on the soiled sidewalks were hurried and her very demeanor was twitchy. She had her cigarettes in her pocket and she fumbled with them constantly, but was far too fearful to pull one out. Her scent had to be her own when she saw him. The grime of the city would already be enough to muddle it.

As the sun made it’s final dip below the horizon and a dim grayness began to overtake the streets, as the streetlights began to flicker on, she stood looking up at her brick opponent. The door had a lock on it and a buzzer beside it. Making her way inside should have been more difficult than to simply dart in as a middle aged man stepped out of the building. He was alone and well-dressed; a man too busy with his own life to ever start a family.

She listened to her steps echo on the tile as she made her way up the lemon and bleach scented hallways and stairs. The compact building had narrow stairs and halls and no elevator. Another virtue of the city she had never missed. Being so closed in always made her frightened and slightly on edge. Now, when her stomach was already pulsing and clenching, the situation almost sent her into dry heaves. The mint flavored gum that she continuously snapped was the only thing keeping her from finding the nearest trash can.

At the end of the fifth floor was a small wooden door with at least three locks and a golden 5E plastered in the center. From where she stood at the top of the stairs, the black and white tiled hallway seemed to stretch for miles. Inhaling a deep breath of bleach, she took her first steps toward the door.

Half way down the hall her heart started. You’re crazy! Absolutely nuts! What the hell are you doing here? She stood still in the empty hall, and waited for her heart to stop racing and her conscience to either talk her into or out of this decision. “You’re nuts! He’s going to laugh and you’ll be broken!” She spoke aloud for the first time, maintaining only a whisper for fear of being heard through paper thin walls. A quick spin on her heels and she took a step back toward the stairs. “No! I need to do this.” She spun again and walked briskly down the hall.

Face to face with the door she lifted her hand slowly to the wood. She imagined the grains in it, the feel of the aged door, as she continued to struggle for a solution. She could smell the scent of something spicy being cooked inside. It was a familiar smell, and she longed to get a better whiff. Her knuckles poised to make contact with the wood she stood in the empty hallway.

Chapter 3

She could hear a lock being worked from the other side and the door swung open to reveal a shirtless Sean standing in front of her.

“Who is…” he looked up as the door finished it’s swing and his eyes widened.

“Hey. Long time no see.” Her soft voice echoed loudly behind her.

The television muttered an infomercial as it lit the living room with a faint blue light. The only other sound in the living room was the quiet breathing of the girl passed out on the couch. She lay peacefully curled up, sleeping contentedly. She had only fallen asleep about an hour before waiting for him to come home. her mind had raced with worries when he didn't pick up his phone. She had waited patiently until the dark, warm night got a hold of her. Her lids heavy and her body tired she had laid down to get more comfortable and within moments was asleep.

The keys jangling in the door startled her from her sleep. Sleepily she smiled and raised her head off the couch. As the door creaked open she was sat up and looked out for him.

“George? Is that you honey?” Her voice was soft and gentle. She expectantly watched for him to come.

“Yeah baby, it’s me. How have you been?” He shut the door behind him and walked over to the couch. He sat down beside her and glared at the tv. The alcohol on his breath worried her and the smile on her face faded. Worrying she slid closer to him and put her head on his shoulder. He seemed angry, whenever he drank he got angry. There was the one time he’d hit her, but that was just the one time. She had made him mad, and he reacted, he was hurt and upset. She knew excuses were of no use but he’d never hurt her again. He still scared her when he got angry, especially when he got drunk.

He turned his head and looked at her. He kissed her forehead and gently placed his hand under her chin. As he tilted her head up he leaned forward to kiss her. The alcohol on his breath almost made her nauseous. She kissed him anyway, not wanting to make him upset. His other hand moved swiftly from his own lap to her waist as he pulled her closer. Forcing her to lean backward onto the couch he pressed forward. She knew what he wanted. Any other night she would be more than willing, but he was drunk and she didn’t want what he had in mind.

She forced back sitting up and pushing him away from her. The kiss was ended and he looked at her baffled.

“Honey maybe we shouldn’t do this tonight? I’m really tired and you’re just so...” She trailed off as his face became less calm. His soft compassionate face became angrier again.

“I’m so what?” His words cut her. She knew how much he hated being told he was drunk. She didn’t know what to say. His eyes were so hurt that she felt like crying. Scared she scanned his face, searching for something to say. The longer she thought, the more she noticed his jaw tense the way it always did when he was upset.

“I’m so what? So drunk? So out of it? So what ‘honey’? Why are you suddenly not in the mood tonight?” Angry flooded him and raced through him with his blood. His arm tightened on her waist. If the bitch suddenly got resistant, fine, he’d take it anyway. One second she’s hot the next she’s not in the mood. Fuck that. She’d be in the mood. He grabbed her waist even harder and pulled her toward him as he kissed her hard. She pushed him away as she screamed.

“No! George stop it. I don’t want to.”
“C’mon Liz.” He spoke harshly and a wicked smile spread across his lips. He pushed her back and tore open the shirt, his shirt, she had been wearing. Most of the button came undone but a few flew off and scattered on the hardwood floor with a soft clanking sound.

She looked at him shocked. He’d never been like this before. Her eyes wide she froze beneath his weight. For a moment she couldn’t breathe as he looked down her. AS he leaned in to kiss her again she shoved back with all her strength rolling him on the floor. He looked up at her as she scampered off the couch and over the back to get to the floor on the other side. For a second she stood with the shirt open, just breathing. He saw her perky breasts and tight stomach and her toned legs, turning him on more than ever. She noticed him looking and hurried to shut the torn shirt.
He stood up and looked her in the eyes. She looked scared, but he could see her calming down. He looked at her calmly trying to plan his next move. She wouldn’t get away with turning him down.

He was finally calming down. She relaxed a bit, figuring he had gotten the point. She looked at him for a minute before turning and walking down the hallway toward the bedroom. He saw her leaving and leapt over the couch landing hard. She turned to look at him confused and angry and kept walking. He followed her grabbing her arm and turning her toward him. She looked at his hand pressing so tightly, she could already feel the bruise forming. As she felt her body flying towards his she raised her other arm and threw it against him. It landed painlessly on his chest, but made him angry enough to shove her letting go of her arm.

As she flew forward to wall she turned her body enough to not hit her face. Her shoulder hit the smooth white surface and the stinging pain rushed up and down her arm. Her head slammed sharply against the wall making her slightly dizzy. She backed up until her back was against the bedroom door. He stood just feet away glaring at her. Her hand was already wrapped on the door handle behind her. She didn’t lower her eyes from his. She turned it slowly so as not to make a noise. The door flew open and she rushed inside and behind the door pushing it shut.

He took a few rushed steps forward and pressed his weight on the door to keep it open. His hand was on the handle as he raced himself to push the door open. Suddenly a sharp pain shot from his forearm. Surprised he looked down to see her fake nails stuck in his arm. Her hand was no where to be seen as the door slammed and locked beside him. He pulled the nails out of his skin and saw the blood rush down his arm. The bitch would pay. How dare she hurt him.

“Liz you bitch! Open the damn door!” His scream echoed into the room. The locked door would keep her safe for now. She looked down at her hand. Her fingers were covered in blood where the nail had pulled skin off and broken her real nails. The pain was almost not enough to matter. She was about to panic. He had never been this way before. He had never intentionally pursued her to hurt her. She backed away from the door and stood in the middle fo the room for a moment trying to regain some composure. She walked across the room and sat on the floor by the bed. Reaching up to the night stand she grabbed the phone and looked at it as she listened to the tone.

He looked at the door and let the rage slip over him. The bitch had hurt him, he had to teach her a lesson. He spun on his heels and walked toward the kitchen. In the cabinet he found a screwdriver. He grabbed it and walked back to the bedroom door. He began working the lock open. Jangling the doorknob to test if it was open.

She heard the jangling and began dialing. The operators voice calmed her a bit, but the panic was already rising in her throat in the form or a knot.

“Please help, it’s my husband, he’s trying to hurt me! He tried to rape me and now he hit me. Please send someone!” She sobbed into the phone knowing that it was almost impossible to understand her.
“Ma’am, calm down. Someone will be right over if you just give me your address.”
“7214 West Palmer Street. Please hurry. Please”

He could hear her voice on the other side. Whore was on the phone. His mind was swimming with rage. He finally go the door and it popped open. He stood in the door frame and glared at her for only a moment. He walked around the bed and grabbed her.

The phone fell from her hand as she landed on the bed shaking it. She didn’t let the impact startle and kept rolling landing on the floor beside the bed. What was wrong with him? By now her mind was racing, her thoughts getting lost as quickly as they came. She needed a way to stop him. She needed a way to scare him. She scrambled for the night stand and grabbed for the drawer. The black metal reflected the light from the lamp. She grabbed the fully loaded .22 Magnum and wrapped both hands around it. She turned slowly pointing the gun at him. This would scare him. He wouldn’t hurt her anymore. He’d just back off.

She was doing something. The stupid bitch had a plan.

“Liz, baby what are you doing?” She could hear him sneering. He walked toward her cautiously. He stopped short only when she turned and the barrel was staring at him. He stared at her with wide eyes. Her own were brimmed with tears now.

“Don’t come any closer! I swear to God, don’t come any closer!” Her scared eyes revealed her soul. She would never shoot him. Her hands were shaking, and her body was unsteady, but she stood with the gun pointed. He stepped toward her and reached out his hand.

“Don’t!” The scream echoed as his hand touched the barrel.

“Ma’am? Is everything alright? Help is on the way. Ma’am?” The phone was still out of the cradle and the operator was trying to reach her.

His hand on the barrel he was reaching for her arm with his other hand. She’d never shoot him. She loved him too much. He grabbed her wrist and was about to pull forward when her hand tensed. He felt the tension in her arm and the stinging pain at the same time.

A warmth spread over her hands and arms. Her eyes had been shut for the shot and now as she opened them and looked down she saw a deep red liquid spattered over her arms. She screamed louder than ever before. His face, pained and contorted stared at her as he curled up and crumpled to the floor. She screamed again and ran to the phone. Grabbing the receiver she listened for the operator.

“Ma’am?” That was all she needed.
“Hurry he’s shot! Please hurry! Oh my god.” She started crying and babbling into the phone incoherently. How could she actually shoot? How could she hurt the man she loved? It was all her fault. Her mind spun as she got up slowly dropping the phone where the operator was still trying to calm her down. She walked out of the bedroom not even glancing at her husband on the floor. Her hands touched the wall as she walked down the hall smearing blood all over the white paint. She reached the couch in a daze and crumpled down putting her face in her hands. She felt the warm blood and jolted upright from the sensation. The doorbell rang and she ran for the door. She opened it and stared at the young athletic woman before her. The officer’s uniform comforted her. The tears flowed down her cheeks and she fell to her knees in front of this stranger. The young woman grabbed her by the shoulders and looked her over.

“In the bedroom. Please?” Liz pleaded with the officer. Two young men rushed in after the young officer. One also in a uniform the other dressed differently. Probably the paramedic. The young woman gestured for them to move on as she helped Liz up. The men rushed past them as Liz sat on the couch again. Her mind was spinning and she was crying. More people rushed in and out all around her. Finally two men carried her husband out on a cart with tubes. She rushed at him to hug him crying and fell short as the young woman grabbed her waist. Liz sat crying. The man she loved was being taken away to the hospital. She was bloody and dirty. How could she have fired? He didn’t deserve this. What if he died? The tears just kept pouring as she mumbled the whole story to the officer.

She sat on the couch 30 minutes later after Tina, the young female officer had cleaner her up. She sat sobbing and watching everyone rush around her with business to attend to. Tina was gone to take care of some things, since Liz had managed to calm down a little. Liz got up and calmly walked to the kitchen. Surprisingly there was nobody there. She reached for the cabinet and opened the door. She pulled several pill bottles down and poured a handful of pills onto the counter. She poured herself a glass of water and swallowed all of them. Tina walked in just as the glass fell from Liz’s hand. She rushed toward Liz and grabbed her as her body began to collapse.

The pain shot through George as he shuffled in the hospital bed. He turned his head as his eyes opened only to see his wife in the bed next to his. Tears formed in his eyes. Her eyes fluttered and she looked at him. Their eyes met and she held his gaze. She started crying too. His eyes held a promise to her to never let that happen again. Hers swore to never let him try.