Inseparable Strangers (2 page)

My head fell back
against the headrest, and in my peripheral vision the guy still stood in the
rain, waiting for me to acknowledge him. His long, ragged coat was soaked, and
rain poured off the brim of his hat.

“Please go away.
My car broke down and I don’t have any money,” I hoped the panic on my face
wasn’t obvious. Thankfully, the raindrops on my window somewhat marred my
reflection. “The cops should be here any second,” I yelled, hoping he was able
to hear me over the heavy rainfall.
Do not make eye contact.

He said something
back but I was unable to distinguish his words. His voice sounded muffled
through all that damn facial hair. He moved his hands in a small circular
motion. Was he doing sign language? What was he trying to say? When I ignored
him, he tapped his finger against the window and motioned his thumb down. Was
he crazy? Did he actually think I was stupid enough to roll my window down and
let him murder me?
Hell no.

“I’m okay. The
cops are on their way to help me. Thank you for stopping though,” I yelled out
to him, hoping he got the hint. I pulled my eyebrows together for a second as
another pain shot through my head.

“I can help you,”
I thought I heard him say.

Was he serious
right now? Did he seriously think I was going to open my door for him?

As if he read my
thoughts, he yelled over the wind and rain, “I’m not going to hurt you. I just
want to help you.” He leaned down to my window giving me a perfect view of his
endless green eyes. I was still unable to make out the rest of his features,
but his eyes stared back at me with shiny, but eerie kindness. “If you have a
spare tire and a jack, I can change that blown piece of rubber for you,” he
offered.

Did God hear my
prayer and send me another angel? Nobody was this nice. Nobody.
He’s
probably thinking I’ll reward him
. A light bulb went off.
That’s it, he
wants money
.

Feeling brave
enough to have a conversation with the stranger, I shouted loud enough for him
to hear me. “How do I know you’re not some crazed serial killer?”

He held his hands
in front of him to show no harm. “Listen, Miss, I have no intentions of hurting
you. I see you are in a tough situation, so I thought I would offer my help. If
you want to sit here all night and wait out the storms, fine by me. I’ll be
happy to leave. If you want to get to wherever you were going in such a hurry,
then pop the trunk so I can change that tire for you.” His tone was cordial,
but the way he threw that slur about me being in a hurry left me feeling
annoyed.
Is he upset because I didn’t stop for him? Is he bothered that I
became a roadblock in his path going to who-the-hell-cared?

His hidden mouth
made it difficult for me to read him. His gentle eyes seemed harmless enough.
Without getting a better look at his facial features, I wasn’t one hundred
percent comfortable in believing his friendly intentions. My motto was an eye
for an eye. An old saying I’d learned fast during my days of high school. Since
I blew right by him walking in this treacherous weather, he might cut my brake
lines just for shits and giggles. You couldn’t trust people in today’s world.
No thanks to people like him, I was the devil in disguise; I knew how this type
of shit worked.

Reluctantly, I
pushed the trunk release button. The stranger stepped toward the back of my car
when he heard the trunk pop open. My car slightly shook as the man rummaged
through what I was assuming my leftover shopping bags, piles of clothes, and
shoes to find the spare tire and jack.

After waiting what
seemed like forever, I heard my trunk slam shut, and I watched him roll the
spare toward the front of my car. The front end slowly started to lift as he
began the process.

The weather
outside had no remorse on the vagabond. In fact, the rain was coming down in
sheets rather than drops, and the lightning lit up the sky as soon as the thunder
rumbled. At one point I feared my car might get struck. Perhaps I should’ve
feared for the man, but I didn’t. Like I’d said before, he was just another
piece of shit out on the streets sucking up all the income the working class
fought so hard for.

Since scumbag had
nowhere to go and nowhere to be, he was taking forever, making me beyond bored.
Finally, I felt him lowering the driver’s side.
Oh, thank you, God. He’s
finally finished.
He was back by my window motioning for me to open the
trunk again. I pushed the button for him, and the car shook while he hopefully
placed everything back without stealing any of my personal belongings. Maybe
that was the payment he’d take, after all.

I started my car,
and already had it in drive when the strange man tapped his knuckles against my
window. My finger pushed down on the lock button just to make sure both doors
were still secure.

“You were lucky.
That tire was ripped to shreds. Somebody was apparently looking out for you
today.” I smiled and nodded before stepping on the gas to get away as quickly
as possible. He had no idea just how true his words were.

Looking in my
rearview mirror, I watched the drenched man on the side of the road until I was
unable to make out his form any longer. Some people would claim I was a
cold-hearted bitch, which I was, but I wasn’t about to take a chance on having
my throat slit for a simple tire change.

As I pulled into a
parking spot at the dealership, I had already forgotten about the homeless
creep who’d paid his service to me by simply being alive. After I cussed the
guy at the front desk out for putting shitty tires on my car in the first
place, I drove back home with a new set they sold to me as “top of the line.”

My dinner date
with Victoria that was supposed to end with an evening of shopping got
canceled. As much as it disgusted me to use the dealership’s personal phone, I
sucked up my prideful OCD and explained my tire mishap. And my quick stop at
the Verizon store for a car charger was top priority before going home.

Later on that
night, as I lay in bed dozing off, a set of mysterious, green eyes stared at me
behind my eyelids.
Oh no you don’t. You’re not even going to give me the
guilt trip for not giving you a ride. Don’t you dare think you’re going to
invade my dreams.

With that last
thought, I was out for the night.

“Is this how you
repay someone for helping you?” The bearded man gritted through yellow-stained
teeth. His breath was disgustingly pungent against my cheek. His wet-clad body
decreased my oxygen level as he pressed all of his weight onto my back. “If you
don’t have the money then I’ll happily take what I can get from that sweet,
rich pussy of yours,” he growled in my ear.

The tip of the
pistol ground into my neck as I felt him pull his filthy jacket away from his
body with his other hand. “Please. Please don’t hurt me,” I begged. “I—I’m
s—sorry,” I cried, fearing for my life.

His hand fumbled
around my ass, and the sound of a zipper caused warning bells to go off in my
head. “No, no, please don’t.” I squirmed, trying to get out from beneath him.
The barrel of the gun sunk deeper into my skin as I began to violently shake. A
stab of pain shot through my neck, but I knew he hadn’t pulled the trigger.
Yet.

A gasp escaped me
as I felt his calloused fingers graze along the inside of my panties. He cupped
me between the legs and squeezed hard. “This is about to become mine. Do you
understand?”

I wanted to
scream, but who would hear me? “If you so much as say one word, I’ll put this
bullet through your juggler and laugh as you choke on your own blood. I get off
watching a slow, agonizing death.” He slowly dragged his tongue up the side of
my face. “You got me?” All I could do was whimper. Streams of tears cascaded
down my cheeks. My thoughts were cluttered in fear, but I knew I was right not
to give him a ride after he helped me.

My panties burned
against my hip as he tried to jerk them off of me. Once I heard a snap, the
sting lessoned. His rough hand lowered down between my thighs and pushed my
legs apart. Unexpectedly, I felt him force his way into my back entrance.

“Oh, God, no!” I
cried. With an ear shattering explosion, I was taken from my nightmare.

I shot straight up
in bed like a rocket. Sweat lined my hairline and my lungs screamed for air.

Breathe.

It’s not real.

Breathe.

It was a dream.

Breathe.

He’s not here.

Breathe.

You’re safe.

The silence
floating around in my dark bedroom brought chills over my skin. I flipped my
comforter off and stepped down onto the cold hardwood floor. The bathroom door
slammed shut behind me, causing me to jump. My big toe caught onto the corner
of the sink and an excruciating pain shot through my entire foot. “Son of a
bitch!” I shouted through clenched teeth.

“Fuck! Shit! Damn!
Hell!” I whined, hopping around on one foot until I was able to reach the
toilet.

The half-moon shone
into the bathroom, but it wasn’t enough light to assess the damage. Deciding to
investigate further, I hopped back over to flip the switch by the door. I eased
the door open and peeked into my bedroom.
Am I seriously looking for the
boogey man?
The air stopped blowing from the ceiling vent, and that’s when
it dawned on me — it was the suction from the air conditioner that caused the
door to close on its own. Maybe the old saying my childhood pastor used to say
was true, ‘if you were living right, you wouldn’t be scared so easily.’

I stepped back
into the bathroom, gathered a cotton ball, peroxide, and a Band-Aid, then
settled myself onto the edge of the porcelain garden tub. The cut between my
toes was bigger than I’d expected.

After cleaning up
the blood, and bandaging up the wound, I lightly padded back to my bed in hopes
of falling into a dreamless sleep.

~~~

Avenged
Sevenfold’s,
Nightmare
blared from my radio, waking me from a peaceful
sleep.
How ironic.

Pulling the plush
comforter from my face, I reached over to turn the alarm off. Dozing on and off
for a little while, I’d been unable to shake my thoughts from the night before.
I shook my head as I thought about the horrific nightmare that crept into my
dreams. People often say your dreams are born from thoughts or issues plaguing
your subconscious. My subconscious shouldn’t give a shit, just like how I
don’t.

Dreams weren’t
ever part of my nightly ritual, let alone nightmares. I’d always chalked it up
as being brain dead once my head hit the pillow. To my surprise, last night
proved to be different, but why now? Was it my run-in with the freakish
stranger? I swear they were like parasites scrounging around in our leftover
filth. Nothing good could ever come by befriending them. If I’d given that weirdo
a ride last night, I was pretty sure my nightmare would’ve become a reality.

There was no time
to waste. I was meeting Victoria in an hour and I was nowhere close to being
ready. After showering, I pulled on a cobalt blue cashmere sweater over my grey
leggings, complementing them with my Black Diamond Sabika earrings and
necklace. Finishing up by stepping into my heeled boots. Bringing my height
even with hers would prevent her from looking down on me. I pulled my wild, red
hair up into a messy ponytail, dabbed rose tinted gloss on my lips, and swiped
the mascara brush across my lashes once. Sighing, I noticed the mascara only
enhanced the dark bags under my eyes, giving them a black eye effect.
Hopefully, my black Ray Bans and long, slender legs will help detract any
attention from my sleep-deprived eyes.

Walking away from
my full-length mirror, I looked over my shoulder to make sure my ass was
covered by my sweater just enough to still show the bottom of my ass cheeks.
Stepping out of my house without looking immaculate wasn’t an option. I never
knew when I might bump into Mr. Tall, Dark, Fuck Me I’m a God. Not that my
social game was in play, or my sex life was alive, still, you never know. A
woman should always be prepared to bump into her future husband when she’d
least expect it. Victoria would shit her pants if she saw me with new meat.

To have woken up
in the middle of the night scared out of my mind, I was in an unusually good
mood this morning. But then again, a day full of shopping usually did make me
feel like a queen. No thanks to dad, I wasn’t going to have as much to spend
because of those damn tires.

I wasn’t sure when
or how it started, but somewhere along the way, Victoria had always felt like
we had to compete with one another. Whether it was who wore the smaller size,
who wore the most expensive brands, or who had the cutest boyfriend. I expected
this visit wouldn’t be any different. With that in mind, I stepped on the
scale. A moment later, I stepped off with a sigh of relief. Three pounds under
my goal weight even with being fully clothed. Let’s see Victoria beat that.
With a smirk on my face, I headed to the kitchen. Grabbing the kale and
strawberry smoothie, I stepped out of the door.

Slipping my Ray
Bans onto my face, I walked out into the bright sunshine which held promises
for an awesome day of shopping. The storm from yesterday blew in a cold front
making the air unseasonably cool for this time of year.

My Mercedes purred
to life, and I wasted no time traveling down the familiar road to our favorite
restaurant. It was a little hole in the wall, but they served up the best pecan
waffles in the entire state of Virginia. And because I’d worked my fat off, I
was entitled to splurge. The scale told me it was okay.

Since it was still
before noon, I was lucky enough to find a parking spot right up front. As I
stepped out of the car, a sudden chill washed over me, and once again the
bearded creep swept across my mind. Pushing him out, I opened the door, and my
nose tingled with the delicious smell of fresh ingredients.

Surprisingly, I
arrived before Victoria, so I found us a seat toward the back so we could be as
animated as we liked without gathering irritated stares. I went ahead and
ordered. If Victoria was anything, it was never late. She always made sure she
was prompt for any date. She wasn’t late today, it’s just I was that early.

When she waltzed
into the restaurant, every man’s head turned. Her sleek auburn hair barely
swept past her shoulders, and her porcelain skin glowed with the perfect amount
of makeup. She looked straight ahead, ignoring all the lusty stares from the
men and the evil stares from their significant others.

As soon as she
spotted me, she rushed over, clicking her heeled boots against the tiled floor.
“Lennox!” she exclaimed. “It’s been forever.” She hugged me before I could
stand from my seat. She gave me one of those hugs where you sway back and forth
like young couples do during their first school dance.

“You smell
lovely,” I said while she slung her coat over the back of her chair.

“And you look
beautiful as always,” she replied, returning the compliment.

“So, what have you
been up to? Any new beau’s?” Why did I know her first question would be about
my love life? She always enjoyed gouging me on my lack of guys.

Giving her a
sarcastic smile, I took a sip of my water before answering her. “No. There’s no
one around here worth fooling with. I need to move away if I want to find
someone who’s on my level.”

She snorted. “I
see nothing’s changed.”

“What’s that
supposed to mean?” I asked as I took another sip of water to avoid from saying
something nasty. Her remark perturbed me.

“It means you set
your standards too high. If you’re ever going to find someone, you need to come
down from your high horse and learn how to mingle with the common folk.”

Her comment
deserved an eye roll and that’s exactly what it got. “Yeah…sure, and when did
you become the spinster whisperer?” I asked sarcastically. “I’m not old. I have
plenty of dating years left.”

She shrugged. “I’m
just saying.”

“Well, since
you’re gouging me about a boyfriend, I guess that means you’ve met someone?” I
asked, raising an eyebrow.

A smile beamed on
her face. “You know me well, cuz”

Oh boy, here we
go. I could tell the giddy ‘oh I’m in love’ spill was about to come.

“He’s so amazing.
He’s gorgeous, a complete gentleman, and he is the CEO of a software company so
you know what that means…,” she gushed with excitement.

“Yeah, he’s old,”
I said with little enthusiasm.

She threw her
wadded up straw paper at me. “No, dummy, he’s loaded. Don’t be jealous, you’ll
find someone worth your while one day.”

This conversation
was going nowhere fast. Quick to change the subject, I picked a topic we both
loved equally—shopping. “So, what stores do you want to hit after we eat?” 

 Three hours
later, and two thousand dollars less, I walked back to my car carrying a couple
of bags filled with two pairs of jeans, a pair of black knee-high boots, and
the cutest pale pink scarf covered with tiny purple skulls. If daddy thought he
was punishing me by not buying my damn tires, then he was painfully mistaken.
Speaking of the tire incident, I couldn’t wait until he got home from his
business trip so I could tell him how he nearly sent his daughter to an early
grave.

“Bye, Lennox,”
Victoria shouted out to me as she set her bags in the back seat of her car.
“I’ll be over in a couple of days.” I smiled and waved back. She better not
discuss my dating life with my father. I didn’t need him on my back about a
future son-in-law. 
What the hell was I thinking when I told her she could
stay at my place for a night?

The horn on my car
beeped twice when I pushed the lock button on my keychain, and I stepped into
Starbucks for my daily Skinny Vanilla Latte. June, the barista rang up my order
without me having to tell her what I wanted. After she’d asked me on my fifth
day in a row ordering my usual, I told her she was a thirty-something still
working at a coffee shop because people like her were too idiotic to hold a
more educated job. She hasn’t spoken to me since. As if that were to make a
difference to me. Hell, if anything I enjoyed not having to hear her whiny
voice again, but I did make sure I watched her like a hawk while she prepared
my scrumptious coffee sans any foreign liquid.

I stepped out on
the sidewalk, sipping my coffee and minding my own business when a toddler
walked right into me. The little boy was so busy running from his mother, he
didn’t see me step outside. His chocolate ice cream made direct contact with my
knee before sliding down my pant leg and landing on my very expensive boot — my
favorite pair at that. Anger coursed through my veins and my hands clenched
into fists. “Ahh!” I screamed, causing the little brat to cry. “My boots!
You’re little shit just ruined my six hundred dollar pair of boots!” The cool,
late summer air now sizzled around my body.

“Excuse me?” The
frumpy mother with bags under her eyes and a ragged ol’ navy blue sweat suit
approached me as she rubbed her son’s head to soothe him. Her lips curled inward
into a thin line, and a crease formed between her eyes. “That is a two year old
you’re cussing at,” she spat out through clenched teeth.

I narrowed my eyes
at her to let her know she didn’t intimidate me. “You heard me, white trash. If
you’re going to become a mother, then you need to learn how to keep your boy on
a harness. I’m not a parent and even I know they make dog leashes for kids.”
Again,
another reason why The Purge is such a phenomenal idea.