Hidden Heart (35 page)

An urgent need to hold onto
her desk for fear her knees would give in made her grip the edge of
it with white knuckles. Horror spread through her body, threatening
to strangle her. The headache intensified so much, her vision
blurred.

“
Oh my God, oh my God, oh
my God…” her voice down to a whisper she didn’t recognize it. She
collapsed onto her chair, forcing her eyes to focus and shaking her
head in denial. A swarm of feelings and emotions overwhelmed her
like a herd of bulls out of control before hitting the arena for
the final bullfight.

Tessa stared at the photos
until each image was imprinted in her head, she could still see
them even with her eyes closed. When she felt able to walk, she
stood, shoved the photos and the report back into the envelope and
went to the front door. She grabbed her purse, her cell and her
keys and slammed the door behind her.

A rapid rain hit her like a
cold shower and by the time she got to her car, her shirt was
soaked, making her shiver. She drove away, holding onto the
steering wheel with both hands, honking for the other cars to move
faster, switching lanes abruptly and causing chaos behind her, but
she didn’t care.
Whoosh, whoosh,
whoosh
—the wiper blades washed away the
rain from her windshield, permitting only few seconds of clear
visibility.

At the next stoplight she
seized her cell and pressed the speed dial number.

“
Hi, this is Tessa, Tessa
Cosma; I need to see Mrs. Iancu immediately. It’s an
emergency.”

“
Mrs. Iancu is with a
patient at the moment and will be busy for the reminder of the
afternoon. I can get you on her calendar tomorrow afternoon,” the
even voice said at the end of the line.

“
Miss, you don’t
understand; it’s an emergency,” Tessa said, her voice choking
up.

“
She’s booked. As I said,
she has an opening tomorrow afternoon.”

“
God dammit, lady. I said
it’s an emergency, I need to see her as soon as possible; I can’t
wait until tomorrow!”

Someone jumped in front of
Tessa’s car. She stepped on the brakes with such force, the car
came to an abrupt stop. She hit her chin on the steering wheel and
saw green stars—literally. She heard a muffled noise as she hit
something, then a scream. Her neck snapped and pain spread into her
spine, down her back. Terrified, she glanced out the window, got
out of the car, hurrying in front of it. A teenager lay on his
side, holding onto his knee and screaming in pain.

“
I’m so sorry, are you
okay?” Tessa bent and tried to support his head in her lap. Then
she saw blood on her hand and freaked out. She saw a man
approaching and when he got in front of her car she said, “Please
call an ambulance!”

“
Yeah, right, like you
really believe he’s hurt. He is a gypsy, an idiot who didn’t pay
attention. Push him over and let’s move,” the man yelled at
her.

Tessa’s eyes darted from
the man’s face to the teenager’s, who at the man’s words, began
crying for help.

“
You can’t be serious,
right? Get some help, please!” Tessa said.

“
You stupid cow, are you
going to drive or what? You’re blocking the traffic, move!” he hit
the hood of her car with his fist. When he saw she didn’t stand up,
he kicked her car with the side of his shoe and yelled, “Are you
deaf? Move!”

The sound of cars honking
came at her from everywhere and more people approached, forcing
Tessa to snap out of her shock. She looked down at the teenager who
stopped screaming for help, then around her—it felt surreal. She
took the teenager’s head from her lap and helped him sit resting
against the sidewalk; she stood, her fists clenched at her side.
She so wanted to smack that rude man’s face

“
You call me stupid? Who
gives you the right? Why did you hit my car?” her voice sounded
calm—too calm for the situation at hand.

The man took a step back,
humphing and hitting her car once more. He brushed a hand over his
face wiping off the rain, his brows drawn together, a look of
defiance plastered on his mug.

“
What, you one of those
women who thinks she can drive?” he said, laughing and looking for
approval from the people around them. “Or better yet, I bet you got
your driver’s license whoring around with the police officer,” he
said. His big round gut shook with the rhythm of his
laughter—gross—as he walked backwards to his car and mimicking oral
sex.

Tessa looked around her.
Other drivers stepped out of their cars, looking at the scene,
others continued honking. The rain stopped and Tessa saw the sun
peeking shyly from somewhere behind the curtain of heavy clouds, a
glow around her. Blood stained her shirt. She walked towards the
man swaying her hips, her head slightly bowed, and looked at him as
if she would try to seduce him. The man’s facial expression changed
from arrogance to confusion.

Tessa looked down at the
man—at least a head shorter than her. She placed a hand on the
man’s shoulder and whispered in a slutty voice, tilting her head
closer to his ear, “Would you like for me to whore with you, too?”
She straightened and smiled seductively at him.

The man swallowed hard, and
tried to smile. He nodded in anticipation.

“
Well then, take
this
,” she said, and,
raising her, knee she hit him in his crotch with a short but
powerful kick. The man groaned and fell to the ground, holding his
crotch with both hands.

“
This,
my friend,
will teach you how to show
respect to women.” She looked around her, hands on her hips, and
waited. A woman close by began clapping, followed by other people,
including men.

Tessa walked back to the
boy, knelt next to him and put an arm around his shoulder. She
heard an ambulance nearby and police sirens. “We’ll get you help
soon,” she said, smiling at the teenager.

***

“
Cristian, I need to see
you,” Tessa said and took two glasses out of the cupboard.
“Whenever you get this message, no matter how late, come to my
house. See you later,” she said and hung up. She walked to the
fridge, pulled out a bottle of white wine, opened it, poured it
into a glass, and drank it at once. She poured a second one and had
half of it, smacked her lips and went to the bedroom. She rummaged
through her closet and pulled out of a drawer a red, skimpy satin
halter and matching kimono wrap, then headed for the
bathroom.

Her face stung when the
water hit it; five stitches on her chin, three on her left temple,
both spots hurting like hell. She turned around and let the water
wash over her hair, down her body—hopefully it will wash out her
thoughts, too.
Don’t think. Don’t
think.

Twenty minutes later, she
was all dressed and pampered, ready for Cristian to arrive. She
swallowed two painkillers for the splitting headache as well as the
throbbing forehead cut. She topped her glass of wine and drank it
to the bottom. She closed her eyes and drummed her fingernails onto
the countertop.
Don’t think. Don’t
think
.

A slight dizziness fanned
out into her head.
Maybe I should eat
something
. She grabbed an apple took a bite
out of it, and went into the living room. She turned on the
CD-player. The sound of soft music spread through the house. She
lit the candles scattered all over the room, and then turned off
the lights. She sat on the sofa, chewing on the apple.
Don’t think. Don’t think.
She finished her wine and
closed her
eyes.

She stood when she heard
the doorbell, walking over to open the door. Her feet felt heavier
and the room seemed to spin.

“
Ah, my friend Cristian. I
was hoping you’d come quickly,” Tessa said, her words slurring as
she opened the door, her kimono skewed, holding onto the
doorframe.

“
Tessa, what in the world
has happened to you?” Cristian said.

She took a few steps
backwards for him to enter the house, then locked the door behind
him. She squeezed her eyes and opened them immediately, then
purred, “It doesn’t matter. That’s not why I called you.” She took
his hand, walked into the kitchen and before handing him a glass of
wine, took a sip out of it.

Cristian took it and placed
it back on the counter. He lifted the hair off her forehead and
said, “Did someone hit you? Are you in pain? What happened?” he
traced the bandage on her left temple, and lifted her chin. “Did
you have an accident?”

Tessa made a grimace, then
took his hand and placed it on her own face. “I have a booboo and I
need Cristian to take care of me.” She stood on her toes, embraced
his shoulders and between kisses, she whispered, “Take
me…”

Cristian stood speechless
in the middle of Tessa’s kitchen. When she opened the door and he
first saw her so beautiful, dressed so scantily, yet so damn sexy,
he felt as if he won the lottery. At first, he thought she was
excited and nervous about having him there, but then he saw her
stitches and realized something was wrong.

She kissed him, rubbed his
neck, brushed her fingers through his hair and pressed her hot body
against his. Her erect nipples pressed against his chest made him
breath hard. He forced his mind to stay clear while his body
responded to hers as he expected it would if they’d ever have
sex.
If
. But he
knew she was drunk, probably medicated, and that wasn’t how he
wanted to have Tessa.

She told him how she felt
about him, about their relationship, but no matter how attracted he
was to her, he’d never take advantage of someone in her
state.

“
Come, let’s get you to
bed,” he said pressing a finger on her playful mouth—God, she was
the best kisser ever! He removed her arms from around his neck,
taking a step back.

Tessa leaned against the
countertop and lifted his glass. Before he stopped her, she
finished the wine in two big gulps. She licked her upper lip, then
bit the lower one. She threw her head backwards and laughed
mischievously. She grabbed a handful of his shirt and walked
backwards, “You naughty boy, can’t wait to have me, can
you?”

He played along and walked
with her until she stumbled onto her bed, with him on top of her.
She bit his lower lip, sucked on it. He tried to push up, but she
looped her left leg around his right, pushing her lower abdomen
against his. She lifted her head to reach for his mouth, but he
turned his head sideways. “Tessa, you have to stop,” he said, his
voice ragged.

She stopped for a second
and stared at him with glassy eyes, looking confused.

“
Come on, Cristian, this is
what you wanted it, isn’t it?” She wrestled him again, entwining
his legs with hers and, pushing a hand underneath his shirt, she
rubbed his nipple.

Cristian held his breath.
If he didn’t get away from her, he’d be unable to control himself.
With the last bit of will power he could muster, he grabbed her
wrist and removed her fingers from his nipple, then pinned both her
hands above her head.

“
I don’t want to do it. Not
like this, not when you are drunk. You need to sleep,” Cristian
said, got up and, peeling back a corner of the bed covers, he
tucked her in.

He went into the kitchen,
opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. He didn’t stop
drinking until he finished it. He rested both hands on the table’s
edge, catching his breath and willing his erection to calm down. It
hurt like crazy. But what hurt even more was that he knew Tessa
didn’t want him for real. She needed to be drunk first.

He looked at the empty wine
bottle; he grabbed it and threw it away. He smelled candles. He
walked through her house, into the living room and blew out the
candles. He turned off the CD-player, then walked to her bedroom.
Her rhythmic breath told him she was asleep.

Cristian pondered if he
should leave or stay and decided to stay put. He had never seen her
drink alcohol, not even a sip, but tonight she went overboard. She
must’ve been in an accident, but he wondered how good of care she
received, knowing the Romanian medical system. He found her
painkillers and counted them—twenty left out of twenty-four. He
wondered if she took all four of them at once or if she ate
anything; he hoped she wouldn’t get sick.

Cristian heard the
unmistakable noise made by someone vomiting. He rushed to Tessa’s
room, turned on the lights and saw her resting on her left elbow,
squinting her eyes, a puddle of vomit next to her, her gown soaked
in it.

The smell made Cristian’s
stomach turn upside-down, “I’ve got you, girl, I’ve got you,” he
said, helping her get up.

***

Someone was at her door.
Tessa heard the key going in, turning twice, then the door opened
and closed slowly. Then someone twisted the key and locked the
door.

She swallowed the bile
taste in her mouth and willed her eyes to open, but they refused.
Her head hurt so much, she held her breath for a moment, then began
breathing in and out with long and deep breaths. The headache
didn’t disappear, but at least the drumming sound eased
up.