Surreal Ecstasy (29 page)

A heavy door next to the kitchen
opened up to a full bathroom. After checking out the pristine bathtub, I closed
the door and nodded to myself, satisfied with my little living space.

Who knows how long I'd be living
here?

I sat on my bed and took everything
out of my backpack, hanging my shirts in the closet area and putting my shorts,
other pair of jeans, underwear and socks in the drawer. I placed the paperback
on the desk and put my toiletries in the bathroom.

I took a short nap then headed out
again to get some groceries that would last me at least a week—bread, cereal,
eggs, butter, oil, cheese, mushrooms, chicken, fruit snacks, granola bars,
milk, juice, and some bottled water to take with me in the morning on my job
hunt.

Returning to my new temporary home,
I put the groceries away neatly. There wasn't really a pantry, so I placed my
snacks neatly on the counter, off to the side. I watched TV and promptly got
tired of that, so I read my paperback a little bit. It was a fantasy novel, and
the plot was just beginning to take off.

I had enough money to get me by for
a short time. I did have a car; if my financial situation got really bad, I
would sell it. That would give me a lot more money to put into my savings
account. I would just take the bus everywhere, which would be easy in Lynnwood and all of Washington, really. Tomorrow morning I'd buy a newspaper and go job
hunting.

Happy that I had a preliminary
plan, I was in a pretty decent mood until night fell.

I sat on the bed and looked out the
window as it got dark, peering out at the beautiful trees outside yet seeing
nothing at all. My heart was lined with strength, but inside was emptiness and
sadness—the knowledge that I'd had the exact person I'd always wanted, as
perfect as if I'd created him specifically for myself, but that somehow,
stupidly, something went wrong, and he was no longer mine.

I doubted I would ever forget the
expression on his gorgeous face as he put his clothes back on that morning,
mouth set in a straight, firm line, no longer speaking to me as if I were the
center of his universe. I would never forget that blurry, shaded view of his
profile as he, driving his car, backed out of the garage and scurried off into
parts unknown.

His words from a couple days ago
echoed through my brain: 
Morgan Constantina, I love you, just as I have
always loved you.
My heart nearly swelled but I shut down my emotions
quickly, remembering that I had to get over Ree and focus on getting a new job.

I cried for a few minutes, wiping
my eyes with the back of my hand like a child.

I must have dozed off. I awoke to a
dark, silent room.

Fear began to set in before I
remembered where I was, and how I had been sitting on my bed just as the sun
was going down.

I groaned a bit and reached over to
the back of my neck, which was sore due to the awkward position I'd fallen
asleep in—my head and back leaning stiffly on the wall. Carefully, I stood up
and felt around for the light that was connected to the bed's headboard and
switched it on. Light spilled out to the rest of the room in nanoseconds,
reminding me of the impersonal yet cozy place I'd decided to take refuge in
after the most heartbreaking morning in history.

I walked over to the window and
peered out into the darkness, seeing mostly trees. A couple of very faint
lights shone from the distance. It made me feel vulnerable somehow, so I
reached up and closed the drapes.

KNOCK, KNOCK.

My body reacted before my brain
could—I gasped and jumped about fifty feet in the air. It was a very loud
knock, emphasized by the exaggerated quiet in my room.

I shot a confused look at the door,
and was about to ask who it was when I heard a voice. "Maintenance,"
said a low, muffled voice.

Tilting my head to the side, I
continued staring at the door in wonder for another moment and walked over to
it, looking through the peephole, but I saw nothing. Not that the hallway
outside was empty—I literally couldn't see anything. "Curious and
curiouser," I muttered as I opened the door.

And right away, I wanted to close
it.

I stared, blinking in disbelief.

Adim stood there, catching himself
from falling as his weight had been on the door—he had obviously been covering
the peephole with his hand. It was impossible to miss the smug, wicked grin on
his face. It was the look of one who believed he would triumph despite all the
odds.

Like
he
was the victim.

I snapped back to reality and
started to close the door, but he'd already stuck his arm through.

"Big spic boyfriend isn't here
to save you this time, huh?" he said, walking in with his arms to his
side, looking like he was ready to fight.

Like he was getting ready to fight
me
?

Reluctantly, I backed up in order
to avoid getting too close to him, my heart beginning to pound hard in my ears.

Two quick flashes of thought
traveled through my brain at once.

The first thought was from the
past:  Adim beating me up whenever the hell he felt like it, no matter how
dedicated I was to him.

The second thought was from the
immediate future, or an idea of possibility. It consisted of me throwing myself
at Adim's feet and begging for his mercy, and him deciding to gut-punch me
anyway. I couldn't help but dwell just a little on the fact that there were a
couple of pans in the cabinet under the sink, and my heart beat double-time at
the thought of getting hit by one of those again.

And that's when it happened.

Anger flitted through my thought
processes, taking decisive control over my whole body. After I'd just lost Ree,
Adim was the last person I wanted to deal with. Who the hell was he to treat me
as if I were less than a human being, as if he had any right to control what I
ate, thought, or said?

Who the fuck was he to treat me
worse then he would a stray dog?

I was supposed to have been his
partner, someone cherished and respected. If he had a problem with me, he
should have talked to me about it instead of letting his fists do all the work.

No, it wasn't going to be like this
anymore. Never again.

I was going to stand my ground, and
never back away from him again. I wasn't afraid. We had no emotional
connection, and I had more than fulfilled my side of the relationship—over and
over again. I had given him numerous chances, always with the same, violent
results.

"Can't you ever speak
respectfully of anybody,
ever
?" God, I was so fucking tired of
hearing his racist and sexist slurs. I was tired of
him.

"I respect people who deserve
it."

I laughed at him. The thought of
Adim respecting anybody was right up there with finding Bigfoot. "What
makes Ree 'undeserving' of your precious respect?" I was already getting
tired of this conversation, but this was something I had to ask.

He gasped and looked at me as if I'd
just asked him the most inane question. "You saw the way he attacked me at
your house, Morgan," he said in a tone that clearly indicated Adim viewed
himself as a total and utter victim.

For the next couple of seconds I
couldn't say anything other than spurt out sounds as if I were about to speak,
shaking my head slightly and getting more and more confused by the second. It
was like he was telling me his real name was Bladdim and he was from the planet
Schnookus. Was he really that delusional? Did he really believe he was the good
guy in all this, after all his violent attacks and name-calling?

"Adim," I began in a
strong, concise manner, "You attacked
him
. I was there with two
other people. You cussed him out and jumped in our house like a lunatic. Ree
even told you that he didn't want to fight, but he kicked your ass out anyway,
didn't he?" I didn't want to sound too harsh by saying that last part, but
it was very irritating talking to Adim when he was being like this, and I
couldn't help it. And yeah, I'll admit that I was proud of the fact that Ree
kicked his sorry ass.

It was his turn to be at a loss for
words. I looked at him anew.

I looked at him objectively.

It was incredible to think that at
one time, this hate-filled, delusional man was the center of my universe. There
was no magnetic pull that held me to him anymore, and without the magic of that
pull, all I could see was his bitter, pathetic exterior.  

He entered the room completely and
closed the door, leaving me to panic about my next move. Briefly, I considered
my options. Should I call Bree and tell her I had a dangerous person here? He
would never let me get to the phone, much less dial or talk on it. Should I
scream? I didn't know if there was anyone close by that would hear me.

A strange expression was on his
face, a very odd mix of anger and self-pity. "All right, fine. What do you
want me to say, huh?
Huh?
You want me to say that I'm a fucking piece of
shit? Fine, bitch! I'm a piece of shit! Okay? Happy?!"

"Glad we finally agree on
something!" I spat out as I grabbed the coffee maker that was sitting on
the kitchen counter and hit him over the head with it. I'd imagined him falling
down on the floor, but it was such a tiny thing and I wasn't that strong, so it
served only to distract him.

Shit.

I subtly backed away and slipped my
backpack straps on my shoulders. Glad I had been too lazy earlier to take my
shoes off and that my vital stuff was stowed away safely inside the
easy-to-bring backpack, I picked up a chair and hit him again, aiming for the
left side of the neck, hoping I'd hit part of his face and enough of his body
to incapacitate him so I could escape.

He didn't fall to the floor, but he
did fall against the bathroom door that was partially open. Realizing that
would never be enough of a setback for me to escape, I hit him again, as hard
as I could, thinking of all the times he beat me up and treated me like his
personal property. I knew he was much stronger than me, so I forced myself to
use these bitter memories to fuel the power I needed to overcome him. I looked at
my right hand as it held the chair up over my head, and then quickly moved my
eyes to see the arm that was attached to it—that permanent burn placed there by
this asshole, this piece of crap that only had bitter things to say about
everyone and could do nothing but hate, feel sorry for himself, and then hate
some more.

I have no idea how many more times
I struck, or even
where
on his body I hit him. I thought I might have
seen a small spot of blood near his mouth, but I sure as hell didn't stick
around to find out. When he became unconscious enough for me, I grabbed my car
keys from the little square table and ran out of there was fast as my legs
would carry me, my heart pounding in my ears. I ran down the stairs so fast I
tripped a few times, but I made it to the ground level in one piece.

I stumbled to the parking lot and
made a desperate dash for my car, holding my car keys ready in my hand and
pressing the unlock button on my key fob. I didn't know if he was chasing me
and I didn't bother to look back, figuring it would slow me down if I did.

I pulled the car door open and
stumbled inside, locking all doors as soon as I could. I started the engine
immediately, backpack straps still on my shoulders and seat belt not on.
Regrettably, the tires screeched as I took off and, as I got to the main
street, I thought I saw Adim's stocky figure in my rearview mirror.

He had probably just gotten down
the stairs. Shit.

I sped up, hoping he wouldn't be
able to reach his own car in time. When the hotel was out of sight and I still
saw no sign of him, I breathed a sigh of relief, maneuvered my backpack off,
and put my seat belt on, slowing down a bit.

I headed in the direction of Lynndale Park, not knowing where else I could go at this hour and at such short notice.

It was close to closing time for
the park, if it wasn't closed already, so I parked my car on the street, about
half a block from the park's entrance. At this point, I didn't care too much if
the authorities found me and hauled me away to jail for trespassing. At least
then I would be safe. Besides, my choices of hiding places right now were
ridiculously limited. After locking my car and sticking my keys in my bag, I
put on the backpack and ran my ass off, as far away as possible before Adim
could figure out where I'd gone. The more distance I put between him and me,
the better.

I knew this park well—This is where
our families gathered for picnics every Sunday when I was a child. Milton
Newhall had been there every week as well with his family, and Jordan, his
daughter, used to hike and explore with me for hours while our parents sat at
one of the picnic tables and gossiped and ate all day. I doubted that Adim
would know the park as well as I did—I wasn't sure if he ever did anything
remotely active. There weren't any caves that I could hide out in, but trees
were plentiful, and one section was actually a forest, which was another
advantage.

I chose a plateau-like clearing to
rest on; it overlooked a good portion of the park and I'd be able to get an
idea of whether or not Adim was closing in on me. How long should I stay here?
When could I go back, if at all?

Opening my backpack, I found my
cell phone and turned it on, finding that I only had a little bit of battery
power left—hopefully, just enough to make one call. My phone beeped and blipped
with voicemails and texts, but I didn't check them. I
couldn't
check
them. Dess' voice might be waiting in a recorded message, asking me where I
was. Worse, Ree might have left me a message, saying things that were probably
much too painful to even
think
about listening to. I wasn't even close
to being in the mood for dealing with any of that right now.