Christine Zolendz - Brutally Beautiful

I was dead-ass laughing. I had to think of more puns quick.  “You didn’t mind when my shaft was driving you up the wall last night.”

“Yes, I recall being in between a cock and a hard place,” Sam quipped.

“Yep, the best damn cock climber I ever saw,” I smiled.

“This is like pure punishment,” she laughed.

“Well, I am the punisher,” I said, locking my eyes on hers.

“Yes, my ass still stings nicely,” she smiled.  How the hell did that woman think I was going to let her walk out of my life?

The elevator doors opened to Dylan’s floor and both women exited, laughing.  I had three thoughts as I watched her walk out.  One, I needed a sandwich.  Two, I wondered where the best hiding spot was in this hospital to fuck Samantha.  And three, how the hell was I going to get her to stay in this town?  I wanted her to be with me, no one else was going to have her.  Period.

Creepy?  Yes.  Possessive?  Absolutely.  We all know I have issues.  I. Don’t.  Care.  What.  You.  Think.  I wanted her.  She was the only person in this world that I had ever met that made me think differently about things.

My brother was sitting in one of those reclining hospital chairs next to a window when we walked in.  The luckiest man I knew.  Who else gets shot twice in a bar fight, and the bullets hit nothing important? He looked great, too. The color was back in his face, his smile was bright and they were already feeding him solid food.

“I’m so sorry that I brought trouble with me,” I heard Sam say to him as she sat softly on his bed.

“It was worth it, just to get to see my brother as much as I did, and to see him smile.  I wish you’d stay.”  His eyes glanced at Jennifer, “Jen told me about everything, but I still wish you’d stay here.”

“I can’t, Dylan.  I can’t have any more people hurt.”

Hearing her say the words so decisively tore at my insides.  Pulling up a visitor’s chair, I slumped into it and detached myself from the conversation, from the smiles and the laughter, from the world, wondering if any of this was worth fighting for.

I only registered a bit of information they discussed.  Samantha wanted to change her appearance, dye her hair again, and they bickered over colors.  Jennifer spoke a little about the shooter, and then there were some mentions about states like Montana and North Dakota.  Then at some point, I couldn’t even tell you when or how long after we got there, Sam and Jen went to get coffee in the cafeteria and I was left alone with my brother staring at me.

“Kade, mate.  Don’t let her go,” he said.

“What?” I asked, waking up from my self-induced coma.

Dylan leaned forward, clenching his face in pain and repeated, “Don’t let her go.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Make her feel safe here.  She can’t go out there on her own,” he whispered.

I laughed bitterly, “Actually, I think she can.  She’s probably the only woman I ever met who could take care of herself on the run for the rest of her life.”  I stood up, stretched and walked to the window.  My rage lay just an inch below my surface.

“Do you care about her?” He asked.

“Bloody hell, yes,” I replied.  Bending down to face him, trying desperately to hold back my anger, I sneered, “She doesn’t want to stay.  End of story.  I’m not a hero. I have no safety to offer her, I can’t even think of anything, except tying her up and locking her in my bloody basement.”

“Fine, Kade,” he mumbled, as the girls walked back into the room.  “I guess after she leaves, I won’t be seeing you for another couple of years, huh?  It was nice to have you bloody visiting.”

Samantha handed me a warm cup of coffee, but I didn’t even taste it.  I just sat back down in the corner and hunkered down in my fictional thoughts, where I had more control over everything.  It was easier to breathe that way.

After we left Dylan, I drove her to the store. The day had turned to night and the darkness of it lay heavily on my shoulders.  “So how did you meet David?”

“Why?”

“I have the right to know,” I snapped.

“Why?”

“Because I’ve already thrown my heart out for you.  Already stripped my soul bare for you, so I want the same in return.  I want to know the person who is going to destroy me completely!”

“Does it make you feel better yelling at me, driving faster, gripping the wheel, clenching your teeth?” She asked.

“No.”

“Then fucking stop it.  You got something to say to me, say it.  Don’t yell at me because of the situation I’m in when my hands are tied.”

“Now, I’m fucking thinking of you tied up.  Just tell me the story, no more games.  You’re leaving right?  Tell me something more!”

She turned her head to look out the window.  The disregard for my feelings and her looking away cut me deeply.

“David and I developed a tumultuous relationship over one too many glasses of champagne at one of my father’s hospital parties and our affair was fast and furious.  I looked at him through rose-colored glasses, complete with lens flares and animated floaty hearts. I loved him, I really did. The easiest thing in the world was falling in love with him.  I fell in love so fast, head first, feet first, heart first, doesn’t matter; it’s so damn easy to fall.  The hard part was where I landed in his life and how I needed to hold on to who I was.  But I fell in love with a complete lie.  I never really knew the person he was.  Let’s just say that he and Thomas would have been a great team.”

The parking lot of the store was unusually crowded.  I pulled into the only empty spot, stomped out of the truck and slammed the door as if I was throwing a tantrum.  “We will finish this fucking conversation!” I snapped.

“Oh, wonderful. I can’t wait to continue. You’re so lovely to talk to about all my secrets.  Just a real sensitive being, you are,” she snapped back, storming into the store.

Pushing the cart through the store, she was like a NASCAR driver, and you know it has that one fucking wheel that spins around in madness on its own accord, tripping her up and calling attention to itself with its whines.  But she was determined.  She was determined to get all the fucking shit she needed to change her appearance and leave me.

Hair dye.  Men’s clothing.  Baseball caps.  Make-up.  I wanted to vomit.

The one, yes one, check out line was at least 25 people long, all of them staring menacingly at the elderly woman holding up the line with a thick wad of coupons for her cat food and asking the cashier to read aloud to her about its nutritional value.  A crying, wailing, screeching something-month old baby was in the arms of a harried snot-nosed teenager who bounced quickly back and forth on her flip-flops, even though it was not even twenty degrees outside.

“Why the fuck do you need this shit for?” I picked through the clothing and boots, and other crap in the cart.  “This line is impossible.  This is insane.  Look at these people.  They’re all pathetic trash.  I can’t stay here anymore.”

  “Shut up, Kade!” She hissed poking her finger hard into my chest.  “Maybe, maybe this is more about something other than you!  Those walls you built up for yourself.  You should have installed windows in them, just to get a chance to see there are other people in this world besides you! Maybe that woman needs the nutritional value for herself and not her damn cats because her fucking social security checks don’t cover what she needs it to…that baby and that teenager?  Well, you think she wants to be strapped with that crying kid, when babydaddy is out with his friends after he promised to make it all up to her?  That kid is sick, Kade. Look in that baby’s eyes, she has a very high fever…look how limp her body is, look at her nose flaring and listen to her wheezing breaths.  She shows signs of pneumonia, Kade, and look how tired the mother is.  God, she’s just a baby herself.”  Again, she poked me with her finger, harder this time.  “You think they’re all here just to get in your way?  Look at me…Kade…I’m here because I need to change the fucking way I look because there is someone who wants to see nothing more than me die, and I won’t let him…you don’t know these people’s stories. They are not less important than you are.  They have there own issues, Kade, everybody does and you can’t know what these people’s stories are, even though in your head you think you can automatically tell who and what people are.  Are you absolutely 100% sure that your reality is the fucking real one?  In your gloriously disordered mind, I was nothing but a stripper.”

“I automatically hate.  That’s all I know…” I mumbled.

She leaned closer to me, smooth skin against my neck, “Last night, you told me you were falling in love with me…love doesn’t grow well when it’s surrounded by such hate.  Stop hating everyone because of the fucked up choices Thomas made.  Thomas was Thomas, nobody else is Thomas.”

“But they could be.  They could turn into a Thomas!” I barked.

She spun me around, tore the sleeve of my coat down, and lifted my shirt harshly up my back.  “No, Kade!  No!  They could be a Leslie, a Gemma, a Henry, a Cory…” she listed the names of my friends who were killed, while gently touching their names with cool fingertips.  “You’re forgetting the innocent people and always remembering the wicked one.”

I yanked my arm away from her, and shrugged my coat back on my shoulder.  By now, the whole of the store was watching our fight.  “My freedom was taken from me that day!”

“No, Kade, it wasn’t.  Your security was taken from you that day.  Your freedom is the choice to let it happen every day since then.  This is your life.  You don’t even watch it fly by. You closed your fucking eyes to it, until you saw some waitress with a nice rack.  You want to love, Kade, so give up the shit that weighs you down and makes you hate.  Let it go.  I will fucking meet you half way.  I let go of my baggage, if you let go of yours or we’re going to hit each other with the heavy packages for the rest of our lives.”

My fucking head started buzzing like a cloud of killer bees was circling me.  The voices of the people around me sounded too loud, they moved around too strangely, and they watched me too cautiously.  “That’s a bloody joke, right?  For the rest of our lives?  You’re leaving here; you’re leaving me.  So there’s no meeting anyone half way, is there?”  I shifted angrily away from her as the line moved and I started slamming down the items on the conveyer belt at the register.

She scrunched her eyebrows together and lay her hand on my chest, “You’re angry because I’m leaving?”  The question was asked with pure innocent astonishment.  Fuck, she really didn’t get it, did she?

“I told you.  You’re going to destroy me,” I hissed behind clenched teeth, as the items beeped past the electronic register in the hands of the cashier.

Instantly, she closed the distance between our angry, coiled bodies, curled her hands tightly around the back of my neck and pulled me down to her lips.  Like a lamb to its slaughter, I went.

“Kade…” she whispered against my lips.

“I know I’m being so fucking selfish right now, but Sam, I fucking need you in my life.  Stay here with me. I swear I will never let him hurt you again. I’ll help you get a job at the hospital here, we’ll…”

“I‘m not a surgeon anymore, I can’t be; he made sure to take that away from me.  You don’t know.”  Her eyes filled will tears, but they didn’t spill.  She held them in, I knew not to waste any more on him.

“That will be $286.31,” the cashier yelled between us.

I never thought about staying.  My only clear realistic thoughts were getting away from where David knew I was; the very place where he sent someone to kill me.  Sloppily, I might add.  David usually did things methodically and cleverly, planned everything out perfectly.  He must be getting desperate.