Chapter 3

THREE

Della

I sprinted down the road and away from the bathroom, forgetting all about the call of nature. Shoving my way through the throngs of people, I was sworn at multiple times, and soon someone shoved me back. I couldn’t get mad—I deserved it the way I was plowing through everyone like a freight train.

Ashley was exactly where I left her and I grabbed her arm, sat down, and then jumped back up, taking her with me.

“What the hell is wrong with you, woman,” she said and laughed, leaning over to pick up her phone off the ground. “You’re lucky I just hit ‘send’.”

Tugging her, I said, “We gotta go.”

Carefully, she pulled my hand off her arm. “Bro, what is going on?” She furrowed her brows. “You, okay?”

Rapidly scanning our surroundings, I replied, “I don’t know. I think I saw something. I don’t know.”

“Calm down. What happened? You good?” She knew me well enough to know I wasn’t “good.”

I took a deep breath, trying to collect my thoughts before answering. “Okay. I was going to the bathroom and these freak show circus performers came out, so I took a short cut, and I don’t know. Maybe they were more performers?” I was waiting for something to happen, for someone to come out of the dark and confront me, but I didn’t see anything. “There was a group in the back, and they freaked me out.”

Ashley waited while my eyes darted back and forth. Nobody was coming after me, and now I felt stupid. My shoulders sagged. “At least I got some cardio in.”

“And?” my friend prompted.

Shaking my head, I said, “Its dumb. I thought I saw something but maybe not.”

“And?” she repeated.

“And nothing. I thought I witnessed a murder.” We strolled along and then stopped at the halfway point, blocking the flow of traffic.

“Move outta the way,” someone grumbled.

She gave me side-eye and ignored the man who shoulder-checked her. “As in homicide?”

I rolled my eyes as we pushed over to the side and stopped near a cotton candy cart. “There was a body on the ground, and zombies around it. The makeup was super realistic.”

Ashley shoved some cash into a slot and a cellophane-wrapped stick of pink fluff was released. “That sounds kinda cool.” She too, had a love of horror movies and all things dark and macabre.

I nodded and stole a wisp of her candy. “It was until the man showed up.”

“Man?”

The sugar rush was so intense my mouth puckered and eyes watered. “God, that’s sweet.”

“That’s what you get. Tell me about the man before I shove this stick down your throat. I want to hear what happened, stop screwing around.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

“Della,” she warned me. I giggled, my nerves getting the best of me

An image of the man filled my mind. He might as well have had dry ice fog wafting around him, the vision had been that sinister with his whatever-he-was-supposed-to-be persona. “He was intense. He didn’t match the zombies. He was all dressed up; dark and dangerous. Nice hair. He had nice hair. I think.”

Had I imagined that? With all the shadows, I couldn’t have known for sure. I supposed my brain had painted the picture I’d wanted to see.

We began walking again. “I don’t see the problem,” Ashley said.

“He…” I started.

What could I really say? Should I have told her it felt like he sucked the air out of my lungs and I temporarily forgot what oxygen was? Or how it seemed as though he could see right through me? I hadn’t gotten a good look at him, more like an impression .

But that too, was mostly indescribable. All I’d really thought was that he’d had thick, dark hair, a great outfit, and shadowy dark eyes.

Picking him out of a line-up based on physical traits alone was a no-go. I’d have to look for the best-dressed guy with the most sinister aura if I was going to identify anyone.

Groaning, I finally said, “Maybe I overreacted. It was just all so weird. And I still have to pee.”

My friend arched an eyebrow at me, and we pushed through the exit gate.

“Okay, as long as you’re all right,” she offered, her eyes softening.

“I am.” I was more than fine, other than wanting to go back and investigate some more. Which yes, was a completely self-destructive notion. I just couldn’t stay away from the grotesque and spooky and had always been the first one barreling into haunted houses on Halloween and dragging my friends along. It was a shame Ashley and I hadn’t met as kids.

We got into her car and buckled in.

“Good, because Andy texted. He’s gonna bring Brett and drinks. My apartment or yours? Yours would be better; Miss Smith is on a rampage lately.” Miss Smith was Ashley’s upstairs neighbor who banged on the floor with pots and pans every time Ashley had anyone over at her and her mom’s apartment. We’d found out that pounding on the ceiling with the end of a broom in response wasn’t a great idea after the woman started coming down and using those same pots and pans on the apartment door. Instant mood killer.

We battled with the exiting traffic and congested streets before having to find a detour to avoid some group gathered for street racing. A mixture of sawhorses and lowered Subarus blocked the road up in the near distance. Finally, after what should’ve been a ten-minute ride rather than twenty, we arrived back at my complex as I mentally battled what to do with the rest of the night.

It was one of those tricky things. My dad flipped out once when he realized I wouldn’t bring friends over and be a “normal woman.” To reassure me, he’d gotten one of those white noise machines and he always slept with a fan on so I wouldn’t worry about disturbing him. It just felt strange to have people over and be drinking alcohol and living life with your sick father just across the apartment.

“You know I hate that,” I finally replied.

Ashley looked at me pointedly. “I know but your dad made me promise. Remember how he freaked when he found out you wouldn’t bring anyone around? He threatened you too, if I’m remembering correctly.”

I caved. “Fine. But the same rules apply.”

“Of course. Not once have we ever bothered him. And I think he likes it. I know he likes me,” she grinned. “We make him feel young. Daddy DuBois, the cute, suave Frenchman.”

“Creep. Stay away from my dad.” I laughed, getting out of her car. “You’re disgusting.” I knew she was only joking but I was no stranger to my friends getting starry-eyed over my dad, he was a good-looking man.

She laughed. “I’m gonna go park and we’ll be over in a little bit.”

Ashley drove off to leave her car at her apartment, just a block away, and get the guys. They were waiting for her, and they would all walk over together. There was no guest parking here without the risk of your vehicle being gone when you got back.

Police cars, a SWAT truck, and an ambulance had taken over the far end of the parking lot in a flurry of activity where people were also milling about. A woman was screaming, and a group of teenagers were sitting on a stoop filming the commotion with their phones. No one paid me any mind; it was just a typical weekend. The chaos had been jarring when I first moved in, and I’d been terrified. But then, I realized everyone just lived their lives and did what they had to do despite it. I followed suit, adapting to the conditions.

My dad was up when I walked in, boiling a hotdog. “Hey, Della, honey.”

“Hi, Dad. Ashley and the guys are stopping by. Is that okay?” I swung around the table and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Dad poured water from the pot down the sink and grabbed a plate from the cabinet. He muttered under his breath and then said, “You better.”

“I better what?” I grabbed a mug for him from the rack on the counter. He used coffee cups for his drinks, the handles helping provide some stability for his shaky hands.

He grunted. “Have friends over.”

Grabbing his lap tray from the top of the refrigerator I followed him back to his room, carrying the cup of water. I helped him settle in and then asked, “Can I get you anything? We have movie night coming up soon.”

Once or twice a month, we hung out together eating snacks and had a movie night. We took turns deciding which film to watch, but I insisted on him choosing more often than not. He usually picked Ancient Aliens, X Files, or a 48 Hours binge. They weren’t movies, but I liked watching the programs together.

He shook his head and pulled the tray closer. “No, this is good. Thank you. Go have fun. I might start Mulder and Scully again. It’s on Hulu.” Dad loved his spooky shows, so I knew where my fascination came from.

After kissing his forehead, I said goodnight and softly closed the door. I heard him turn on the television and his noise machine, the two devices competing to provide the racket that soothed and blocked outside noises.

No matter how much he insisted, I always felt slightly guilty hanging out with my friends and having fun. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I did. The one time I really tried to put my foot down about keeping our apartment quiet for him, he’d strained himself so badly he slept for over twenty-four hours. He’d gotten so mad and told me I couldn’t control everything.

I didn’t want to be responsible for him depleting himself like that again. I hated feeling helpless to change our situation so I did whatever I could to try and make things easier for him. We had a good, orderly system down and I didn’t like rocking the boat. Maybe I couldn’t control everything , but I could still create a peaceful environment.

The door buzzer sounded, and I hit the button that would let my friends in after checking my phone for a text.

“Where’s Dad?” Ashley immediately asked, as Brett and Andy trailed in behind her.

“Eating and resting in his room,” I informed her.

Andy went directly to the couch and began unbagging what smelled like Chinese take-out. “Utensils?” Ashley went to the appropriate kitchen drawer and took out the forks before heading to the living room.

“What’s up?” Brett turned to me, placing a hand at the small of my back and nuzzling my neck. He wasn’t my boyfriend. He wanted to be but he just wasn’t it for me and our history was rather...bumpy. I liked him for the most part—when he wasn’t annoying me or reminding me of my mistakes.

I leaned in and let him hold me close for a moment. “Let’s go to the living room.” Brett picked up a paper bag I hadn’t seen him carry in and then we settled on the couch.

Ashley held her phone toward me, and I got back up to peer at the screen. She was sitting on the loveseat on the other side of the low table dividing the sofas. “Wait—is that what I think it is? Did they just give you a date and time, without asking?”

“Uh-huh,” she said nodding. “You fill yours out yet?”

“You know I didn’t,” I remarked. “We just got back.”

She grabbed a hard seltzer from Brett, who was holding a white metal can toward her. “All this time and nothing, and now look. You better fill out your application asap,” she said, popping open the drink.

It was unbelievable. She’d been trying as long as I had to get a response, any kind of to at least one of her attempts to find a different job and within an hour, she’d gotten an interview appointment.

“I can’t believe it, this is great. You know I’m gonna fill mine out,” I replied.

Brett flicked the metal cap off a bottle of beer. “What job?” He dug into a carton of shrimp fried rice before passing it to Ashley.

“Some company in the city. Data entry and stuff. You know I’m sick of working two jobs, and my dad needs better care.”

“I thought Melinda was good?” Ashley let a warning tone creep into her voice. “Do I need to have a strongly worded conversation with her?” She closed the carton and set it on the table.

Andy chuckled and picked up the television remote as I answered, “No, she’s fine, she’s great. It would just be better to have someone here more often and that means a bigger bill.”

“I know, just making sure.”

Three episodes of Breaking Bad on streaming and two drinks later and Ashley and Andy were ready to go. Brett and I locked up after them and headed to my room, him stopping to grope me in the hallway.

This was how it usually went, we’d hang out with Ashley and Andy, or by ourselves, and then have sex in my room and he’d leave in the early morning. He was a good-looking man, usually fun to be around, and he wasn’t horrible in bed.

Brett wasn’t a bad catch at all on the surface.

He pushed me up against the wall and tweaked my nipple when I went to grab the door latch. My head hit the plaster wall as he began kissing my neck. “In the room, Brett, in the room,” I protested, taking his hand from my waist and guiding him into my bedroom.

Everything was relatively silent, outside the drone of the regular noise coming from my dad’s room across the apartment and sporadic sounds from the parking lot below. When Brett shoved the door shut a little too harshly, I didn’t flinch. Nobody would’ve heard it other than maybe the people above or below us.

After pulling my shirt over my head, I removed the rest of my clothes other than my underwear and sat on the edge of my bed watching Brett do the same and wishing I was more in the mood. But beggars can’t be choosers, and it’d been a few weeks since I’d gotten any action. He was a safe choice and kept me out of the bar crawl and dating app sites that so many of my peers struggled with and relied on.

I knew what I was getting and what I had to do. And I knew where he lived and where he’d been, for the most part. These details repeated in my head on a loop although the “where he’d been part” was questionable at times.

Brett approached me and bent down, resting on his arms, and leaning in to kiss me. My hands met his shoulders, and he pressed in. As I fell back, he pressed his lips over mine and thrust his tongue inside my mouth.

He slid my panties to the side and inserted two fingers, curling them to reach my sweet spot. I wasn’t quite ready, so it was slightly uncomfortable at first. Breathless, I wiggled underneath him seeking friction. He pulled away and guided me farther up the mattress.

I rolled over and sat up, tugging the blankets down when he said, “Della.” He tried to get my attention, wrapping an arm around my middle.

“Mm?” I responded, flipping the sheets over.

He climbed under the comforter and positioned himself between my legs. I knew what was coming next and tried to keep my face neutral. “You know you’re the only one I’m seeing right?” he pleaded.

“Please don’t, Brett.”

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