Chapter Eighteen
The whole trailer shakes as I slam the front door shut with the force of the rage consuming me.
I like to think the trailer is scared of me, too.
Good. Everyone should remember who owns this shithole.
My hot skin almost stings as the cold air rushes through me.
My mind is still buzzing… my head feels foggy. Hands are shaking from the adrenaline.
Did she really forget about the doorbell camera?
I saw that black Dodge pickup. I saw him picking her up and dropping her off.
More than once. Opening her door for her to get in and out?
What a pussy. I could also tell she even put more effort into her appearance.
Not that it fucking matters now… No one's going to want to look at her for a while. Good. The stupid bitch is mine.
For the night, I’m going to stay at the cheapest motel in town.
Tomorrow I’ll come home with her favorite Chinese food and maybe some flowers.
Acting like I don't remember what happened, and being who she is, I'm sure she will go along with it.
She always does. As I can feel my body slowing down, almost stuttering, I decide to take another pill.
Waking up in a bright white room confuses me.
Head pounding… Where the hell am I… how did I get here?
I reach for my phone on the nightstand, but it's dead. This room feels stale, with a hint of cigarette smoke. I saw an open pack and a littered ashtray on the table not far from me. I guess I also bought a pack of cigarettes… I don’t remember that.
Sitting up in bed, I start running my hands over my face and through my hair. I notice right away that they are starting to look swollen and that scabs are forming. I see deep scratches on my wrists.
Suddenly, the confusion clears, and the recollection starts to sink in.
I came home and saw her car sitting there.
Someone has spent a lot of money to fix whatever was wrong, because I sure as fuck didn’t.
So, I got angry. She doesn’t get to cheat on me.
Only I get to cheat on her. She’s my property, after all; I can treat her however I want.
Getting up, I head into the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I see small spots of bruising on my chest. I need to determine how to fix this. Maybe I'll be really condescending. Pretend I don’t remember coming home… or the incident. I’ll come up with a story about my condition before I get home.
Turning on the shower, I let the water run for a few minutes before getting in.
As it starts running down my shoulder and back, I realize how sore I am…
I’m almost stiff. Making the shower quick, I dry off and put on yesterday's clothes since I didn’t bring anything with me when I left.
This hotel is so rundown and understaffed that I don't need to check out; they will figure it out by the cash I left on the counter with my room key.
Making my way to the parking lot, I see my truck parked haphazardly.
I start my truck and notice I’m also down to E.
I could have sworn I filled up yesterday…
What else did I do last night? Luckily, there is a gas station right across the street.
Grabbing what I believe is her favorite flavor monster, I head back to the truck and go in the direction of her favorite Chinese restaurant.
Once I’m satisfied with my “gifts,” I decide it’s time to go home.
Sitting back in the driver's seat, I take a deep breath and start driving.
Pulling into the trailer park. Right away, I can tell she hasn't left the house, good.
At least she listened. Putting the truck in park, I mindlessly turn it off and get out, walking slowly.
I notice right away that the door is very loose.
The crunching of plastic under boots stops me in my tracks.
I don't believe I broke the doorbell camera. Both times I slammed it, it pulled some of the screws loose. Maybe I’ll look at that later.
Opening the door softly. I look around and spot her lying on her side on the floor, facing the wall, shaking.
Putting as much concern as I can in the moment in my voice.
I was surprised, even by myself, how easily it came out of my mouth.
“Pretty Girl, are you okay? Why are you lying on the floor? Are you okay? Juni?” She doesn’t respond; she just keeps trembling.
“Juni…what the fuck happened? Are you okay?” I ask her.
She stays silent but gingerly turns her head in my direction.
And that’s when I see what I’ve done. Even though she deserved it, I still feel guilty for a moment.
“I woke up in a hotel, and I have absolutely no idea how I got there… I think I took my pain pills with something I shouldn’t have…
” I look around sheepishly. Walking over, I kneel beside her.
“What happened to you, Pretty Girl?” I asked her again.
Her eyes look so hollow and lost. She murmurs. “I... I fell.”
“Let’s go get you cleaned up... okay?” Before she can respond, I’m making my way to the bathroom and start filling the tub with water.
Once I’m satisfied with the water level, I go back to the living room, morphing my face to look concerned.
“Come here, Pretty Girl. Let’s go get you cleaned up, okay?
” Her whole body flinches as I scoop her up.
She’s already a small, saturated person, but she’s feeling breakable in my arms. I guess she is.
Carrying her down the small hallway, I gently maneuver us into the small bathroom.
“Let’s get these clothes off, okay? I made you a bath.
That should help.” She flinches as I unzip the green sweatshirt she's wearing. I can sense she’s on high alert as I help her take off her leggings and everything else.
Helping her to her feet, I can see all the bruises forming.
The ones around her neck seem to be the darkest. Shielding my face with concern, I don’t ask her how she got the bruises on her neck.
I simply help her get into the tub and cleaned up, as any good husband would.