Page 28 of Stowaway Whirlwind
I step forward. “But you didn’t—”
He goes on as if I hadn’t spoken. “If you want to call the cops, tell them to contact Russell. He’ll know where I am.”
And instead of showing him how devastated I am, I get angry. “Stop it! Why are you acting like this? Running away without giving me a chance to speak?”
He drops his eyes and stares and stares and stares at Lily when she mewls. Our raised voices have woken her up, and she starts rooting at my chest, but I can’t take my eyes off Davis as he shuffles back without a word.
“So what? One mistake, and now you’re done with me? Done playing house and making me call youDaddy? Does that mean you’re done with Lily, too?” I’m shouting by the end of it.
“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “Everything was a mistake.”
His words punch the air right out of me.
“I never should have touched you. Made you call meDaddy.” He can barely get the word out. “It wasn’t right,” he repeats.
I scoff and swipe angrily at a tear. “You know what? It makes perfect sense, actually. I should have known myDaddy”—I spit the word out—“would be just as disappointing as my real dad and Lily’s, too.” My voice cracks when I say, “You’re all the same.”
“I’m sorry. You’ll…you’ll thank me for this.”
“You think I’m going tothank youfor trying to sneak out without a word after everything we’ve been through?”
He nods once. “Exactly. You shouldn’t want a man like me around after what I’ve done.”
“You haven’t done anything I didn’t want you to,” I insist, some of the anger leaching from my voice. But then a mental light bulb goes off. Davisisright. I might hate it, but he’s right. I’ve given him too much free reign with my body and heart in a minuscule amount of time. How could I do that? Go along with this insanity? I’m already failing Lily as a mother.
Lily’s rooting becomes more insistent as she cries in earnest. By the time I have her resituated in my arms after dragging my shirt up for her to nurse, Davis has disappeared with the front door closed behind him. With no one to see, I let the rest of the hot, angry tears that were building behind my eyes fall. Let my shame flow freely down my cheeks as I settle into the recliner in the living room, wallowing in a hurricane of self-loathing.
I’m in a stranger’s house, wearing a stranger’s clothes, wholly dependent on a stranger’s generosity since I have no family or means to support myself. I have never felt more alone or disgusted with myself.
I kiss Lily’s forehead when I switch her to my other breast and trail my fingertips through her wispy hair. “I’ll do better from now. I promise I’ll do better for you.”
Davis
I have never felt more disgusted with myself than I do when I jerk awake at Goldie’s cry in her sleep before she flies off the bed.I had been spooning her from behind, pulling her pajama pants down in real life as I had done in my dream, sliding my morning wood through her slit and sinking an inch inside her wet pussy. She wasn’t wet because she wanted me—she’s wet because she’s stillbleeding.
Jesus Christ, Irapedher—a woman less than a week postpartum, who I promised to take care of. This is not how a good man takes care of his woman.Shit! Not my woman!The horror of knowing I could have unintentionally but brutally hurt her when she couldn’t defend herself, the immense amount of pain I would cause her if she hadn’t woken up in time, the infection and severe complications that could lead to makes me want to take a knife to my heartanddick.
I crash into the wall after rolling out of bed, holding back bile long enough to apologize to Goldie before making it to the toilet to vomit the physical manifestation of my horror. When I drag myself off the floor and look in the mirror, I crash to my knees and vomit again, missing the toilet this time. My dick is streaked with her blood, and I want to take that mental knife and peel my skin off for what I’ve done to Goldie.
I’m a monster.
I can’t face myself in the mirror once I’m empty and have cleaned the bathroom without waking Lily—if Goldie hasn’t already grabbed her and ran. I don’t risk a shower but wash her blood away at the sink, wishing I could scrub my mind the way I scrub my face and teeth afterward.
Goldie isn’t in the room when I step out of the bathroom, but Lily is still in her crib, which means Goldie hasn’t left yet. With self-loathing making my hands numb and shaky and the violet retching having left tears in my eyes and my temples throbbing, I dress quickly in my closet.
I damn near run to the front door to stuff my feet in my boots, then make a run for the Buick so I can leave before I doany more damage. But something stops me. A little tug of the leash in my mind that’s attached to the girls. I drag my palm down my face, screaming at myself internally tofucking leave already, but that leash tightens around my neck until I can’t breathe.
I can’t leave. Not yet. Not when I know I’ll be gone so long. I need one more look. Just one to get me through the next four weeks, if not longer, in case Goldie calls the cops…like she should.
Though my boots are heavy, I manage to soften my steps into the bedroom. Lily stirs in her crib, and on autopilot, I gather my little girl in my arms, pull her close to my chest, and pace down the hallway into the living room, bouncing her softly. I drop my nose to her fine hair and inhale her sweet, newborn baby smell.
Tears gather in my eyes at the idea that I’m leaving them. That Ihaveto leave them. And not only because I have to go back to work but also because it’s the right thing to do. Goldie isn’t safe with me. I can’t take care of her if I’m the one she’s in danger of.
My stomach churns when I hear a thump on the other side of the wall, and Goldie rushes out, fear twisting her expression. I’m going to throw up again. I want to give her a real knife and let her sink it as deep into my chest as I wanted my cock inside her body.
And then, unbelievably, there’s her relief. Bone-deep relief at finding the two of us in the living room, and I don’t understand it. But when we fight, and she tells me how disappointed she is with me, how similar I am to her dad and Lily’s father, I want to tell her that I’m worse. I’m the worst of them all, and I deserve so much more than her disappointment.
But I can’t face her any longer to tell her that. To beg her to call the cops because I’m too weak to turn myself in. And so I walk out the moment she’s distracted, letting the mental leashchoke me until my head pounds even harder as I drive away in the Buick, stopping after I make it onto the main road so I can vomit again.
