Page 64 of Clash
But there was no convincing me otherwise. I had somewhere to be, and it sure as shit wasn’t behind the clubhouse doors.
No…
It was across town, outside a little old lady’s home, standing watch over the woman who would never know I was there, and the kid I vowed to protect for the rest of my life.
22
I couldn’t sleep.
For some odd reason, I kept tossing and turning, trying to overcome vivid nightmares of Eric that were plaguing my dreams. It had been that way for the last few days, waking me up out of a dead sleep, sweating profusely, panting, and out of breath. It was almost like I could feel him breathing down my neck, the stale stench of alcohol hitting my nose and lingering, making me sick to my stomach.
I had felt so safe… but now I felt vulnerable, like any moment he would walk through that door, kill me, and take my son. Or worse… kill Alex too. I couldn’t even think about it. Just the thought alone killed me.
I crept out to the living room and grabbed a glass of warm milk. Bess said it did wonders to put someone to sleep. So far, it only increased my anxiety.
Standing by the window, I stared out into the night, wondering how much longer I could live this life on the run without being found by the cops?
I was on borrowed time—time I didn’t have anymore.
Sighing, I moved away from the window, but then someone moving in the shadows of a tree caught my attention, and I froze, the sense of being watched overwhelming me.
Blinking, I rubbed at my eyes, hoping I wasn’t seeing things. Then the person moved again, and my heart sped up inside my chest, every cell in my body on high alert.
The floorboard creaked behind me, and I felt someone’s hand clasp my shoulder, causing me to scream.
“Gina,” Bess shouted, covering her heart with her hand. “Is everything alright?”
Shaking my head, I started to sob, visions of my ex taking over my brain.
“Someone’s out there watching me,” I informed her, pointing to the trees.
“Nonsense,” Bess said, charming me with a smile. “You’re probably just seeing things.”
I wasn’t convinced. I know I saw someone moving out there.
“I’m sure I saw someone standing out there, Bess.”
Bess moved to the window, peering out the curtain. “I don’t see anything,” she stated. “Though my cataracts make it difficult to see things sometimes. You’d think I was blind by how bad my vision can be. Why are you up late again, Gina? This is like the fourth night in a row.”
I was on edge, suddenly feeling very unsafe and exposed. “I’ve been having bad dreams about Eric. Dreams of him walking through the bedroom door and ending my life… then Alex’s. I’m so afraid, Bess. What if he finds us? What if I end up dead or in jail because I thought I was doing the right thing for my son? I can’t stomach the thought of that bastard taking Alex away from me. But I know me running has done more harm than good. I should’ve went to the cops when the abuse started and not been so afraid. I’m a coward, a stupid, ugly coward.”
Bess frowned. “Oh, you poor dear. I’m so sorry you’re going through all this. Please don’t call yourself ugly or a coward. You’re a strong woman, and a very loving mother. You did do the right thing by leaving, don’t ever think twice about that. It’s hard having PTSD and dealing with all the fear that comes with it. I wish I could protect you better, and ease some of your worries, but my ninja skills died out a long time ago, probably the same time as the dinosaurs. I blame the bad knees; they crack like old wooden bats.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Bess had this uncanny way of making me forget all my problems without trying.
“I’m just so afraid. It’s only a matter of time before he finds us, and something is telling me it will be very soon…”
My voice faltered, the brokenness in it coming through the more I thought about Eric and all the shitty things that come with him.
“You need a distraction, Gina. Please, let me set you up with my neighbor Walter. I think it’ll be good for you. It can get your mind off these bad dreams you’re having and distract you, at least for the night.”
The thought of going on a date sounded horrible. Everything in me wanted to say no, but the other part of me felt obligated in some way, like I owed it to her because of everything she does for me.
“See, you’re thinking about it. You know you need this.”
Like I need a bullet in the head.
“One date. Just some dinner and a nice conversation. What can it hurt?”
