Page 6 of Clash
He nodded, laughing even harder when the T-shirt draped over his body and fell way past his knees. “It’s like a dress!” he squealed in excitement. He stuck his head out of one of the arm holes and grinned. “Look, Mommy, I can see you.”
His smile was contagious, and before I could stop myself, I was giggling too. Fixing his shirt again, I ushered him over to the couch, covered him with a blanket, and turned on the TV. After surfing through the channels, I actually foundSpongeBobplaying. It was like a TV miracle or something.
“SpongeBob!” he shrieked. “I can’t believe it, Mommy. It’s actually on the TV, just like the man said.”
“It is, honey. Now, you sit here and watchSpongeBobwhile Mommy takes a shower, okay? Don’t open the door for anyone. I’m sure when Mr. Clash comes back, he’ll have a key. And try not to touch anything. We can’t afford to fix something if you happen to break it.” Alex was a notorious mischief maker. I had to Alex-proof my house just so my expensive decorations didn’t get ruined. The only thing of value I had was my wedding ring, but I was saving it for an emergency. Not that living on the street for the past few weeks didn’t constitute as an emergency. But I was finding it hard to part with. It was the only thing I had that even remotely showed I was once part of a happy family. An expensive façade symbolizing the happiness I faked every day. I wanted to pawn it, gathering the money I needed to head to Vegas, but I was afraid of calling my sister, and was waiting for a better time. She was all I had left.
Alex yawned. “Okay, Mommy.”
The warm spray hit me as the most glorious water I ever felt cascaded down my body. Dirt and grime shucked off me like layers of an onion, swirling around the drain at my feet, as weeks of living on the streets disappeared down the drain. A shower never felt this good before. Reaching for the soap on the ledge, I took in the manly scent, overwhelming my senses with the smell of sandalwood and leather.
Did he really smell like this?
Why did this smell so fucking good?
Using a washrag, I lathered it in the body wash, dragging it across every inch of my exposed skin, embracing the scent and the cleanliness it brought with it. Every part of my body was scrubbed clean, even the weak parts of me, like my legs that were slightly buckling and losing strength. The cloth dropped to the floor as the spray beat down on me, my whole body giving out beneath me as I slunk to the porcelain floor, curling my knees up against my chest until I was sitting in a fetal position. For the first time in weeks, I felt safe, clean, and free… but then the tears came on without warning, as did the flashbacks of the night I left my husband for good.
“You stupid bitch!” he shouted, slamming me against the wall. “Do you call this dinner? It fucking tastes like shit, just like your pussy.”
“Please, Eric. Stop! Alex will hear you.”
He looked feral as his hands curled around my throat, squeezing until I barely could breathe. “Do you think I care? You need to be taught a lesson, Gina. I expect a four-course meal when I get home, not this boxed garbage.”
Tears pricked my eyes. We were low on food, and I didn’t have the chance to get to the grocery store today. Now I wished I would have. At least then he wouldn’t be so angry.
“And what is this?” he growled, gripping my hair, that was freshly done in the salon. “I told you I like your hair long. Do you think I want to be married to a man?” He yanked on my hair, forcing my head to the side.
The stylist only cut two inches off it, leaving it well past my shoulders and down my back. Look like a man. I surely did not.
“God, look at you, Gina. You’ve let yourself go. You’re getting fatter and uglier every single day. And you wonder why I have to satisfy my dick by fucking other women? It’s because of this. You look fucking hideous. It’s because I married a woman not even fit to lick my shoes. I would’ve been better offmarrying my dog than this disgrace of a woman.” The whole time, his punishing grip got even tighter, and I was starting to see spots. “Get off your fat ass and go to the store. I want a decent fucking meal tonight. Mac and cheese? Hotdogs? Who do you think I am?”
The worst mistake of my life.
“Eric, please, you’re hurting me.”
He smiled evilly. “If you think this is bad. Just wait for your punishment later.”
Tiny footsteps raced up the hall, and Eric finally let go of me.
“Mommy, are you okay?”
Gasping for breath, I forced out a smile, clutching at my throat. That was my point of weakness. “Y—Yes,” I stuttered out, barely able to form words. “I’m f—fine.”
“Okay, Mommy.” Alex came up and wrapped me in a hug, his fragile arms curling around my mid-section.
“Go to your room, Alex. Now!” Eric barked.
Alex hesitated for a split second too long, and I saw the hand of wrath raise.
Stepping between them, I took the blow, his fist hitting my face and sending me straight to the floor.
“Mommy!” Alex screamed, cowering away from his father.
“Go to your room, Alex. Please,” I begged.
This time, there was no hesitation, only fear. He scampered off, leaving me a crying mess begging for mercy at the monster’s feet.
“Serves you right,” he said with a laugh. “Might want to pick up some make-up while you’re at it. Your eye is looking kind of purple.”
