Aligned: Volume 3 (6 page)

“He’s not. He caught her cheating with the stripper the next morning and called off the whole thing.”
 

“But why was I at James’ bachelor party? I thought I met James after I met you.”
 

“You did. You were couch surfing at the time. Sleeping on anybody’s couch who would let you. Sometimes, you slept on the streets. Occasionally, you had enough money from your photography and waitressing job to rent a motel room for a night or two. But most of the time, you would reinvest any money you made into your photography business. That night you had just gotten the biggest payday of your career and had ducked into the nearest bar to celebrate with a drink.”
 

“What job was it? How did I go from that to this amazing photographer? Why did I not have enough money to pay rent?”
 

I chuckle. “Whoa, calm down and let me finish the story.”
 

“Sorry.” She blushes again, embarrassed that she interrupted the story.
 

“I was hanging out with James and his buddies, bored out of my mind, about ready to leave when I saw you walk in. You weren’t wearing a coat even though it was winter. Instead, you had on probably five layers of clothes and jeans. Your hair was pulled up just like it is now. But something about your eyes drew me to you. Your beautiful green eyes seemed so happy that night that it was contagious. I had to go talk to you. I had to meet you. So I did. I offered to buy you a drink. You agreed. You drank a whiskey straight, to my surprise.”
 

Her eyes light up when I say that, almost as if she remembered something.
 

“Do you remember anything?” I ask.
 

Her head drops just a little. “Not really. I just ordered a whiskey on autopilot the last few times I’ve been to a bar. So somewhere deep inside, I must remember.”
 

I nod and smile. As much as she tries, I don’t think she’s ever going to remember me. I will have to fight all over again to gain her trust, her love.
 

“We sat and drank at the bar for a little while. I introduced you to James at the bachelor party, not that he remembers meeting you that night. I even got you to dance. Just one fast song. You were never much of a dancer.”
 

She laughs at that. “I’m still not much of a dancer.”
 

“Then after the dance, you were gone. You said you were just going to the bathroom, but you disappeared out of my life for what I thought was forever. I took James to the next bar assuming I would never see you again.”
 

“But you did see me again. How did you find me?”
 

I take a deep breath trying to calm my tense body. Not sure if she should hear what happens next or if I should just let it remain buried.
 

“I read about you a couple of days later in the newspaper.”
 

“What do you mean?”
 

“That night the reason you disappeared when you went to the bathroom was because you were attacked.” I swallow hard preparing to say the next words that will extinguish her fire. “Alexa, you were raped that night.”
 

Her eyes widen. Her mouth falls open, but she doesn’t speak. I’m afraid she’s gone into shock.
 

“Alexa,” I say, waving my hand in front of her face. She doesn’t move.
 

“Alexa,” I say again. Louder this time. I sit up in bed so that I can reach her and shake her body. She slowly comes to but still doesn’t say anything.
 

“Are you okay?”
 

“Yes,” she says immediately. She rubs her hands up and down her arms as she stares again into nothing. “How is that possible?”
 

“I know it’s a lot for you to take in. I’m sorry.” I reach out to touch her hand, but she moves it into her lap out of reach.
 

“Who?”
 

“Daniel Woods. His name is Daniel Woods. He is still in jail. He got twenty-five years although he will probably get out before that.”
 

“I can’t ...” she says standing. “I can’t deal with this right now. I’m sorry.” She runs from the room.
 

I was wrong to tell her, I realize immediately. She’s dealt with too much pain. Too much loss. I just hope I can help her heal.
 

I went to see him. His eyes are blue ... not black. Not even dark brown. They are bright sparkling blue. It can’t be him.
 

I hear the door slam behind me as I leave Ethan’s hospital room. I don’t care that the nurses look up from their stations as I run down the hallway. All I care about is air. I need air. I run down the long white hallway to the elevator. Running down the hallway faster than I ever have before. I should feel free running like this, but I don’t. I feel trapped.
 

I try to hold my breath to prevent the antiseptic smell from burning my nose, but I can’t. I let the disgusting smell in, and it burns. It always burns. I reach the elevator and press the button to get off this floor. I just need to get away. Away from here. Away from the truth.
 

The elevator doesn’t come right away. I stare at the blank white walls. A large picture frame of pastel flowers sits on the wall next to the elevator. It is supposed to be soothing, but it’s not. It’s just a boring picture that doesn’t distract me from my thoughts. I look down the hallway from where I just came. White walls are all I see. A few nurses are walking, but other than that, there is nothing to distract me. I turn back to the elevator and start counting ...

One.

Two.
 

Three. Still no elevator.
 

Four.
 

Five.

Six. I begin twisting the rings on my finger.
 

Seven.
 

Eight. The elevator dings indicating the doors are about to open. My foot begins bouncing waiting for the doors to open.
 

Nine.
 

Ten.
 

Eleven. The doors open. I walk into the empty elevator. A hand touches my shoulder as I enter. I jump at the unexpected touch, but I don’t exit the doorway of the elevator. I won’t miss my escape to freedom.
 

“Are you okay?” James asks.
 

I force a false smile on my face as I turn to look at him. “Yes, just going to get coffee.”
 

James studies my face. I try my best to remain calm and seem at ease. The only thing I allow myself to do is to spin the rings on my finger. It’s the only tiny piece of nervous energy that’s visible.
 

James returns my smile. “I’ll go with you.”
 

“I can go by myself,” I say, trying my best to seem nonchalant.
 

“It’s my job to go with you,” James says stepping into the elevator.
 

“What about Ethan?”
 

“He has his own bodyguard. My job is to protect you.”
 

I sigh but step into the elevator. James pushes the ground floor button where the coffee is. I begin counting again. Steadying my breathing as I do.
 

One.
 

Two.
 

Three.
 

Four.
 

Five. I take a deep breath. Preparing myself as the elevator descends the six floors.
 

Six.
 

Seven. The doors open. I run.
 

I don’t just run. I fly. My legs are moving so fast I’m not sure they even belong to me. I run through the lobby. Past the janitor mopping the floor. Past the kid crying while his mom holds his hand, a terrified look on her face. Past the tired nurse getting another cup of coffee to get through the day. I run past it all, and I don’t look back.
 

I run out the front door until I can finally taste air. Real air. I take a second. Just one second to just breathe. My legs don’t move for that one second. In that one second, I can taste everything. Fresh cut grass. Flowers blooming. Hope. I smell hope.
 

After my second is up, I immediately force my legs to start moving again. Faster and faster. I run a block before I feel any pain in my leg. The pain is nothing though compared to what I feel in my heart. So instead of slowing down, I run faster trying to block everything out.
 

I block out Landon and ...

Ethan and ...

James and ...
 

My leg and ...

My memory and ...

The rape.
 

I block it all out. I just run. I let myself run block after block thinking about nothing other than my breathing. All I think about is my breathing. I breathe in more wonderful flowers. I breathe in rotting trash. I breathe in the exhaust from the cars driving next to me. I don’t care what I breathe in anymore. I just breathe. In and out. Over and over. That’s it. That’s all I do.
 

Until my prosthetic leg hits a piece of uneven cement on the sidewalk. Then I’m no longer running. No longer breathing. I feel my body fall to the hard cement. I catch myself with the heels of my hands and my left knee. I feel them instantly bruise. I start counting again.
 

One.
 

Two.
 

Three. Then I feel his hands on me. That’s all it took. Three seconds. I was never really free when I was running if he was only three seconds behind me. Protecting me. Is this my life now? Always having a shadow. Living in fear. Never being alone.
 

“Alexa,” James says, his hands on my shoulders. He wants to help me stand up. I can feel his hands encouraging me to stand. I don’t want to stand. If I stand, I will have to face everything, and I’m not ready for that.
 

He pulls me up anyway. I immediately assess my injuries. I was right. Bruises. No broken bones, not even a scrape. Just bruises. That level of pain doesn’t even register right now.
 

“Come on, we have a long walk back,” James says, his hand on the small of my back guiding me back in the direction of the hospital. When I start walking, he removes his hand and just lets me walk. He doesn’t ask questions.
 

My mind doesn’t have anything to focus on this time on the way back. My breathing is too easy to focus on that. The minor pain my body feels isn’t enough either. My mind immediately goes to my dreams. My nightmares. They are true.
 

“Get off me,” I scream. He doesn’t budge. Instead, he slobbers over my neck and down to my breasts. I look up at the man on top of me, but I don’t know who he is. All I see are two dark eyes suffocating me.
 

I keep walking. Letting the nightmare sink in as true. That happened to me.
 

He stands up; I think he’s going to leave me alone, but he kicks me hard in the side.
 
I let out a gasp as I try to catch my breath. He kicks me over and over, continuously knocking the breath out of me. All I can feel is the pain.

I walk. I should be crying but no tears come.
 

He covers my mouth with his so that I can’t scream. I can barely breathe, but I wish I could stop breathing when he pushes himself deep inside me. He rips me apart over and over and over...

I walk farther. Side by side with James. I don’t show emotion. I don’t need to. Because on some level, I think I already knew. The nightmares. The panic attacks. This was where they all originated. This attack started the fear.
 

A tear trickles down my face as he flips me over and starts in again. He grabs my breasts and puts all his weight on my chest forcing the air out of my lungs. When I start to drift away, I welcome it. The escape. I don’t feel anything.
 

No more. I won’t let the fear consume me anymore. I won’t let the panic stop me from living. Landon showed me how to stop. I’m not going to let the fear back in. I’m not going to let it stop me from trying to remember. If I can remember horrible, terrifying things that happened to me, then I can remember the good too.
 

I stop walking. We haven’t made it back to the hospital yet, but I don’t feel the need to keep walking. I look up and see we are standing outside of the coffee shop that Landon and I last spoke in. Here. I just need to be here, with Landon.
 

“I think I want that coffee after all,” I say.
 

James just nods and follows me into the coffee shop. The smell of coffee beans immediately overwhelms me. A smell I will forever associate with Landon. I feel my heart racing unevenly in my chest, telling me it’s not ready to face the breakup with Landon. Not so soon. Not after being strong enough to handle learning that all of the horrible things from my nightmares are true.
 

I ignore it, though, walking up to the barista.
 

“Welcome, can I take your order,” the woman says with a large smile plastered on her face. I wonder if she is really happy or if she has just done this job long enough that she can smile that big no matter what is going on in her personal life.
 

“A black coffee please.”
 

I turn to find James to see if he wants anything. But he is standing near the entrance scanning the three tables of people who are busy looking at their phones or computers, not paying him any attention. I shake my head at him. I just need a friend right now, not protection. I don’t get that, though.
 

I reach for my purse before realizing I didn’t grab it before I left Ethan’s hospital room. I dig in my sweatpants pocket but only find my phone. Crap. I can’t even get a coffee.
 

“Here,” James says, handing the barista his card.
 

“Thanks. I’ll repay you.”