Inside Out (2 page)

Jude slipped into the unoccupied seat in front of me. “That bad, huh? Anything I can do to help?”

“Do you have access to heaven’s gate or something? Unless you can walk to heaven and bring back my brother, I doubt your help will suffice.”

His face drained of color. “I, oh Sam, I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m not going to be much help in that area. Though, I hear I’m a pretty decent friend. Care to test that theory?”

I offered a forced smile. His attempts to help heal the hurt didn’t go unnoticed, I just didn’t have much to offer in return for his kindness. “You wouldn’t want a friend like me. I can almost promise you that.”

“Now, that’s not a choice for you to make. I choose who I want to befriend, and you Sam, look like a woman in need of a friend.”

I gulped that last sip of bourbon from the shot glass, turning it up to drain the very last drop of liquid into my mouth. “Looks can be deceiving, or so I’ve heard.” I waved to the waiter, who looked less than eager to bring me another drink. I wasn’t sure why in the hell he was so rude about waiting on me, I was a paying customer and far less obnoxious than the rest of these assholes. “Sir, if I’m some sort of aggravation, why don’t you fetch me another waiter or something.” I hissed through my teeth at the pain in the ass server.

“Sam. Why don’t we head out? I’ll drive you home. Someone can either pick up your ride tonight or tomorrow perhaps? No need to stay here and continue drinking yourself stupid.” Jude barked at me.

I turned my attention away from the dumbfounded waiter to lash out on the new target of my rage “I haven’t laid eyes on you since what? high school? And here you stand bossing me around like I’m some wayward child. Get lost Jude, I’m fully capable of handling this situation on my own.”

“You know, I realize you’re hurting which is basically the only reason I’m dealing with your smartass mouth. If this were under any other circumstances, I’d walk out and leave your ass hanging high and dry. You’re drunk and acting like an irrational child! Get off your ass and march out of that door before I throw you over my shoulder! “Jude’s loud voice reverberated off the walls of the bar, echoing all the way back to our table smacking me upside the head once more.

“You’re so damn pushy! I should have just stayed home, drank my booze there, and worked on that damned poem! Perhaps I would have avoided meeting up with you again! No wonder we didn’t run in the same circles in high school, you’re a mean ass!”

His pissed off expression eased off and was replaced with a trace of amusement. “You write poems, do you?”

I shrugged my shoulders and rolled my eyes. “Not exactly. Bet it would be a lot less difficult than dealing with you though. That poem meant something to me. I couldn’t do it and it pushed me over the edge of insanity, which I was teeter-tottering on to begin with.”

Jude brushed his hand across his shoulder in a playful, yet cocky way, “I’ve been known to be quite the writer. Lyrics, poetry, short stories… that’s all a part of my job description, sugar.”

“Lucky me.” I muttered while I collected my belongings. As attractive as Jude was, his annoying attitude wasn’t something I could tolerate.

“I’d love to help you with whatever it may be that seems to be causing this piss poor attitude.”

I stumbled from the booth, propping the full weight of my body on the table. “Listen, if I needed help, you’d be the last person I’d ask. I’ve been around you less than ten minutes and already I’m ready to punch you square in the nose.”

Standing from his seat, Jude gripped me by the waist in an effort to steady my balance. “Mind at least telling me what the project is about? Who knows, I might be very helpful. Strictly business, mean ass, I promise.”

I struggled to maintain my don’t-fuck-with me approach with his hands wrapped around my waist. I could feel the warmth of his fingertips seeping through the thin blouse. Sensations I’d never felt before bombarded my body. “A poem for Adam.” The words flew out of my mouth, sounding muffled and forced. Just speaking his name stirred up a heart wrenching emotion. “For the paper, I realize it isn’t much, but, it’s all I have left to give.” I shamefully hung my head, glaring at the designs etched into the table top.

“Let me help you. I want to,” his hands glided from my waist to my hands, interlocking our fingers. “What do ya say?”

“I have a boyfriend!” I barked and retracted my hands back to my body, slipping my fingers inside the pockets of my jeans. I stiffened my posture. “Which means holding hands of any sort, comforting or not, is out of the question.”

Jude raised his hands in the air and stepped back a few steps “I didn’t mean anything by that, Sam. I simply wanted to comfort you. I can see the pain in your eyes; it’s eating at you from the inside out. I only wanted to be a friend. Don’t take my efforts to console you the wrong way. My apologies.”

I shrugged my shoulders as I let out a sigh. “No need to apologize, I was just getting everything out in the open. If you still want to help, well, shit, let’s do this.”

A smile crept across his beautiful face. It seemed as though he felt he won the battle. I prayed his intentions were really nothing more than his kind heart reaching out to a bruised and battered one.

“Let’s get you home. You’re barely able to stand on your own. Come on, light weight.” Jude chuckled and reached out for me. I hesitated before stepping forward into his arms. “This is by no means some ploy to get close to you; you’re walking like a toddler learning to take their first steps. I just want to see you get home in one piece.”

“Third street to the left.” I directed Jude in the direction towards my place. “It’s the wooden house with the blue trim. The one that’s falling apart.” I mentally slapped myself for allowing him to bring me home to my pitiful shack. “How will you get home? We could have just ridden in your own car, told you Mitch would have picked mine up.”

“No problem Samantha, a walk would do me some good. I don’t live far anyways. My car will be there tomorrow. The owner of Barlow’s is a good friend of mine. He’ll keep an eye on her.” Jude offered me a smile that set my mind at ease. “You get inside and get some rest. Sleep off that attitude, would ya? Oh, before I forget… are we meeting at my place tomorrow, for the poem of course?”

I watched Jude’s fingers tap the steering wheel in a nervous manner. I deliberated in my own mind whether or not being alone with him was a good idea. Mitch would blow his stack if he knew what my plan was.

“Sure, um, that works. What’s your address? Oh never mind, just text it to me or something. I rattled off my phone number just as he pulled onto the gravel road leading to my place. I scanned the yard, feeling my nervousness rise when my eyes met Mitch’s truck. “Shit. Mitch is home. Just pull over there.” I motioned to the far corner of the yard. I prayed by some miracle Mitch was asleep and Jude could slip away unnoticed.

“Your boyfriend going to be pissed I brought you home? Hopefully he’ll be smart enough to realize it beat the alternative. You driving home as intoxicated as you are could result in something far more tragic than a ride home with a high school friend.”

“Thanks for your help. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t text me that address until tomorrow morning. I have enough explaining to do already.” I waved goodbye as I watched Jude’s shadow disappear into the darkness. Now I’d have to face the wrath of this asshole. With a final deep breath and a silent prayer, I opened the door to the house.

Mitch sat on the sofa with a drink in hand and it appeared as if he’d had a few drinks too many. His eyes were blood shot and the house reeked of alcohol. My prayer to slip into bed and avoid conflict wouldn’t be answered.
Shit. Shit. Shit
. I cursed my own stupidity. I flung the keys on the end table and proceeded to walk through the living room. I felt as though I was walking to the gas chamber.

“And just where have you been?” His tone was so cold and callous. I began to shake as I heard my pulse pounding in my ears. He hardly ever lost his temper, but when he did, I knew right away to stay out of his reach. A lie would have probably been my best option, though I knew my eyes would tell on me. A lie would only infuriate him more.

“I had a rough few weeks, Mitch. You’ve paid no attention to me. I found comfort in nothing. Surrounding myself in Adam’s pictures and favorite cd’s only further depressed me. I went to Barlow’s bar and had a few drinks. Well, a few too many to be honest. A guy from school drove me home, just to ensure my safety.”

He stumbled from the sofa to walk past me and into the kitchen. The vodka bottle was almost empty; I watched the remaining contents flow into the glass. “Who might that old friend be?” The microwave nearly rattled off the rickety shelf as he threw his hip against it, slamming shut the cabinet that the liquor came from. “I saw you through the window. He scurried off in a hurry wouldn’t you say? You two stop off for a little reunion before coming home?”

“What? Of course not! I told you, I was just too drunk to drive. I sincerely apologize for making such a stupid decision. It will never happen again.” I stared at my fingertips, hoping to avoid eye contact with the sight of Mitch and his jealous rage.

“Damn right it won’t, bitch!” He threw the shot glass against the wall, sending shards of glass flying in every direction.

I struggled for words. I couldn’t seem to speak the words aloud that were bouncing around inside my head. I stumbled backwards, taking slow steady strides into the living room. I hoped that he would calm himself if I just kept my distance.

“Did I say I was finished talking to you!?” Mitch’s voice echoed through the house, sending chills of fear down my spine. “Don’t walk away from me, whore!” I froze in shock, realizing his anger had reached a level I’d never encountered before. I scanned the room looking for an escape. The door was too far out of reach, leaving me nowhere to run. He lunged forward, knocking me on my back onto the coffee table. I tried to scream. My mouth was open, but no sound came out. He had knocked the wind out of me. I could taste the salty tears puddle up on my lips. Mitch struck my limp body several times; I lost count after five painful kicks to the ribs. I was almost relieved when my body went numb, only allowing me to feel the vibration of the blows coming from his steel toe boots. I stared at the light from the ceiling fan, watching the shadows it cast against the lightly painted walls. A final blow to my skull sent me into a state of unconsciousness.

I awoke when a glimmer of sunlight seeped through the curtain and cast a ray of golden light across my face. The warmth on my skin felt good. I began to stretch. Without warning, a sharp pain shot through my body, causing me to groan aloud and grab my side. It took several moments to recall last night’s events. I still lay sprawled out across the broken pieces of the wooden coffee table. The house was quiet. I stilled my movements, listening for a sign of Mitch’s presence. The sounds from an antique clock hanging above my head were all that filled my ears. I lifted my battered body from what was left of the table. I limped towards the bathroom. My own reflection was a horrid sight to see. I ran my fingers across the dark bruise under my right eye. “That dirty son of a bitch!” I was flabbergasted. How could someone I had spent so much of my life with, do something so horrendous? My blood stained clothes hit the floor. I would shower, pack, and leave this place without ever looking back.

The warm water soothed my aching muscles. I avoided the sensitive areas as I washed the smell of alcohol, sweat, and cigarettes from my skin. I replayed over and over in my mind the conversation I would have with my mother about last night’s events. I couldn’t hide the beating from her if I planned on moving in with her for a time. Tears of heartache, pain, and confusion streamed down my face.

I applied a generous amount of makeup to the bruise under my eye. Mom was going to freak out when she saw this. I needed to pack up and get the hell out of here before Mitch returned. I was sure my body couldn’t withstand another beating of that magnitude. I stepped into my gray sweat pants and a loose white t-shirt. I glanced down at my outfit and giggled. I looked like shit but at least I felt better. Now, it was time to call my mother.
Shit, this is much harder than I expected. How do you tell your mother your boyfriend beat you senseless?
I paused for a moment on her name, just holding the cell phone in my hand staring at the screen. A memory of Adam giving me a pep talk before prom popped into my mind. I had been stood up by the high school quarter back and decided I wouldn’t attend prom.
I will either drag your ass down there, or you will march to the car and take your ass to that dance. Those are your only two choices. He’s the one missing out on something special.
His words held no relevance to the situation at hand, though they seemed to light the fire under my ass that gave me the strength to carry on.

The phone rang. I tapped my foot on the hardwood floor while I waited for her to answer.

“Samantha, baby, it’s nice of you to call, haven’t heard from you in a week.”

“Hey Mama, I’m sorry. I’ve had a rough time dealing with everything. I’m just calling to see if you mind me staying with you for awhile.”

“Honey, you know I don’t mind. Are you and Mitch having problems?”

My voice shrank a bit while I searched my mind for the right words. “This isn’t just problems. It’s bad, real bad. Mitch beat the hell out of me. I’m done with him forever. I can’t believe he would hurt me this way. The car is technically his even though I’ve paid for it. Would you pick me up, please?”

The line went silent. Great, she hung up on me? I guessed she was either on her way over to help me pack, or worse, on her way to kill Mitch at work. I shoved my belongings into two extra-large trash bags.
Why in the hell hadn’t I ever invested in a suitcase?
I had just finished putting the rest of my clothes in the bag when I heard a knock at the door.
Damn she was fast.
I walked to the door expecting to see my mother wearing the expression that meant she was ready to kick ass. I almost dropped to my knees when I saw this scrumptious eye-candy wearing sweat pants and a plain white t-shirt.