When It All Falls Apart (Book One) (13 page)

BOOK: When It All Falls Apart (Book One)
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I crawled on the ground like a crackhead searching for my bottle. It was nearly empty. I picked it up and drained the last few sips. It didn’t even burn this time. I picked up my phone and saw David had hung up. I tapped his number again. He was still furious.

“I told you the truth. Phil is Rori’s father.”

“God, this is so fuckin sick and twisted. I can’t stand it–”

“I’m so sorry, David. I–”

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t want you to ever tell me you’re sorry again. You’re a fuckin cunt.”

I sat straight up, stunned, as if I’d been shot with a Taser gun. David never used words like that. Ever. Sobs ripped through my body, making me shake like I was having a seizure.

“Are you about done crying? I don’t have time for this.”

“What do you want me to do? I’ll do anything. Anything to make this better.”

“The only thing you can do to make
this
better is to call your boyfriend, whoever he is, and get his ass down to the hospital so this kid has a chance.”

“Don’t call her that.”

“Oh, suddenly, you give a shit about her? Please. You’ve been the worse mother on the planet since she’s been born.”

“Stop it! Just stop it!” My screams reverberated off the walls.

“Guess what? I can say whatever the hell I want to say. We. Are. Done. You’re going to call Phil and get him to take the stupid blood test. Then, you’re never going to see us again. I don’t care if he’s the one who got you knocked up. She’s my daughter and I’m going to do everything I can to save her life. Then, I’m taking her far away from you and all of this.”

“I-I-I...”

“The bitch that always has something to say can’t talk herself out of this one.” His words were fists and they were pummeling me, but I knew I deserved every hit. “Rori’s life depends on this.”

“Don’t you think I know that?”

“I don’t know what you think anymore. I’m pretty sure I never did. Call me after you’ve talked to Phil.”

Dead air.

I was still reeling from his verbal assault, trying not to cry again. I felt like an old milk carton whose contents had been emptied and discarded. How was I supposed to talk to Phil about this? It had taken me two years to be able to look at him without That Night being the first thing on my mind. The thought of it made my skin crawl. The feeling of termites underneath my skin was back and I raked my nails up and down my arms.

I couldn’t talk to Phil sober, but my bottle was empty. I needed more. I got up slowly from the bathroom floor, the walls spinning around me. For a minute, I thought I might pass out but I closed my eyes tightly and willed myself to stay conscious. I took three deep breaths. I steadied myself on my feet. I felt as if I’d been awake for years. How was it possible that it was still the same day?

I stumbled into the parking lot, trying to remember where I’d parked my car. The sunlight hurt my eyes, making me squint in revulsion. I found it in a spot underneath the vacancy sign. I plugged my phone into the charger and immediately looked up the nearest liquor store. There was one four blocks away. I would walk to the liquor store, get another bottle, drink it, and call Phil. I forced myself to stay focused on the task at hand.

I got the same bottle of vodka I’d gotten before—the one with a grey wolf on it. I walked out of the store with another brown bag and took a gulp before I got through the first block. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was what it was like to be an alcoholic. Could you become an alcoholic in one day?

I’d never understood alcoholics, but today I understood the power of alcohol. I welcomed the bubble of insulation it put around me. It was like being covered in a warm blanket of nothingness. My thinking was garbled and unclear, but it was a relief because I didn’t want to think straight. I had no desire to remember anything about this day or That Night. I didn’t want to feel anything except numb.

I paced the small hotel room trying to figure out what to say to him. There was no way I was going to my office. I didn’t want anyone to see me this way, especially not my employees. I was going to have to meet him somewhere alone and the thought of it made me guzzle more vodka. I pulled out my phone again, scrolled down my contacts to his name, and tapped the call button before I lost my nerve.

He answered on the second ring as if he’d been expecting my call. “Hello, Celeste?”

The sound of his voice sent my stomach into my throat. “Yes, it’s me.”

“Hold on a sec.”

My heart was pounding in my chest. My armpits dripped with sweat. I took another drink hoping it would help. The warm liquid spread throughout my body again. I paced back and forth across the small room waiting for him to get back on the line. I kept telling myself not to hang up until finally he was back on the line.

“I heard about Rori. So sorry to hear she’s sick.”

I hated that he said her name. He didn’t deserve to say her name.

“I was wondering if I could talk to you about that.” Somehow I sounded clear and coherent. The words were flowing easily out of my mouth in a logical way, even though I didn’t feel like I was the one formulating them. I was talking but I had no connection to my voice.

“Um, hon, I’m not really sure we should be talking about that.”

How could he call me hon? How dare he? I clenched my fist and gripped the phone with my other hand to keep myself from throwing it again. I couldn’t go through with this, but if I didn’t David would never talk to me again. I’d never be able to live without David speaking to me.

“We have to.” My voice came out authoritative just like it did at work. I was glad I’d had years of practice.

“And what am I going to get out of this?” His voice changed. He was no longer the CEO of my company—the boss I worked under and who’d mentored me since college. He was the guy from That Night.

“Whatever you want.”

He didn’t miss what I was implying.

“Hmm...this just got interesting.” I could hear the amusement in his voice. “You know we can’t do this at the office. Where should we meet?”

I was disgusted with myself. I forced the words out of my mouth. “I’m staying at a hotel. We could meet here.”

“You’re at a hotel right now?”

“Yes.”

“What are you doing at a hotel while your daughter is sick?”

Was he really that delusional? Either he was crazy or I was.

“Can you come?”

“As many times as you want.” He laughed the same way he’d laughed That Night. I shuddered in revulsion. “I can clear my schedule and be there in an hour. Where are you?”

I rattled off the address as quick as I could. I tossed my phone on the bed as if it had burned me. Every wall in the room felt like it was closing in on me. A sudden surge of electricity shot through my body making my hands tingle. There was a loud ringing in my ears. The world swirled around me. I picked my phone back up and texted David.

I’m talking to Phil in an hour.

Let me know when it’s done. Dr. Wilcox is going to need to talk to him. Have him call Dr. Wilcox at 323-810-9756 so they can set things up.

How’s Rori?

Fine.

I’m sorry.

Get the ball rolling with Phil. He might be able to save Rori’s life.

I wanted her to live, but I didn’t want Phil to have any part of saving her. What if they put his organs inside of her? He would be intimately connected with her for the rest of her life. I didn’t want him to touch her or be anywhere near her. He’d already infiltrated her life enough. If he was the one to save her, he would come out looking like a hero. He’d be redeemed of his crime while I would be forever punished for mine.

I noticed the blinds were open. I pulled the string letting the dirty white plastic down. I didn’t want anyone to see in and I didn’t want to see out. I double checked the deadbolt making sure I’d locked it behind me. I threw myself down on the bed no longer carrying what nastiness stained it and started to cry again. I didn’t think I had any more tears left, but they just kept coming.

I sat up admonishing myself to get it together. I had to find a way to calm down before Phil arrived. I couldn’t let him see me in the state I was in. The only thing that could make the situation worse was having him see me emotionally destroyed. I eyed the room for my bottle, spotting it on the small table next to the TV. If I was going to have to talk to Phil about That Night and tell him that he was the father of my child, I was going to be wasted.

Chapter Twelve

P
rimal screams shattered the air. It took me a second to realize the screaming was coming from me. I came to quickly with startling clarity. For the last week, I’d been flung into black space disconnected from my body, watching myself perform from above as if I wasn’t a real person. I’d been watching my life unfold and unravel around me as if I was watching a movie, but suddenly I was present. I was in my body again and acutely aware of who I was. I felt alive, whole, and energized as if I’d just poked my head above the surface of the water after having been submerged. I felt every breath, my heart’s staccato drum, and my blood flowing through my veins. My hands were shaking violently, covered in crimson red. My left hand gripped the lamp stand, broken off at the top forming a sharp jagged point.

I looked down at me feet. Phil’s chiseled face was unrecognizable. His eyes were wide open, gaping in horror. There were deep gashes running in chaos across his face that showed the meat inside. His eyes were swollen shut and bloody footprints stamped his forehead. His head lay in a pool of blood still widening its width on the tattered brown carpet. The shattered pieces of my vodka bottle lay strewn by his body. I dropped the lamp as I fell to my feet.

What did I do?

I didn’t want to touch him. I couldn’t look at him again. I stared at my hands. They were still shaking and slick with fresh blood sliding off my fingers. My rational mind told me to call 911, but another part of my mind had taken over. I got up from my spot and walked to the bathroom in a daze. I ran my hands under the faucet as the blood flowed in a rustic river from my hands and swirled its way down the sink. There were chunks of glass in my palms. One looked as if it was nearly all the way through. I grabbed it with my other hand and pulled it out without flinching. Methodically, I worked my way through the other pieces creating a small pile in the sink. I’d always hated the sight of blood, but I was completely unaffected by it. My hands didn’t belong to me. I laughed out loud—a maniacal cackle. I looked for towels to wrap my hands with, but the towel racks were empty.

I walked back into the room, the taste of copper in my mouth. There was a sharp stinging pain behind my eyes. I eyed the room looking for something to wrap them with since they refused to quit bleeding. The smell of urine and feces permeated the air. My eyes took in the images in quick snapshots. Phil’s motionless body on the floor in front of the door. Red splatters on the wall. Two chairs toppled over. The TV lying on its side next to the stand. The only thing left untouched was the bed. I laughed again. The sound of my laugher foreign to me. I grabbed a pillow from the bed and took the case off. I gripped the case with my teeth and ripped it into uneven halves. I used a piece for each hand tying them tightly around my wounds like a boxer.

I gingerly stepped towards Phil’s body. Ice water shot through my veins as if any minute he might wake up and come at me. I forced myself to crouch down next to him. I couldn’t leave without knowing for sure he was dead. I placed my fingers on his neck. His skin was still warm. I felt for a pulse like I’d seen people do in the movies. There was nothing. I grabbed one of his arms and lifted it up to check his pulse on his wrist. Nothing. I let his arm go and it flopped back down to the floor lifeless. I stood.

I grabbed my keys from the table and took off running for my car as if I was at the starting line of a race and the gun had just been fired. I slid into the seat. My entire body was shaking now. The tremors had travelled from my hands throughout my whole body. I fumbled with getting the keys into the ignition. I pulled out of the parking lot nearly hitting a car as I made a quick left. I drove in the direction of our house. My brain ran wildly as if my thoughts were on a treadmill running so fast I didn’t have time to discern any particular one. I watched myself as I drove to the house screaming at myself to stop, turn around, call 911, but I couldn’t stop. I had no control over my actions. Someone else had taken control over me. I parked in the driveway and walked into my house, but it felt like I was walking into someone else’s life. I was no longer connected to the pictures, the memories, or the details. They belonged to someone else. Someone who wasn’t me.

I moved robotically into the master bathroom and stripped myself of my dirty, blood stained clothes. I left them in a pile on the floor and stepped into the shower, blasting the faucet as hot as it would go. The searing heat scalded my body, but I didn’t care. I let it burn me. I scrubbed my skin until it was raw. I shaved my legs with my pink Gillette razor. There was something eerily calming about performing a ritual I’d been doing since I was eleven years old. When I stepped out, I didn’t feel any cleaner than I had before I got in. I knew I was covered in filth I would never be able to get off. No amount of washing was ever going to cleanse me of my sins.

I fumbled with my dresser drawers as I pulled on fresh clothes making sure I avoided looking at David’s side of the bed. He was never going to forgive me for what I’d done and how I’d destroyed our family. Ever. The man I loved more than any other person hated me. I swallowed the cry in my throat and forced myself to keep moving. I pulled my travel bag from the closet throwing a few sets of clothes into it not caring what they were. I punched in the code on the safe deposit box we kept stored in my closet. The door swung open revealing the envelopes of cash we saved for trips and buying our cars since we never bought anything on credit. My mom had used an envelope system for purchases since I was a little girl and I’d made it a habit in my own life. I grabbed the envelopes of cash and stuffed them into my bag. I left David and Rori our emergency cash fund.

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