“You know, if you weren’t still in this hospital bed I’d really let you have it.” I said, straightening out her blanket while giving her a dirty look. Diamond had suffered a concussion as a result of my ex-boyfriend Joshua Hewitt. I swore I’d never say his name again as long as I lived but the newspapers and gossip columns weren’t ready for me to forget him yet.
His face was all over the news at night. Reporters were sneaking around trying to get pictures of me, my name having been changed to “the estranged girlfriend of Joshua Hewitt”. Thankfully, I had gotten a hold of my parents and reassured them that everything was okay.
“You can’t believe what is written in the paper these days.” I said adding an uncomfortable chuckle to the end of my sentence.
“Elvis! The King! Yes! That will be this baby’s name. Even if it’s a girl.” Diamond said, her eyes wide, her face smiling brightly.
Leaning backwards I laughed until I almost fell off the side of the bed I was sitting on.
“Come on! You are not taking this task very seriously.” I hopped down and walked to the window pulling the curtains and blinds open. “This is like being in a hotel. You’ve got a beautiful view of the grounds. Geez, only loony-bins and colleges have property like this to walk around and look at. Can you believe it?”
“I know.” Diamond said. “Please tell Marty I said thanks again.”
“I told him all four other times you said it as well as the slurred message of undying devotion you mumbled while you were under those pain killers.”
“Yeah. Those were nice.” She said dreamily. “But tell him again. I had insurance. I know none of this was his fault. I could have handled the hospital stay on my own.”
“We know you could have but you’d be at County sharing the room with some old lady named Blanche who suffered a stroke or dementia or both. She’d be rambling about her dead husband and ungrateful kids thinking you were stealing her skin cells one at a time. We couldn’t live with ourselves leaving in a place like that.”
“I can’t say I don’t like a private room.”
I looked back at her and smiled as hot tears filled my eyes.
“No, Natasha. Not again.” Diamond said, crying just a little herself. We had been going on and on like this for the past three days. We’d cry and look at each other knowingly but not say a word about what really happened that night.
“I can’t help it.” I mumbled pitifully. “If I didn’t…”
“Didn’t what? Go on a date with Joshua? Introduce me to him? He would have found me anyway. Hell, Nat, he was following you everywhere. Even if I had never laid eyes on him he would have cornered me. Nothing was going to stop him from getting to you.”
I looked down at the tiles on the floor. My bare toes wiggling against the cold laminate squares.
“Thank heavens for Ray, right?”
“Oh, what a nice guy he is.” Diamond said wiping her eyes.
When I couldn’t get Diamond to pick up the phone to tell her I had arrived at my parent’s house I immediately called Marty. I wasn’t sure what he could do to help but I knew he was a better bet than the police. They wouldn’t do anything until she was missing for twenty-four hours and even then, what could they do? They would be polite and reassuring saying that in most instances the person shows up a day or two later. In most instances that probably was correct. But I knew different. I knew the poisonous element in my equation that was missing from all those others. No. I called Marty and managed to tell him what was happening and where I was just before I heard the glass break. Then the phone went dead.
Suddenly the home I had grown up in became a carnival funhouse with a maze of dark corners and deep shadows that could hide a full grown man, a strong man with ill intensions.
My parent’s home was a beautiful Cape Cod. As you stepped in the house there was a hallway that lead to the left to the front room and to the right was the kitchen. Before hitting the kitchen was a set of stairs that lead to the bedrooms and bathroom. Across from the stairs was a door leading to the basement. It wasn’t a mansion but it was my home, cozy with loving memories of Christmases and birthdays and coming home from school and hundreds of other every day, average occurrences that suddenly became tainted. This unwelcomed devil was oozing his evil and hatred all over everything that had felt so pure and safe just a few seconds earlier.
I hadn’t brought my cell phone ,figuring there was a good possibility Joshua had had a GPS on it. It was the only way I could figure he always knew where I was.
Using the landline proved to have its own drawbacks. Like when someone snips the cable that connects it to the poles that connect it to any kind of help.
Holding my breath I listened. Every creak and snap that I know I had heard a million times before throughout my life as this house settled became threatening.
Hanging up the phone and looking across the foyer I stared at the front door. It seemed miles away. Then, my hand instinctively went to my belly. It wasn’t just me. My heart sank into a pool of terror as I thought that I might not be able to protect this little angel.
“Nat.” I couldn’t be sure if it was him or my imagination but it sounded sinister like something that was hissing and talking at the same time.
From where I was standing I couldn’t tell if the sound of breaking glass came from the upstairs or the basement. I inched my way backwards and quietly slip a small knife from the wood block that stood on counter. It was either that or a meat fork with the two prongs. How many years had my parents kept that half empty wooden block in the same place? I had decided at that moment what I was buying them for Christmas this year. If I made it that far, I thought morbidly to myself.
Holding the little knife down low and as concealed as possible I tip-toed down the hallway listening and stood between the basement door and the landing of the stairs. I couldn’t hear anything.
“Nat!” It called louder this time making me jump and whirl around. Nothing was there. I had had enough. Before I could turn completely around and dash for the front door I went sprawling across the floor. Instantly, I grabbed my stomach with one hand and tightened my grip of the small paring knife with the other. Rolling over I saw him emerge from the shadow next to my father’s grandfather clock. He had beaten me there. He had to have gotten there before me.
“Natasha! You need to be more careful.” He said pulling his leg in. Was he hoping I would have landed on the knife? Did he know I had it? Did he know I was pregnant? And if he did, did he hope it would hurt or worse, kill my baby?