by L M Terry
My finger just touched the glass as Mr. Bond appeared. I know it’s him. It has to be him. I haven’t felt safe since him. Oh, god, maybe it’s not him.
Definitely not him.
“Hey, that douche bag that was up here just spiked your drink. I’ll order you another one, what are you having?” a gravelly voice says over the moans of the woman getting whipped on the stage behind us.
It.
Is.
Him.
Of fuck, what is James doing in the middle of a sex club? He must be here working, waiting to save someone. That is what he does, he saves people. Is he here to save me? I want to ask but all I can get out is, “I was just about to leave anyhow. Thank you but I’m fine.”
He gets his drink and walks away. The minute his warmth leaves my side fear returns. I swallow hard, there is only one thing to do. Either James will save me, or they will take me. I pick up the glass and down it all in one shot, licking the rim of the glass for the last drop.
Seconds later James is back by my side. “What the fuck did you just do?”
“Shit. Fuck. Shit.” What did I do? Oh my god how stupid. Afraid and stupid is a deadly cocktail.
James pushes a napkin in front of me with a pen telling me to write down my address and a friend’s phone number. I don’t have any friends. Lizzie but she over a thousand miles away. Mrs. Chan? I could put her number down. No, not Mrs. Chan, I don’t want her to know what I did. Forget it, I’ll just put my address down. James is angry, he was definitely not here to save me or anyone else for that matter. He seems very annoyed that he is going to have to pause his evening to do so. Fuck. I slide the napkin back to him. He asks for my phone, fiddles with it a minute and then tells me to shove it down my pants. Oh god this is happening.
“Get up and walk outside while you still can. They will follow. They will shove you in their creepy van or whatever the fuck it is they are driving. Don’t worry though, they won’t get far. I’ll make sure you get home and I’ll call your friend. Got it?”
How am I going to walk away from him again? His angry tone prompts me to answer quickly and scamper away. As the door closes behind me I wonder if I dreamed that James was here. Did I see him before I swallowed the drug or after? I sway slightly grabbing hold of the light post out front. Shit, I haven’t been this messed up since my vodka drinking days with Lizzie.
The minute the guy that spiked my drink touches my arm I panic. I try to tug away from him, but he forcefully pushes me forward and shoves me into the backseat of a car. His friend hops in the driver’s seat and pulls away before I can turn to see if James is following.
Oh, my god. What have I done? I am crazy. Certifiably.
“Hey tough girl, you like it rough?” the guy next to me asks. He grabs my thigh pulling my legs apart. Oh, shit. I try to focus but it’s hard when there are two blurry images of him floating in front of my face. Everything is getting cloudy and my thoughts are scattered. This was so stupid. The two of them are laughing at me, but I can’t do anything. Everything is spinning so I close my eyes. Please let me pass out, please let me pass out, please let me pass out.
“Fuck! It’s a goddamn cop,” the guy from the front seat yells.
Thank god.
“Stick to the script man, she is just a friend who has had too much to drink. Be cool dude. What’s your name sweetheart?”
I can’t answer. I just groan, everything is revolving, and I think I am going to throw up.
The car rolls to stop which I am very thankful for. The man next to me wraps his arm around my shoulder making it seem as if I am his girlfriend.
“License and registration please,” a voice says through the window.
I peel my eyes open groaning as the strobe of blue and red make everything look even more fucked up. Another officer approaches on the opposite side of the car shinning his flashlight in the backseat.
As the driver hands over his paperwork the officer asks him to please step out of the car. About that time the back door opens, and the other officer asks the man with his arm around me to do the same.
“Is there a problem here officer?” he says.
“Just please step out of the car, sir.”
As soon as the man slides out I lean over to the open door and heave. What the hell did they give me? After that everything becomes a blur. I can’t keep my eyes open. Someone tells me that it will only last a few hours.
Eventually awareness returns and with-it sheer mortification of what I have done. The doctor and nurse attending me are very nice despite my bad judgment. They ask if there is anyone they can call for me and I tell them no. I tell them I will call a cab and that I’m feeling much better and would like to go home. They give each other a sad look and then vanish behind the curtain leaving me alone.
They bring in my release papers offering me a number of some counselor. I know the drill. The nurse pats my leg and tells me a friend of mine showed up and is waiting outside for me. I don’t have any friends. I wonder if somehow Mrs. Chan found out, she owns the building I live in, they must have called her. The nurse hands me my things and walks me out. The door slides open and there waiting in the patient pickup is James. My eyes lock on his, he slowly blinks once before opening the door of his shiny black car for me.
The nurse walks over with me and helps me inside. “Take care honey, and please be careful in the future while out drinking. This happens more often than one would imagine, you are not alone.”
I offer her a weak smile and James closes the door. He speaks with the nurse for a few minutes before rounding the car to get in. I hold my breath. It’s James. It’s really him. He saved me not once but twice.
“I would have been here sooner, but I had to sober up,” he says as he puts the car in gear.
“Thank you.” What do you say to a stranger who just saved you from who knows what? So, just like last time a simple thank you is all I get out.
“So, why did you do that after I told you the drink was spiked?”
I chew at the black polish on my nails.
“Do you have some sort of abduction fetish? Cause I have to say what you did was completely stupid. Do you know how many people are trafficked each year?” He looks at me waiting for a response before turning his eyes back to the road.
“Hundreds of thousands,” I whisper. I know all too well. I was a number midst the statistics once.
“So why? I know you don’t know me, but you are lucky that I was in that bar tonight or who knows where you would be right now or if you would even be.”
His words hit me like a knife in the gut. He is correct, if he hadn’t been there what would have happened? Is that what I really want, someone like those men to force me, to take my virginity? No, but I can’t take living the life I currently am. Hiding in my little apartment. So afraid of everything I can’t even go to a grocery store. Mrs. Chan brings my groceries to me each week. I only leave my haven once a week and sometimes not even then.
He drums his fingers on the steering wheel waiting for a response. He has saved me twice the least I can do is answer his question. The answer is simple. “I have panophobia, which is basically the fear of everything. I was hoping that I could find someone willing to, um, to make me do things.” I blush and turn to look at the lights of the city tracing by.
“Maybe you should see a professional for that instead of taking matters into your own hands in a bar,” he says harshly.
“I’ve tried. Actually, I’ve all but given up hope. Don’t worry I won’t try anything as stupid as that again. Lesson learned.” I wish I could sit in James’s car forever. It is so him, just like I imagined it would be, fast, sleek and sexy. Definitely something you would find in a Bond movie. Even though it looks like it could be a death trap, I feel safe with him driving.
I watch as his hand rests on the gear shit. His fingers are long, manly, the veins travel up under the cuff of his shirt to what I assume are muscular arms. I wish I could see them. He has been in long sleeves bot
h times I’ve seen him. It’s weird seeing him again after eight years. He doesn’t remember me and why would he. He has probably saved thousands of young girls.
“So, what exactly are you afraid of? Like heights, water, shit like that?” he asks pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Um, it’s everything I guess. Everything you said but more. Grocery stores, people, animals, bugs, buildings….it would probably be easier to list what I’m not afraid of.”
“Okay, so what is the cure? Isn’t there some medication or shit you could take?”
I laugh. “There are drugs that work for some people, but I am too afraid to try them. Besides, drugs just mask the problem they usually don’t cure it. Immersion therapy might help but I’m too afraid to go the sessions. That is why I thought if someone would just force me to break through one fear then maybe it would be a start.”
“I see,” he says. “So, this immersion therapy is basically just introducing you to your fears and acquainting yourself to them until the fear dissipates?”
“I guess, something like that but how do I do that when I’m afraid to even begin?”
He nods in understanding. “Fear is a powerful thing. What caused it or have you always been like this?”
My therapist asked the same thing. I know what it was, it was Ted. He made me afraid of everything. He made me see that there are monsters and bad things around every corner. One is never safe. The day in the grocery store it hit me like a ton of bricks. I picked up a Chinese noodle container to throw in my cart and that is all it took to break me. My stepdad was supposed to be taking me to get Chinese for my mom and he didn’t. He took me to a truck stop to profit off me sucking some guys dick. The fear just took over, it settled deep inside me and spread its black tentacles around my soul.
I guess I’ll tell him the same thing I told my therapist because that is easier than the truth. No one would believe me anyway. “I found my dad when I was fifteen hanging from the banister in our home. That is my guess. It didn’t happen right away though. I was in a grocery store one day when I was nineteen and it just hit me, that was seven years ago.”
He sighs deeply as he pulls onto my street. “You didn’t write down a number of a friend. No friends or family?”
“No, Mrs. Chan helps me, she owns the building and the nail saloon under my apartment. I have one good friend, but she lives out of state. Thank you for helping me tonight. I’m sorry I ruined your evening.”
“You didn’t ruin my evening. My night was spoiled before it even began so don’t worry about it. I’ll walk you up.” He points to my apartment.
He walks around to open my door for me. He tips his arm out for me to take. It is such a gentlemanly thing to do. I’ve never had someone offer me their arm. I gaze into his eyes, silver and grey. I must look a mess and he looks like he stepped off a magazine cover. I have spent hours, hours, fantasizing about what it would be like to see him again. This was not how I pictured it.
I fumble for my keys in my purse. My hands are shaking again. I don’t know if they are shaking because I’m afraid he will come in or because I’m afraid he won’t. He takes my purse from me and pulls out my keys. He magically finds the correct key and opens the door for me. We stand there for a long moment peering into the dark of my apartment.
“Would you like to come in?” I ask. This is a first for me, I have never asked someone into my apartment. No one comes in except Mrs. Chan. Ever.
“Sure,” he waltzes in as I turn on the lights.
It is a one room apartment. Everything is in order. Everything has a place. Most of it is hidden.
“You like simplicity I see.” He laughs lightly, circling the tiny place. I sense he is looking for something to give him a clue about who I am. He has that investigator twinkle in his eye as they flit around trying to discover what kind of girl drinks a spiked cocktail willingly.
He takes a seat on my sofa patting the spot next to him. I ignore his request. Instead I busy myself grabbing two waters from the fridge. I set one in front of him on the coffee table and then take the seat in the recliner next to the couch. He smiles but doesn’t say anything.
“I know someone who might be able to help you. He is a psychiatrist, the best I’ve ever known. Give me your phone and I’ll put his number in your contacts. His name is Luis Sharp. Call him tomorrow.”
“Thank you, but I’ve tried that sort of thing. It doesn’t help. I don’t think anything will.” I hand him my phone, just so he will touch it. I watch as his fingers glide over the screen. When he looks up I quickly drop my eyes to my lap.
“Well, I should be going. One last thing, are you suicidal? You did something very dangerous tonight. Are you sure you will be okay alone?”
The sincerity in his eye’s grips at my heart. He is leaving me, again. I could tell him who I am, that he saved me once before, but what good would that do? Look at him and look at me. Someone like him would never be interested in me. “I’m too scared to do it, you don’t have to worry. I’m fine as long as I stay in my apartment. Thank you again for your help.”
He nods once and stands. He pauses at the door. “Call Luis tomorrow, try and get some rest.”
I shake my head offering him a small smile as he shuts the door.
Fear flies in just before the door closes and blankets me once again. I crumble. Life sucks, plain and simple. I drag myself to bed and hide under the covers. I put everything about James to memory, playing our short time together over and over in my head as I fall asleep.
Anthony
◆◆◆
I’m not sure what happened tonight but I can’t get that dark little creature out of my head. Her eyes, emerald green. Black and green pretty much sums her up. It was nice being the hero again. I’ve missed it. It’s what I do to stay ahead of my demons. Live fast, live hard, be the hero and if I do all that I seem to stay ahead of it.
When I got home, I cleaned the entire place. Showered and even shaved. I’m back. Danielle did that for me. The police gave me her name. It’s beautiful. She helped me remember who I am. There is just something about her that cries out to me. I have an idea of how I can help her, but it is crazy. Fucking certifiably crazy. Fifty fucking crazy shades of grey crazy. No, it is crazier than that.
First, I’ll let Luis have a shot, that would be the responsible thing to do. I’m almost hoping Luis can’t help her so I can step in. She needs help, she does. It should be him to help, because she woke something up in me. Something that would probably frighten her more than anything that she currently fears. I want to drink her tears and swallow her screams. I want to poke at her demons and entice them to come out and play. Her pale skin would look so beautiful tied in my ropes. No, I can’t. The girl has serious problems. I need to leave her alone. I gave her Luis’s number and he will help her.
As dawn breaks I grab my cell, before I call Luis I put her number in my contacts. Yes, I looked at her number and set it to memory. I know I’m breaking some boundaries here but fuck it, I did save her life so I should be entitled to her phone number, right?
“Anthony! Long time no hear,” Luis’s rich voice glides through the receiver.
“Yeah, yeah I know. I’ll call Liam later. I’ve been busy.”
“Have you?”
“Yes, I have. You know always full throttle ahead. But, anyway, I met a woman who needs some help. I hope it is okay I gave her your number. She has panophobia or some shit like that. She is a mess, I thought maybe you could give her some advice.”
“I don’t know how much help I can be over the phone but, I would be happy to speak with her.”
“Great her name is Danielle. I’ll call back this evening to see how it went.”
“Okay, Anthony, but you need to call one of the guys. They are worried about you. Why have you not been returning anyone’s call?”
“Been busy, Luis. It’s good.”
“Anna and Dylan are having a big fourth of July blowout at their new cabin and we will be celebrating So
phia’s fourth birthday. I expect to see you there.”
I let out a long sigh. “Yes, I know. I’ve gotten the hundreds of texts and voicemails. I’ll see what I can do.” I’m not going. I can’t. They all have someone, even Luis has someone. He and Mrs. Cortez married last summer, they eloped to Vegas. The photos they shared were a hoot.
I love all of my friends. To be honest they are more than friends they are family. But, every time I’m around them my chest aches, it’s as if they remind me of what I’m missing. That last bit of the puzzle, whatever it is…just something.
“If I have to come and pick you up myself I will, son. You will be there.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll call or text later to see about Danielle. Talk to you soon, and thanks again.”
“I’m always here for you, Anthony. You know this. See you soon.”
The coffee has finally worn off and I hear my bed calling. Sleep and then I’ll begin working on my plan to help Danielle…that is if Luis can’t help her. Yes, I must let him try first. He is definitely the man for the job, he is my best friend’s dad and the most honorable man I know.
But, there is a part of me that can’t let it go. I want to take matters into my own hands, literally. My plan is one that might lead me down a road that I’m not sure I should travel but one that I am definitely intrigued by.
Chapter Three
Danielle
◆◆◆
Iwake up to one hell of a headache and of course my friend fear. I stumble to the kitchen grabbing a bottle of water. Stupid, Dani, very stupid. A knock on the door makes me jump.
“Dani. Open door girl, my hands fall off.”
I open the door for Mrs. Chan. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching the time.”