A Date with the Devil

by Kira Adams

  “You don’t remember?” There’s no way…he definitely wasn’t that drunk…or was he?

  “Remember what?” he asks, sitting up.

  I shake my head, frustrated. “Nothing…I guess.”

  “No, seriously,” he presses. “What did I do?”

  I can’t help but break out into a small grin. “What makes you think that you did anything wrong?”

  “Because I slept on the couch…I must have been in the doghouse.” He shoots a smile back at me.

  “Really, it’s nothing.” If he doesn’t remember, then I don’t want to refresh his memory. It was awkward enough what transpired last night between us, and I just want things to go back to the way they were—simple.

  He shrugs. “What’s for breakfast?”

  I roll my eyes back at him. “What do I look like? Your chef? Get your ass off the couch and come see the options for yourself.”

  He breaks out into a wide grin. “There’s the Bryce I love.”

  The minute the words leave his mouth, my cheeks start burning up with a vengeance. Did he just say what I think he did? He couldn’t have meant it…I try to dismiss the butterflies that are now swarming in my stomach, making me feel uneasy.

  Tyson doesn’t seem to be affected whatsoever like I am, as he stands and begins making his way to the kitchen. When he notices I’m not in tow with him, he turns around, locking eyes with me. “You coming?”

  “Yeah, right behind you.”

  Get it together, Bryce.

  * * *

  I’m used to being locked up indoors twenty-four hours a day. Tyson on the other hand? He is basically going stir-crazy. I don’t blame him. No one likes to be restricted. He’s already left the house three different times. The first time, he went for a run. The second time he went to the grocery store to get us more snacks. And now? He’s gone yet again in an attempt at renting us a few Redbox movies to keep us occupied.

  It’s eight at night and because it is nearing the end of fall, the sun doesn’t stay out past seven. Because it is so dark for the early hour, it’s deceiving, and I assume it’s later than it actually is.

  Tyson left over twenty minutes ago, and with the nearest Redbox less than a couple of blocks away, he should be back any minute. A loud bang catches my attention along with my heart. It is beating so rapidly, I am having trouble breathing.

  What was that?

  It sounded similar to the loud commotion from the other night. I’m shaking as I peek out the window in the study. It’s difficult to make anything out with the sun gone, but for one split second I swear I see someone looking back at me from across the street. I squint my eyes in an attempt to get a better look, but nothing is there.

  Still jittery and scared, I pull out my phone and text Tyson. Are you almost back?

  I honestly don’t know what I saw outside the window, but the idea that something or someone is out there is enough to have me double and triple-checking every door and window in the house, making sure they are closed and locked.

  Yeah, around the corner. My phone lights up to alert me of his response.

  I begin to calm down, but just as I go to close the blinds in my bedroom, I see something again. This time I am positive it is a silhouette of a person. A man. I can’t see much, but all hairs on the back of my neck stand up when the hooded figure looks up to where I am standing. I jump back from the window, shakily dialing 911, when I hear the front door open and close again.

  I’m so frightened, that I instantly climb inside my closet, crouching down so that I am hidden behind my clothes. I am shaking something fierce as I hear the audible footsteps downstairs and then as they begin to ascend the stairs. I am clutching my phone to my chest tightly, 911 already keyed in, ready to press dial at any minute when I hear his familiar voice.

  “Bryce?”

  I close my eyes and let out a sigh of relief. It’s just Tyson. I’m beginning to feel like a lunatic as I make my way out of my closet, trying to be stealthy. It doesn’t work so well, he is standing in my doorway when I slide open the door and walk out.

  “Bryce?” he asks again, a confused, yet concerned look overtaking his face. “Are you okay?”

  I am beyond mortified. “Yeah, yeah,” I stutter, running my fingers through my hair and shoving my phone into the pocket of my jeans.

  “What were you doing in the closet?” he questions, inching toward me.

  “Nothing.” I want to be better at lying, but I am still shaken up about what I think I saw. I also know how crazy I look, and I don’t want to scare Tyson off.

  He is now directly in front of me, looking down, straight into my eyes. “You can tell me anything.”

  My heart is doing summersaults. Partly because it’s still not fully recovered, and partly because he is standing so close I can feel his warm breath on my cheek.

  “I think I saw something…or someone…outside.” I barely get out in an audible sentence.

  “What?” He rushes past me and to my window, pulling the blinds back and peering out. “Where? What did you see?”

  Okay…so he doesn’t think I’m crazy.

  I walk up behind him. “I thought I saw someone outside across the street. When I looked out the window earlier, I could have sworn someone was out there, watching me.”

  Tyson brushes past me so quickly, it startles me. “Where are you going?” I exclaim as I follow him down the stairs. He is barreling down them, taking two at a time, and headed straight for the front door.

  “Tyson!” I cry out, attempting to get his attention. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to see if anyone is out there.” He begins to fiddle with the lock on the front door, when I stop him.

  “No! Please, I don’t want to be left alone,” I beg.

  Tyson turns to look at me, taking my face in his hands gently. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you but I have to check it out. Lock the door behind me.”

  “But…”

  “No buts,” he cuts me off. He lets his hands drop from my face, but I can still feel the heat lingering from his touch. “I promise, I will be right back. Watch out the window for me, and I will signal when I want you to open back up.” He flips on the front porch light before slipping out the door.

  I quickly lock both the handle and deadbolt and rush to the window, peering outside. It’s dark, but with the porch light on, I can see quite a good portion of the front yard and driveway. I watch as Tyson slinks around the house, cautiously looking for anything out of the ordinary. I lose sight of him when he runs across the street, but see his silhouette illuminated under one of the dim lamp posts.

  My heart is beating in my ear; the suspense killing me. After a few moments I see him jog back over to the front of the house, but instead of heading for the door, he ends up veering off towards the right side of the house. I lose track of him, but hear a huge thud and then bang and my body instantly takes over. I am racing to the door before I have time to process a thought of what is happening.

  “Mother fucker!” I hear Tyson exclaim loudly, and I bolt out the door in the direction of his voice.

  “Tyson! Tyson!” I scream, my feet not moving fast enough.

  As I make it around the side of my house, I see what looks to be our garbage can tipped over, spilled out all over the ground, and Tyson in the midst of it.

  “Tyson! Are you okay?” I rush to his side, helping him stand.

  There is a look of shock playing across his eyes, and his jaw is hanging wide open. “Bryce?” he asks.

  “Are you okay? What happened?” My heart is still piercing my ears, but I have to make sure he isn’t injured. I have to make sure the man I saw from earlier didn’t hurt him.

  He nods slowly. “Bryce…” he pauses, still appearing in shock. “You did it.”

  Did what? Confusion is bubbling up inside me, and then a gust of wind sends goose bumps throughout my body, and I understand what he is referring to.

  This is the first time I’ve been
outside in over a year. My eyes are darting around the yard and neighborhood quickly. “Holy shit.” My hand flies up to cover my mouth.

  “What…what…why?” Tyson, still in shock, can’t even form full sentences.

  “I heard a loud noise, and I thought you were hurt.”

  “I tripped over the garbage can. You really thought I was in trouble?” His eyes are big and wide, trying to piece together how I overcame my debilitating fear.

  I nod. “I’m outside.” The revelation finally hits me as tears begin to well up in my eyes. I am staring up into the sky, breathing in the fresh air, and I’ve never felt more alive.

  Tyson pulls me into him, wrapping his arms around my body tightly. “You did it…you really did it.”

  I smile proudly. “I did it.”

  Tyson releases me. “Remember after the accident, when you were in the hospital?”

  I nod. It feels like an eternity ago.

  “I can still remember the way you flinched at any noise, quiet or loud. You had reoccurring nightmares almost every night, and you barely spoke.” I continue nodding, wondering what point he is getting at. “I used to have one-sided conversations with you.”

  I bob my head in agreement. “I remember.”

  He runs his hand through his hair. “You’ve come so far since then.”

  I think back on the broken girl I used to be. I couldn’t even look at myself in a mirror. I wanted so badly to give up…but Tyson and my family refused to give up on me. They reminded me that everything happens for a reason and that I survived because I was a warrior. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  Tyson pulls my head against his chest. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.” I will never tire of his intoxicating smell. I close my eyes, breathing in deeply.

  We stay out there for another twenty minutes, basking in my victory.

  I faced my fear, and I came out unscathed. It’s the most empowering feeling in the entire world.

  Before

  * * *

  Something is terribly wrong.

  My legs feel like jello as I run quickly to the window that overlooks our driveway. My stomach plummets, making me gag. Robbie’s red Ford pick-up pulls onto the dark pavement. My eyes dart back to the clock on my nightstand. 5:27. I don’t know what he is doing home, but I know if he finds me like this, I’m in trouble. I scoop up all the items scattered atop our bed and throw them into the big duffle bag which is lying at my feet. Once they are secure inside, I zip it up quickly and throw it under the bed.

  I’m shaking uncontrollably, when I hear the front door slam and his loud footsteps downstairs.

  You’re not supposed to be home. You’re not supposed to be home.

  My heart is beating rapidly, and my eyes are darting around the room nervously. He is barreling up the stairs loudly, and I quickly throw myself onto the bed, grabbing a book off my nightstand. I lie back against the pillows and focus my eyes onto the page in front of me.

  I see him outside the door from my peripherals, the beating of my heart steadily increasing. I can’t even focus. The words look blurry to me, I’m blinded by my fear. His fingers reach for my book, pulling it from my hands and throwing it on the ground. He kicks off his boots and then climbs onto the bed, pushing me to the middle.

  Just act normal. He won’t know a thing.

  He reaches over, pulling me into him. “You haven’t even asked me how my day was,” he whispers against my mouth.

  He reeks of alcohol, it smells like he bathed in it.

  “Have you been drinking?” I ask the obvious question.

  Robbie wiggles his finger back and forth in front of my face. “Ask me.”

  I sigh, giving in. “How was your day?” I don’t even recognize my own voice.

  “Terrible. I hate spending time away from you.” He moves his lips across my neck. “What did you do all day?”

  I shake my head. “Just cleaned up a bit and read. I’m not feeling good.”

  He pulls away, his eyes locking with mine. He lifts the back of his hand up, pressing it against my forehead. “You’re not running a fever.”

  “Not that kind of sick, I just have a stomach ache.” I’m hoping he won’t want to get hot and heavy with me if he thinks I have an upset stomach. I’ve been avoiding sex with him for weeks now. Luckily, he hasn’t caught on yet. I’ve been able to convince him that I’ve been on my period and haven’t felt well since.

  Robbie groans and then rolls away from me. He lowers one of his feet to the floor, and then I see his body go crashing down.

  “Babe?” I cry out, surprised. I crawl to the edge of the bed and the handle of the duffle bag is wrapped around his ankle. My stomach tenses up immediately. He rips it away from his body and then glares back at me. As he stands, he places the bag onto the bed slowly, keeping his eyes trained on me. He begins unzipping it, the suspense killing me. He reaches into the bag pulling out my clothes and toiletries.

  “What is this?” he asks in an unusually soft tone.

  “Nothing,” I try to sound convincing.

  “Why the fuck is there a packed bag hidden under our bed?” he bellows loudly straight into my face.

  I’m shaking in terror, just shaking my head back and forth. He drops my personal belongings onto the bed and grabs my wrists pulling me up roughly. His nose is pressed up against mine and his expression is hard. “You little slut,” he hisses under his breath. “I should have known you would leave me the minute after you spread your legs.”

  His words use to hurt like the deepest cuts, but I’m numb to them now. I’m a whore, a slut, a waste of space. I’m a worthless piece of shit, and I deserve to die. I’ve heard it all. I avoid eye contact, tipping my face away from his.

  “Let me go,” I bite out through a tight jaw.

  Robbie doesn’t move an inch. “If I can’t have you, no one can.” His words come out in a threat. I don’t even see his elbow until it’s too late, it collides with my right eye, and I’m down for the count.

  Six: Returning to the Scene of the Crime

  One step.

  One step was all it took to begin to put my life back on track.

  One step was all that was holding me back from everything I had ever been—everything I could ever become.

  Once I faced my fear head on and came out on top, it was as though all of my inhibitions about leaving the house simply faded away.

  Tyson and I spent Sunday morning walking around my entire neighborhood for hours. We could go anywhere, do anything, but he was afraid of pushing me too far, too fast. I was just excited to be able to feel normal for the first time in what felt like forever. I wasn’t confined to the house I had grown up in.

  When my parents came home and I greeted them from the front porch, my mother broke down; cried like I’ve never seen before. Then she began thanking God that a miracle happened. I had to tell her it wasn’t God that made it happen, it was all me. I had it inside me all along…I just needed a little push.

  It’s Tuesday evening and now that I don’t feel like a prisoner anymore, I want to get out and simply do something. I pull out my phone and call Tyson. He’s the only person I can think of celebrating with. He’s the only person I want to be celebrating with. When he doesn’t answer, I don’t let it stop me. For the first time in over a year, I take care in picking out what I will wear. I pull out one of my favorite dresses; it is black and white, with small polka dots on top and large ones on the bottom. It is sleeveless and I pair it with my favorite thick black belt, tights, and cardigan. I haven’t had a reason to wear heels, but tonight is reason enough, so I slip on my black studded heels and give myself a once over in my full-length mirror.