My Redemption Too: a Second Chance series

by S. K. Lessly

  “Let’s start over. Who Knows? Maybe this time we won’t mess up!” -Unknown

  13

  Lauren

  I woke up the next morning with a huge smile on my face. Paul said he loved me. He had told me the same thing months ago, but hearing it fall from his lips again, after so much time had passed, made me feel giddy inside. When he confessed how much he needed me and ached for me also had me bawling like a baby. I wanted to tell him I loved him too, but I couldn't speak, I was so emotional. Guaranteed, I would be telling him just how much I loved him and so much more when we talked on Saturday. I also had plans to jump him the second I saw him. This was the second chance I’d been dreaming about, and nothing was taking this chance away from me.

  I began to think of all the ways I would show Paul just how much I loved him, when my happiness came crashing down. I remembered Eugene, the freaking creeper psycho, was coming over today, and just like that, it felt like a weight was taped to my chest.

  I was dreading confronting Eugene. The breakup was necessary even more than before, but I just wasn’t sure how he would take the brush off. I hadn’t seen him in weeks, so he had to know what was about to happen, right? There was no way he thought this meet up was anything but an ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ conversation.

  I slowly rose out of bed and padded to my bathroom. My body hurt all over. In fact, it felt worse today than yesterday. I took a long hot shower to ease my sore muscles. When I got out, I quickly moisturized my body and threw on an oversized t-shirt and leggings. It was only eleven in the morning. I had five hours to kill before Eugene arrived. I decided to clean up a bit to pass the time away. I grabbed my phone off my nightstand and saw I had two text messages both from Paul.

  I smiled, thinking of our conversation last night. I didn’t want to get my hopes up. For all I knew, maybe after sleeping on it he came to his senses, and that’s what these two text messages were telling me.

  Shit.

  I quickly opened his text messages; my breath caught in my throat as I read. When I was finished, my worry quickly vanished. I closed my eyes and brought my phone to my chest. God, I missed him. He could say the simplest of words, and I was always putty in his hands.

  Oh, what did he say? Nothing much. The first message was a simple one. He just said good morning beautiful, and he couldn’t wait to see me in two days.

  The other message, well…

  The other message read, “I’ve missed you so fucking much. I can’t wait to show you just how much.” There was no second-guessing what his agenda was come Saturday, I tell you that much.

  He’s such a sweetheart.

  Anyway, I made my way downstairs and started my housework. I took my time cleaning, not wanting to overdo it. I could feel another headache coming on, and I didn’t want it to ruin my night stuck in the bed in pain. It would also mean I would have to go to the hospital to be checked out, and I definitely didn’t want to do that. I hated hospitals. They were so sterile and depressing. I swear that every time I entered one, I’d get sick with a cold like two days later.

  * * *

  Before I knew it, four o’clock was fast approaching, and I had no idea what I was going to say to Eugene. I had collapsed on the couch and waited for my guest to arrive, my body tight with apprehension. I grabbed my phone and placed it next to me, making sure it was on and the ringer up.

  Eugene was very punctual, as usual, and arrived at my door at exactly four.

  I gave him a quick hug and escorted him to the couch.

  “How have you been?” he asked me as we sat down.

  “Good, I’m good.” I paused and looked at my hands in my lap still unsure on how to do this. I was never the one to be at a loss for words. I was one of those people that said whatever was on my mind, feelings be damned. This was different. I had no idea how to tell him I didn’t want to see him again without being rude and ignorant.

  Eugene sighed audibly and broke the ice for me.

  “Look, Lauren. I know things have been a bit strained these last few weeks. I think if we just talk about it and get to the bottom of—"

  “I don’t think this is going to work between you and me,” I confessed, cutting him off immediately.

  The shock on his face was comical at best, confusing at worst. He had to have known this was going to happen.

  “What do you mean this isn’t going to work? I think we're working just fine, besides the last few weeks. I gave you what you needed, space.”

  He scooted closer to me and pulled my hand from my lap. He laced his fingers with mine and squeezed.

  “Lauren, I know you wanted to just be friends, but come on. You know damn well we're more than that. We have a connection that can't be ignored. I can see in your eyes how much you want to be with me. You’re just afraid.” You got that right. I’m scared as hell, but it’s because you’re a psycho. “I think, no, I know, we are right for each other. Give us a fighting chance. I’m falling hard for you.”

  Good God.

  Eugene started to bring my hand up to his lips, but I pulled my hand back and put some distance between us.

  “Eugene, you’re...” I began, ready to call him crazy, but paused to take a deep breath then started again. “I don’t know how you could believe this could work between us. There are so many reasons why it wouldn't work, I can't even get into it right now, and to be quite honest I don’t want to. You and I had fun together, but now it’s time to move on. I’m sorry.”

  Eugene suddenly shot up from the couch and started pacing in front of me. I leaned back surprised at his abrupt movement. When his back was turned, I quickly grabbed my phone and placed it in my lap before he brought panicked eyes to me. The look in his eyes made me lean deeper into my couch. I wasn’t sure if I needed to call 911 or not, but I was ready.

  “Lauren, I know you’re scared, okay, but I assure you, this is the right thing to do. I’m right for you.”

  “Eugene, I don’t feel the same as you.” I countered, not holding back despite the freak out festering inside of me. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. You were cool to hang around with, but that’s it. Can't you see that? I’m not right for you, and you’re not right for me. It’s nobody’s fault it’s just the way it is.”

  Eugene stood there silent and closed his eyes. When he opened them, something had shifted inside those dark orbs of his. No longer were they panicked and pleading. They were dark and cold. I shivered involuntarily and realized I had made a grave mistake letting him come here.

  “What’s wrong with me, Lauren?” He asked his voice dark and low. “What? I’m not white enough for you?”

  “What?” I drew in a sharp breath as I spoke.

  “You heard me,” he retorted derisively. “You don’t think I know what’s been going on the last few weeks. You can whore yourself to these white men, but I'm not good enough for you. What should I do, bleach my skin then I’ll be right for you?”

  “Excuse me?”

  I stood feeling the anger beginning to overcome the fear I had a minute ago.

  “Oh, don’t pretend you’re innocent because you’re not. I saw those white fuckers coming up in here and staying all wee hours of the night.”

  I walked around my table and stood in front of him. I was beyond angry at this point; I was livid.

  “Were you spying on me? I can’t believe you.”

  “Don’t go changing the subject. You made me do this.” He pointed a long finger in my face that only stirred my anger.

  “Oh, I made you spy on me? What are you? A fucking psycho?” I barked not caring that I just called a psycho a psycho. This fool was crazy.

  But Eugene kept rattling on as if he didn’t hear a word I just said.

  “Yeah, you’re a lying whore, telling me that your brother came into town for a convention. There was no fucking convention that week. Hell, I bet he wasn’t even your brother. Was he your pimp?”

  Yup, I was seeing red at this point.

  “Fuck you,
Eugene! You are out of your mind. You need to get out of my house, now!”

  I stepped aside so he could get the hint and leave, but again he ignored me.

  “I’ll leave when I’m finished.” He countered then stepped closer to me. I readied myself for a fight that I felt in my gut was coming. “Tell me, Lauren. Is that what you like? To be pimped out? Did he set up those dates so that you could fuck those white crackers? Is that why you’re pushing me away because you knew I caught on to your little games?”

  “No,” I replied coldly getting in his face. “I told you to leave me alone because, one, you’re fucking creepy, two, you’re fucking psycho, and three, your cheating ass is married with a kid. And …Mr. pot calling… your wife is white. What the fuck?!”

  I saw recognition in his eyes from my words, and that gave me the fuel for the fire building in my belly.

  “Yeah, fuck face. I know your secret. You’re a fucking hypocrite, a cheater, and a liar. You have the audacity to preach to me about who I see, as if that’s any of your business, and you’re married...” I moved closer and raised my voice. “…to a white woman! On top of that, you’re cheating on her with me. Well, that shit’s not happening. I’m not going to stand by and let you get away with this.”

  “You threatening me?” he said on a growl, his voice low and menacing.

  “I want you out of my house and never come back, or yes, I will tell it all.”

  Question, have you heard people say that during a life-threatening situation they’ve seen their life flash before their eyes? Well, that didn’t happen to me. However, I did see stars from a vicious blow to my face.

  I collapsed on my knees, the room spinning, and my head throbbing. The side of my face was on fire with pain, my ear was ringing from the blow, and I felt blood in my mouth. I blinked a few times and tried to get my bearings.

  The creep was close to me, hunched over saying something I couldn’t understand. I only knew he was talking because I could feel his hot breath on my neck. I started to stand, grabbing my face still trying to get myself together.

  I couldn’t believe this son of a bitch just hit me.

  So, I evened the score.

  I went for my favorite sweet spot and punched the shit out of his junk on my way to my feet. Then I introduced his face to one of my most powerful upper hand punches of my life. He staggered back, and I went to grab a glass vase sitting on my side table, and I flung it at his head. He ducked quickly, and I used his hesitation to head for my door. Unfortunately, he was too quick. He grabbed me by my hair and slammed me face first against the wall next to my door. Pain exploded throughout my face. The agony in my head was blinding and my nose hurt like a son of a bitch.

  The fucker slammed my face again and again. I was beginning to get dizzy, the room spinning out of control, disorientation settling over me. Blood poured from my nose and I could feel my knees buckling. I wanted to fight back, I willed my body to move, to kick, or punch or scratch his eyes out, but my brain was unable to fire off any messages that I was screaming at my body to obey.

  I suddenly felt the grip in my hair tighten. I wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but I felt his free hand trace along the front of me. He groped my breasts, tried to stick his fingers inside the front of my leggings.

  My eyes grew wide. Fuck no, no, no.

  “You’re just like all the rest of them,” he seethed close to my ear, his breath chilling me. “You don’t know when you have a good man until it’s too late.” He moved to the other side of my head, his free hand moving away from my body. The thought of him raping me filled me with dread. I had no idea where my phone was to call for help. I couldn’t fight back. I was pinned to the wall with his body. I was trapped. I was done.

  “On my way over here, I contemplated giving you another chance.” He raved on, the sound of his voice deadly and cold. “But you blew it. You fucking blew it.” The tone of his voice then took on a sound that made my entire body go rigid with terror. “You think I’m just going to let you go after what you just said?” He suddenly yanked my head back, and I immediately brought my hand to my neck. “You’re sadly mistaken.”

  I felt as if something pulled at the skin on the side of my neck. It stretched to the right and across the back of my hand. I looked at his hand frantically wondering what he had just done to me. The second I saw the gleam of the knife in Eugene's hand, blood dripping from the steel surface, my eyes grew wide from shock. At the same time, pain erupted along my hand. The son of a bitch just cut my hand but… but wait. There was so much blood running…

  It took a while for my brain to register why I felt warm metallic-smelling liquid flowing down the side of my neck and chest. That’s when I realized where all the blood was coming from.

  Oh, God!

  As soon as it registered what happened, Eugene slammed my head against the wall hard, and I fell. I immediately brought my hands to my neck, despite the weakness I started to feel. Blood wasn’t gushing through my fingers, which I guess was a good thing. It gave me time to do something, what, I didn’t have a clue.

  I felt a devastating kick to my ribs, once, twice but I managed to concentrate on holding my neck instead of the pain he was inflicting on me. I fell on my side praying that he wouldn’t hit me again, that he wouldn’t snatch my hands away and hold me down while I bled out.

  I had to get out of here.

  Nothing else mattered.

  The sound of my blood whooshing out of my body filled my ears. I was growing weaker by the second. I could feel my shirt sticking to my chest. I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer.

  I laid there trying to concentrate on breathing and slowing my heart rate. I wasn’t sure if that would slow the blood flow. I freaking doubted it. I opened my eyes, not even realizing that I had closed them and saw his fleeting figure disappear upstairs. That’s when I started to move. I struggled to get to my knees and crawled or slid along my own blood over to my door. It took forever for me to get there, but I finally made it.

  I used the door handle as leverage and slowly pulled myself up. I stumbled a few times before I was able to stand. I was getting so weak, and my arm was getting very heavy. I wanted to let go so badly, but I wanted to try to see if someone would help. After all, that’s what I was praying to God for, for help. Nevertheless, since faith without works is dead, I thought I’d better try and help save myself before I died. God dying by the hand of this lunatic would suck.

  I stumbled out of the door and staggered down the sidewalk towards the corner of my block, away from my house and away from the darkness that seemed to be following me as I walked. Please someone help me, I cried out, or at least I think I did. I wasn’t so sure.

  God, I was so cold.

  I stopped along the sidewalk and stood there, unable to make my legs move any further. Darkness was so close that I could feel it. It felt warm and inviting, which was odd. I thought darkness would be cold and scary. But being in the light didn’t feel right either.

  I was so cold. Maybe the darkness could warm me up. Yeah, maybe if I let go, I could rest a bit. I was so tired. I started closing my eyes, letting go of the light, when suddenly I heard something rumbling in the distance. It was so loud that my whole body shivered from the sound. It sounded like thunder. Was it God? Goodness, I hoped so.

  In that moment, for some strange reason, I felt warm and safe. A small voice whispered in my ear telling me it was okay, and I could finally let go. Relief washed over me, but I fought just a second longer. I wanted to see God’s face. It had to be him speaking to me, right? He was making me feel safe.

  I opened my eyes, and all I saw was Paul’s handsome face. He was smiling at me, and I think I smiled back and waved, I couldn’t be certain. What I was certain about was that he was here. Paul was here just in time for me to say goodbye. Unfortunately, I couldn’t tell you if I said goodbye or not because darkness finally caught up with me.

  Paul

  “You’re a fucking idiot that�
��s what you are!” I exclaimed, shaking my head at one of my guys.

  I was back with my squad, and we were making our way back to the firehouse after stopping to grab some pizzas. John was telling us some unbelievable story about some woman he had hooked up with, pre-wife, who used to meow like a cat when she came.

  John’s stories were always over the top and slightly unbelievable, but the entire team loved them. They always fed into his bullshit.

  “Seriously, Wolf.” He looked at me, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “She meowed all night long.”

  We laughed again, and I looked out the window of the truck and realized we were close to Lauren’s street. As we pulled up to her intersection, I turned my head toward her side of the street unable to prevent the smile plastered on my face. I couldn't wait to see her. In fact, when I looked down her street, I was surprised to see her standing there. I just stared in disbelief unable to speak.

  In that moment, I noticed two things that instantly had my alarm bells ringing. One, she was walking down the street, without a coat or shoes. No, wait not walking, she was staggering. What the hell?

  The second thing I noticed had the blood draining from my face and me jumping into action.

  My eyes went to her shirt, and it was covered in blood. I knew it was blood for some reason and nothing else. I frowned wondering whose blood she had on her. After that, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. I felt the truck start to move just when she stopped walking and fell.

  “Wait, stop the fucking truck!” I exclaimed and Clark, another team member, obeyed just before I jumped out of the truck. I ran as fast as I could, shaving my jacket as I went.

  “Lauren!” I called out, and when I got to her, I saw she was bleeding from a neck wound. I instinctively applied pressure to the wound to her neck, but I still felt blood oozing. Shit… I re-positioned my fingers and finally found the spot I was looking for.