"I think that I need to give Alicia her bath. I'll probably just go to sleep after that." Her apparent disgust was beginning to fade, being replaced by something that only fueled my anger. Theresa was looking at me with pity.
I held on to my anger, trying not to blow up and ruin my arrangement. She scooped Alicia up off the floor and headed towards the bathroom. She turned back towards me with the baby balanced on her hip.
"Let's just forget that any of this happened, okay?" She gave me a sweet smile.
"Yeah, of course." I did my best to smile back at her.
I heard the bath running. I walked towards my bedroom with my hands balled into tight fists. As I passed the bathroom door, I thought that I could hear Theresa softly crying.
I went to my room and flopped down onto my bed. I laid there and thought to myself, how dare she pity me. If she only knew what I was capable of, she wouldn't dare pity me. I stared up at the ceiling, seething with anger and listening to Theresa finish the baby's bath. I heard her softly singing to Alicia as she put her down for bed. My anger was softening with every note she sang. She had a beautiful voice. It sounded almost angelic.
My eyelids felt heavy as she continued to sing the soft lullaby. I drifted off, just like Alicia surely was, laying in her crib. I chastised myself silently for allowing this woman to have that kind of power over me. Every negative thought that I had was shot down by the sweet sound of a loving mother singing her baby to sleep.
Chapter 19
The next morning, I found myself feeling very confused.
I woke to the smell of bacon frying and fresh coffee brewing. I walked out into the kitchen to find Theresa preparing my breakfast. She smiled warmly, apparently sticking to the resolve that we would completely forget that the night before had ever even happened. Before I had a chance to give any real thought to the situation, I realized that I felt happy and comfortable being here in this house. I felt…right.
After breakfast, I had begun to feel the familiar anger welling up inside of me again. I had no solid explanation for my feelings, other than the fact that I could not reconcile the happiness that I felt when I was with Theresa.
Shortly after lunch that day, I told her that I needed to go out for a while. I found that I could not continue to play 'happy family' with another man's wife. I was stung by the fact that my announcement had made her appear a bit sad. She said that it was fine, but I could tell that she had not wanted me to go.
In the end, I knew that I needed to get away. I needed to try and sort the situation in my head. I left the house without saying another word to Theresa, and hopped into my van without looking back. I set out to find the answers I needed.
The brunette girl that I found sitting alone in the park had not even looked up as I walked by. There was not even a glimmer of fear or trepidation. She simply continued reading her book, even though the light was dwindling. The park was empty as the sun faded, casting a silver-gray glow over the grass and trees.
Her shoulder length hair shined in the coming moonlight, and her skin was the color of fresh cream. She looked angelic.
Then I noticed the tattoo on her neck and the ring in her nose. From farther away it had appeared that her dress was a demure style, but closer inspection had revealed a short skirt and low cut shirt under the long coat she wore. Slut.
I made a circle behind a group of trees and doubled back. She never once looked up from her book, until I wrapped my forearm around her neck.
Suddenly, her attention was fully focused on me instead of whatever vampire heartthrob that she had been fantasizing about fucking.
I tightened my grip on her throat and dragged her over the back of the bench as her kicking and writhing weakened from the lack of oxygen.
Behind the grove of trees, I flung the whore to the ground telling her not to make a sound. I flashed the knife long enough for her brain to register the situation.
Every whimper from her only served to feed my anger. I reached down under her short skirt and grabbed a handful of her skimpy underwear. She cried out as I ripped them from her body.
Realization of my intentions came to her in a flash. She began trying to scoot herself back away from me, digging the heels of her combat style boots into the moist dirt. She started to cry.
"Please don't hurt me."
"Oh, I am going to hurt you," I told her, letting her terror fuel my desire.
I had an erection that was harder than any I had been able to achieve in months. I wanted nothing more than to take all of the anger I was holding out on that bitch. I flashed the knife again.
After freeing myself from my jeans, I grabbed her leg and pulled it up to her chest, hard. I guided myself into her with no concern for her pain or discomfort. My hand clamped over her mouth to stifle her screams as I pounded into her over and over. I wanted to hurt her, to ram her so hard that she split in two.
I looked beyond her. I could hear her crying for her mother, but I did not want to look at her. I just wanted to hurt her. I continued punishing her body for all the wrongs of all of the other women that I had encountered. I finished with an animal-like growl, and looked down at my prey.
It was my turn to cry out when I looked down and saw the face of Theresa looking up at me, blood dripping from her broken lip. I jumped off her and quickly packed myself back into my pants.
Shaking my head, I saw that the crying girl curled into a ball holding her hands over her painful crotch was not Theresa. I got to my feet when she once again tried to escape. I took hold of her dyed black hair and pulled her to her knees. She cried out once again.
"Why are you doing this to me?"
I pulled the knife out and leaned in to whisper in her ear moments before I slit her throat right through the middle of her dragon tattoo.
"Because I can't have you."
She fell to the ground, choking on her own blood and bile. Within seconds, she was dead. I realized that the whole time I had been watching her die, I had also been crying.
I washed up using towels and water from the van. The bitch's blood drained off my hands and on to the dark muddy ground. I sat mesmerized trying to decipher the visions that were plaguing me.
Why was I seeing Theresa's face everywhere I went? Why was she always on my mind? What the hell were these feelings all about? Was I allowing myself to fall in love?
As much as I hated to admit it, I thought that that was in fact the answer. On the way home, I tried to understand what needed to be done. This had to stop. The tears threatened to come, but I fought them back.
I pulled into the driveway and ran into the house. I needed to see her face. I needed to work this out…to resolve the situation once and for all. These feelings had to be dealt with or I was sure that I would lose my mind.
I stopped cold when I entered the kitchen. Sitting there at the table was Theresa, holding hands with a man that looked to be at least twenty years her senior. She looked up at me, her brown eyes glistening and a trickle of blood dripping from her swollen lip. She used the crumpled tissue in her right hand to wipe the crimson droplets away. The man looked up to me, his eyes narrowing.
"You must be Tim."
Chapter 20
I sat at the table waiting for Dale to speak. I had no idea what I had been expecting, but this man sitting across from me was certainly not it.
Dale ran a rough skinned hand over his thinning dark hair. The sigh that came from his mouth let me know that he was less than thrilled at my presence.
His weathered face and thin frame made me wonder what in the hell had attracted Theresa to him. She was vibrant and pretty, he was old and worn. She was sweet and kind, his sneer made him seem sour and hateful.
"Get me a drink," he ordered Theresa.
She retrieved a soda from the fridge without hesitation and brought it to him. As she placed the cold can on the table, Dale reached out with reflexes quicker than I thought possible and grabbed hold of her wrist. I saw her wince in pain, and I wanted so badly to pun
ch that self-righteous fucker right in his pencil thin nose.
"What about your guest?" I didn't think it was possible, but he managed to look even more smug. A devious smile crossed his lips and exposed a missing tooth, giving him the look of a rotting jack-o-lantern.
I shook my head at Theresa, indicating that I did not want a drink. She averted her eyes, ashamed of her complacency in the obviously abusive relationship that she was trapped in. I turned my attention back to Dale.
"You know why I'm here, right?"
"I believe that I have a good idea." He released Theresa's arm and she returned to the living room to play with Alicia. He eyed her lasciviously.
"Do you know where he is?"
"I know where he might be."
"Listen, I need to know what you know. If you can't help me, I will be on my way." I was getting agitated with the game that he was obviously trying to play.
"I wouldn't get smart if I was you, boy. Your daddy took off when things got hot, simple as that. You do not come into my house and try to take shit over. This is my house. That is my wife and my daughter. You are nothing but an interloper who needs my help. You got it?" I saw flashes of real anger in his eyes as he sat back and took a long swig of his soda.
"I am sorry. It's just that I'm running out of time. I need to find him." I leaned in closer to Dale, lowering my voice to a whisper. "I've been reading your journal."
His eyes brightened and a large grin took over the entire bottom half of his face.
"You don't say? Have you been trying to follow in Daddy's footsteps?"
"I have been, but I need help."
A roaring laugh exploded from the older man. This information seemed to be the funniest thing that he had ever heard. He held his stomach as though his guts might bust out at any second.
"You need help, huh? Can't do the deed without your Daddy holding your hand?"
"I've done the deed," I said indignantly.
"Whoa! Big man, are you?"
"I just need to find my father."
"Well, what exactly makes you think that I would help you? You have been staying here in my house and probably sticking it to my wife. Now you got the stones to ask me to help you? Do I look like a fucking doormat to you?" He laughed again, this time with less humor.
"If you don't help me, I'll go to the police." I sat up a little more straight in my seat, and I noticed Theresa had begun to pay more attention to our conversation.
Dale rose from his seat and grabbed the small black handset from its charger. He returned to the table and sat the receiver in front of me.
"You want me to dial it for you?"
We sat there in a staring match for a few minutes before he decided to speak.
"It seems that we have a bit of a standoff here, boy."
"Yes, it does." I refused to look away.
"I like you, boy! I really do." Dale laughed as he reached over and patted me roughly on the shoulder.
"Good to know. Are you going to help me?"
"I will. Not tonight, though. Tonight, the little woman is going to make some dinner, we are going to get some sleep and in the morning, I'll tell you what you need to know."
"Sounds fair enough."
Theresa was already up, taking jars of this and shakers of that out and placing them on the counter. It looked like she was making fried chicken. My stomach growled in anticipation. She cooked the dinner and we sat down at the table like a warped version of a nuclear family, eating in silence. I could feel Dale glaring at me, and Theresa was nothing like the girl I had shared this table with for the last few months.
She stole glances my way, careful that Dale did not see. Her eyes were filled with shame and regret. It made my heart ache to see her so sad, which only caused more confusion on my part.
Dale finished his meal and used a napkin to wipe his grease-covered fingers after cleaning the oil from around his mouth. I wanted to get up and bury my fork in his eye socket. Every smack of his lips made my blood boil. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit up, leaning back and rubbing his stomach.
"Hey Babe, get this cleared up, ok?" He suddenly spoke sweetly to her, playing the role of the loving husband.
"Yes Dale," she said with what seemed like relief.
She began clearing the dishes off the table. When she pulled my plate from the table, her knee brushed against mine. I felt a momentary shock course through my body, and judging from her reaction, she felt it as well.
Dale watched from across the table without saying so much as a word.
"I think it's time we hit the sack. We got a busy day tomorrow, right Tim?"
"Yeah. A busy day." I couldn't take my eyes off of him as we rose from our seats.
He made a show of grabbing a handful of Theresa's backside as he led her to the bedroom that they shared. His greasy lips pressed against her neck as he gripped her tight to him. I knew that this was all for my benefit and had nothing to do with any desire he might have for her. I felt sick watching the spectacle, and he knew it.
I went to my room and flopped down onto the bed. The familiar anger welling up in me had to be controlled. I needed the asshole's help, whether I wanted it or not. I stared up at the ceiling for no more than fifteen minutes before the screams started.
I jumped up in a panic. My daze of rage was broken by the anguish in her voice. I ran out into the hallway and bolted to Theresa's bedroom door. She was calling out, begging Dale to stop whatever it was he was doing. I banged on the door, calling out her name, uselessly. Her screams intensified and I couldn't take it anymore. I braced my shoulder and rushed the door, causing it to shudder on its hinges. Dale yelled something that I couldn't understand as I rammed the door again. This time it splintered and broke free.
As I burst into the room, I saw her. She was leaning over the bed, her skirt pulled up to her waist and her eyes filled with a terror that I had never seen before. Dale was behind her, thrusting with his arm tight around her throat. I saw the blood that stained the front of her blouse flowing from the cuts on her chest.
"Tim, help me!" She cried out as tears flowed from her eyes and mingled with the red spots on her chest. Her eyes only left mine to check the position of the small knife that Dale held in his hand.
I stood there, dumbfounded. I wanted to stop him. I wanted to pull him off her and twist his head right off his neck. The only thing that stopped me was the feeling of excitement. A small part of me liked seeing her subjugated like that. I was even a little bit jealous of Dale at that moment.
I felt so confused. There he was, hurting the only women that I had ever given two shits about. On the other hand, I wanted to join in and use her. Humiliate and hurt her. I wanted to make her pay for causing me to feel for her.
I gathered my thoughts as best as I could, fighting against the growing erection in my boxer shorts.
"Let her go." I stood defiantly.
He looked up at me, a mixed expression of disgust and amusement on his face.
"What the fuck did you just say to me, boy?"
"I said, let her go."
"Oh, that is rich!"
He pulled away from her and pushed her down onto the bed while he pulled up his pants, but not without making one final incision across her chest. A fresh stream of blood began flowing down her skin, staining one of the last remaining clean spots on her nightdress. She wailed loudly as her face connected with the pile of blankets in the center of the bed. Theresa quickly scrambled up, pulling the blankets around her as though they were a shield that would protect her from the monster that was her husband.
Dale stepped forward, his thin muscular frame was actually quite menacing. I tried my best not to let him see that I was frightened.
"You come into my house and fuck my wife, and then try to tell me what I can and cannot do with my property? You have got some serious balls, boy."
"I never fucked your wife," was all I could manage to say without a tremble in my voice.
Dale guffawed and once a
gain held his stomach as though he might burst. The knife was still clutched in his hand.
"Oh shit! I get it now! You are sweet on this bitch. You got a cute little crush on my wife!" He continued belly laughing as though this was the funniest joke that he had ever heard.
Theresa sat perfectly still on the bed, huddled in the blankets. Her face bore no expression at all. It seemed that she was in shock.
Dale stopped laughing as quickly as he had started and rushed up to me, holding the knife only inches from my chest.
"You expect me to believe that this little cunt never put out for you?"
"Never."
"Well, holy fuck! It's a miracle! You mean to tell me you've been here more than a month, and this slut has not put out to you one time? I don't believe it!"
"It's the truth."
"Well hell, I must be in the wrong house then. I must be fucking the wrong wife!" His laughter only served to stir Theresa from her catatonia.
"Dale, no. Please. I swear, I never did anything," she moaned in the most pathetic voice that I had ever heard. I hate to admit it, but it pulled at my heart a little bit.
"Shut the fuck up!" He bellowed at her. "Did you tell him all about you? Did you tell him where I found you? I'll bet dollars to doughnuts that you told him no such thing."
I looked to Theresa, wondering what her secrets were. I wondered if she had lied to me, or if this was just a ruse to get me on his side. Was this the turn that I had been expecting all along?
She hung her head and in a quiet voice and said, "No."
"Well, let me just enlighten our hero, shall I?" Dale sat down on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees and settled in to tell me a story.
"I found this little bitch dancing naked in a strip bar downtown. She was flashing her pussy for any man that had a dollar to give her. Fucking gutter slut bitch was letting strangers touch her titties and rub their cocks all over her bare ass."
I was shocked to hear this story, being so contradictory to the image that Theresa had portrayed. I felt a flash of anger well up into my chest.
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