Blood Rose

by Jacquelynn Gagne

  I knew it would hurt to eat, so keeping that in mind I ordered the oatmeal. After a word from the waitress the cook had blatantly stuck his head out the kitchen door and openly stared at me. Awkward.

  In light of this, the oatmeal wasn’t too hot and had applesauce mixed into it. That hadn’t been on the menu so I knew he’d done it for my benefit to cool it down. Very thoughtful.

  Speaking of painful things, every person there from employee to customer was staring at me as if I was some grotesque monster they couldn’t turn away from. Some of it blended with pity. Some looked actually afraid. “Damien, they’re staring at me. I don’t like it.” I mumbled under my breath between bites.

  “They think I did this to you,” he grumbled while throwing down a twenty to cover the five-dollar tab. Of course he didn’t eat. He didn’t even bother ordering.

  Damien spoke in a light whisper across to me, “The owner just called the police. It’s time to go.” I started pulling myself to the edge of the booth to stand. Damien quickly jumped to my aid. Helping me to my feet, he all but carried me out.

  Their gazes followed us out. No one had even spoken more than a whisper the short fifteen minutes we were there. Three guys followed us out to the Jeep. One ventured much closer than the others unashamedly writing down the plate numbers. Damien jumped into the driver seat and without bothering with the drive way jumped the curb on his way out.

  “I’m sorry. This is all my fault. I should have made you take me home instead.” He drove through one ditch and a yard with his short cuts. Before long, we were on back roads I hadn’t ever seen.

  “Don’t worry about it.” He pulled off the road and was out of the car before I realized he had even come to a complete stop. In another second, he opened the back and grabbed a small tool box. Not a minute later, he threw it back in the Jeep and we were off again.

  “I keep extra plates in the back. Sort of a requirement when people can’t know who you are. They may still recognize the Jeep though so we’ll have to hurry. Put your seat belt on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Burlington.”

  * * * * *

  No cops ever found us fortunately. I didn’t really want to find out what Damien resorted to in such a situation. I never asked what he did with the spare plate either. Some things are best left unquestioned. I was shocked how far away his house was from Burlington.

  Stupidly I glanced at his speedometer once and it was bouncing off the one thirty marker. My stomach gurgled unstably.

  Of course, what do you think he said to that? “Anna, I have been driving since they invented cars. I have never wrecked and I don’t plan on wrecking now. There’s no reason to be frightened, I assure you.”

  “Uhu…” Granted he did look calm, just irritated as all hell. That was the last we spoke before we got back to my apartment in all of thirty minutes when it should have taken much, much longer.

  * * * * *

  “I’m gonna take a shower. Might take me a little bit though.” My foot was rewrapped obviously but way too swollen to fit in my usual boots so I had been sort of hobble hopping my way around barefoot. Pain or no, I was going to take a shower.

  “Sit. Let me unwrap it for you.” I sat on the edge of the bed as he kneeled in front of me on the floor, raising my pant leg to remove the wrap carefully. His cool fingers trailed my flesh up to my thigh teasingly. A smirk was tugging at the corner of his lips though his gaze was upon the floor.

  Fighting the shiver brought on by the feel of his touch, (not the temperature) my fingers clinched the comforter in my fists. “Still broken?” I asked sarcastically.

  “Nope. You should go for a run and try out the new foot.” He chuckled slightly kissing my knee when he was done.

  Before I stood up Damien’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Wait. You have company.” He tugged my pant leg back in place.

  “Is it Nees?” It took me by surprise how hopeful I sounded when I asked. Unfortunately, Damien shook his head and moved to the window.

  “It’s a younger man in an older model silver Chevy car. Stout. Military haircut. Dresses like a Gap ad.” His brow creased as he stared at the car as if he could make it disappear. Who knows maybe he could though.

  With the basic description, I already knew who it was. “Paul.”

  “Ahh, the ex. That explains it. All due respect, do you mind if I disappear for his visit? I don’t think we would get along very well.” He turned back to me with an expression that said he already knew he didn’t like Paul, so I nodded.

  “That may be a good idea. He can be a jerk sometimes.” Without another word, Damien flew by me landing a kiss to my neck over his bite mark before disappearing out the door. I assumed to avoid Paul he would take the back stairwell away from the parking lot.

  A few moments later, my door flew open and slammed into my wall.

  “Jeeze Paul, I could’ve been naked! You can’t just walk in!” I hadn’t stood up yet and didn’t really want to let on my ankle was broken on top of my face being bashed up.

  Paul ignored me. “Where the fuck have you been?!” The door slammed loudly behind him. “You’ve avoided me for two weeks now and yesterday I show up here, you’re not home. You’re not at work. I called everyone I could find! No one’s seen you for a week. You don’t answer your phone.”

  Had it been a week? Surely only two days. Thursday I’d gone to Wildflower. That night I was attacked. Slept through Friday. Today was Saturday. Pfft. Drama Queen. “It’s been two days, Paul.” Oh crap, where was my phone anyway? My entire body tensed tighter with each step that brought him closer to me. I don’t like it when people yell.

  He ignored me. It was as if he couldn’t hear me. “So I call Richard had him track your number and you know where we find it? On the street by docks next to a curb covered in blood!” Ah, the docks, right. Oops. He stopped his ranting right in front of me. “Holy shit, what

  the hell happened to you?”

  “I tripped off the side walk and fell on the curb. Can I have my phone back?” I held out my hand expectantly but he just stood there staring at me like the people from the diner.

  “Hello? Do you have my phone?” My fingers waved impatiently for him to hand it over. Already I was ready for him to be gone so Damien would come back to me.

  “Uhh... yeah.” He reached into his pocket and handed me the cell. Without moving, I reached over and placed it on the charger pad. Paul stepped close enough his legs brushed mine as he dropped to the floor. His hands came up to cradle my face. He wasn’t as gentle as Damien. It hurt.

  The unwanted closeness repelled my memory to being back at the docks. The unknown monster so close I could feel his breath. Just like I could feel Paul’s on me now. Only Paul’s reeked of alcohol. Before I could protest, he went into another raging fit. His fingers clamped tight to my jaw.

  “How could you let this happen? If you would just come to your damned senses, we would be together and you wouldn’t be off alone getting hurt all the time! I love you, Anna. You know that I do. I have always loved you! Just once. Give me just once. I know I can show you.”

  His hands on my cheeks hurt enough I barely registered the words or the meaning. “Paul, please. You’re hurting me!”

  Immediately I tried to push his arms away from me but it was useless. “You don’t know what pain is! You don’t know what it does to me to see you and never be with you. I just want to be with you. Let me show you. Just once let me show you.” He leaned into me forcing me back on the bed. His body pressed into mine firmly as his mouth smashed into mine.

  It couldn’t be called a kiss. It hurt so bad that it made me want to cry. His hands spread over each side of my face clutching me against him so I couldn’t pull back. My hands fought to push him off me but it only seemed to encourage him.

  Paul groaned my name into the kiss but it sounded wrong, twisted somehow. He crawled forward, pushing me back down onto the bed. My fingers dug and clawed at his arms, shoving with everythi
ng I had to get him off me.

  Broken wrist be damned. The adrenalin took over.

  I could see it all in my head now. Me, struggling on the side of a steep muddy hill beneath a crazed man ready to rip me apart in every horrible way there was.

  Paul’s breathing was so ragged it came out as more of a guttural grunting. The smell and taste of alcohol invaded my senses.

  “Paul!” I managed to scream as he pulled his mouth off mine and sat up on top of me. To hold me still his hand braced around my throat as his other hand reached for his belt buckle. I could still manage to breathe but his grip was snug enough I couldn’t talk anymore. My blood flow suffered.

  My knee and ankle meant nothing to me. I kicked with everything I had. Twisting and jerking wildly. As he fumbled with his belt buckle, my right fist balled and slammed hard into his nose. He didn’t even flinch as blood poured out his nose and down his mouth dripping into mine. I’m a chick not a child. I know how to hit someone.

  “Little Anna, you’re still not strong enough,” his rough voice and taunting words struck something in my memory. At the time I never could have placed it. With his pants undone his legs slid between mine forcing them to part. Without pause, his hand found the hem of my jeans and jerked so forcefully the button popped off and the zipper tore.

  The veins in my head throbbed painfully as my blood flow was choked off. In moments, my eyesight began to phase through red and black tunnel vision. Futilely my fingers clawed and dug at his hand. Desperate to release his hold on my throat.

  It felt as if my head was about to pop. Black spots danced in front of my eyes. His hand on my neck grew tighter as he adjusted his weight onto the hand on my throat so his other could pull my jeans down my hips. My body was giving up quickly. Too fatigued and abused already to hold up the fight much longer. All I could do was stare up at the man I thought I knew as my fingers feebly clawed at his. His pitch black eyes were empty of emotion.

  Seconds before I knew I was going to black out my door exploded off the hinges and Paul flew off me. His body flew across the room and busted against the kitchen cabinets breaking two of them. He landed on the floor in an unmoving lump.

  I gasped so hard I choked on the air. As I lay there panting and paralyzed with shock, the full realization hit me. The night of the first attack replayed in my head. Paul’s eyes were coal black. His voice sounded strange.

  Damien had his back to me. Standing between me and Paul waiting for him to react. “Anna, are you hurt?” Damien’s question came out in a snarl.

  “‘S not Paul,” my voice cracked as I choked it out. Damien turned to look at me. Disbelief clearly marking his features. “That thing, the thing that attacked me. The docks!” I couldn’t fully put into words what I was intending but Damien got it loud and clear. “Look at his eyes!”

  A strange throttled snarl ripped out of Damien’s lips as Paul stirred on the floor. “Oh man...” Paul held his nose with both hands as he lay on the ground groaning. “What the hell happened? Anna?” Paul looked around in confusion.

  “Paul, you need to leave. Just go!” I lay on the bed in a heap. My body too tortured to move further.

  “Anna? Did we- did I just? Oh shit. Anna, what did I do?” Paul ran his hand through his hair, wiping blood through it as he did. Slowly he pulled himself to his feet. “Damn. Did you break my nose?” he grumbled as his feet stumbled drunkenly beneath him.

  “Get out! Just get the hell out!” I screamed at Paul. Stupidly I chucked a pillow at him, which didn’t come close but fell to the floor without any of the desired oomph I had been aiming for.

  Damien stood still as stone. His entire body structure was so tensed you could feel the rage radiating from him. I wasn’t stupid. Just because Damien didn’t want to kill me didn’t mean he never killed.

  Paul nodded. Drunk and confused but aware enough to know not only something horrible just happened, even if he didn’t know what but something much worse was going to happen if he didn’t leave very quickly. Strangely, he never seemed to notice Damien.

  Paul stumbled to the door one hand holding up his pants as he turned back to look at me. His eyes were still ebony pits. “I’m sorry.” With that, he left.

  Before I could even collapse, Damien was scooping me up and holding me to him. We didn’t talk for a little while. Nor could I bring myself to cling back to him. I did not shake, nor did I cry. Blood drizzled down my chin from a torn stitch. Damien didn’t show a single sign of unease.

  Once the chaos was over my adrenaline rush crashed and the pain was overwhelming. My breathing was strained and heavy trying to focus on anything else I could. After a while, Damien laid me down. My lip was still bleeding steadily.

  Damien spent a long time playing doctor. First my lip. Gently and tenderly as possible, he stripped my jeans off and threw them in the trash. He made a careful process of straightening my leg. He never said a word during any of this. He wrapped my ankle stiffly. Unwrapping my wrist was a trial for us both. If it was fractured before it was now completely broken. He handed me three Vicodin and a Red Bull with a straw he hunted down in my bare bones kitchen.

  Waiting for the Vicodin to kick in he paced an anxious road map around the loft. Funny I never imagined Vampires paced at all.

  Eventually he straightened my wrist. Splint it with a few chopsticks from a vast take out collection and wrapped it stiff and snug. For the next three hours, I lay on my bed watching him. He’d roamed from picture to picture. Stared out the window. Sat beside me running his hand through my hair. Pace. Roam. Examine something. Pace.

  Finally, after Damien had settled into standing by the window and watching the rest of the world partake in a normal day he spoke but it was more to himself than to me. “Maybe I should take you to the hospital. You should be safe there for a time. They can take care of you.”

  “I won’t go.” I mumbled from the mound on the bed that I had become.

  “Why is that?” He turned to look at me. His face looked as pained as I felt.

  “Tell me why the pacing and I will.” I groaned faintly as I pushed myself up to sit with my right arm supporting me.

  “I just keep wondering why I am not able to keep these things from happening to you.” Damien stood with his back to me while he spoke.

  “Your blood keyed me into you. Your pain was so strong it nearly laid me out. I could barely move for the first minute. I’m sorry for not getting here sooner I just wasn’t prepared for the shock of feeling it. I fed from you because I wanted to be closer to you. So don’t think I’m sorry for it.”

  He shook his head looking down to the floor. “So why is it you get nervous when I mention taking you to the hospital?”

  “He’s not just a Doctor. My father’s the chief of medicine. I don’t want him to know,” my voice quaked. All my demons were being laid out for him in short order. “My entire family has disowned me. Not only that but my father has also black listed me at every doctor’s office in Vermont. Trust me I’ve checked. He’s done this so that no one other than him treats me. Black sheep or not, it’s good to keep tabs I guess. We don’t acknowledge one another as family but as Doctor and patient.” I took a deep breath so I could go on.

  “Every time I’ve had to go for stitches or a cast or something at the ER he finds out. He thinks I do this to myself on purpose. So every time I go in, he forces the psycho drugs on me and puts me through every nutso test there is. He kept me there for a month solid once restricted to bed rest. Anytime they caught me out of bed, they doped me up until I couldn’t stand without help. All I had done was cut myself making dinner. That’s why I don’t cook anymore.”

  Laughing weakly, I turned my face away from him and quickly wiped my eyes. I couldn’t approach the topic of my brother. Did Damien know I had a brother? Oh, I had mentioned it once. Sort of.

  Damien looked at me expectantly. Sighed. Continued. “He’s older than me.” I looked now at the floor. Damien came to stand over me. I could feel him watching me as I
counted scuffmarks. “Marcus James Von. The divorce took place during the time they had me seeing all the doctors. My mother left one night while I was in the hospital. I have not seen her since, though we spoke over the phone a couple of times. Maybe three times.” Deep breath. Twelve scuffs so far.

  “They told Marcus I had night terrors, which was true. He was over protective of me in the few years we were in school together. He came up to help me move and set this place up. The baseball bat by the closet was his in high school. He was my best friend. My only friend when we were little.” Damien didn’t move or speak. I kept counting. Twenty-three.

  “One night I picked up dinner at Riads. Had him come over. Explained things in a bit more explicit detail. I thought he had a right to know. He hadn’t known I was emancipated. Didn’t even know I had been living with our grandmother for the three years before. He thought father had helped me get the place and he never questioned. He wasn’t living with us, he hardly cared what Father did. When I told him though... He realized what spurred the divorce. Me. We had a fight. I haven’t seen or heard from my brother, or mother since. My father I only see at the hospital. Heh, he addresses me as Miss. Von.”

  There was nothing he could say. Damien sat to the floor leaning his head back near mine. “So if you’re tuned into me, can you read my mind better?”

  “I can feel your emotions better but still only the clear and decisive thoughts same as before.” He shrugged helplessly.

  “So now what? I mean that wasn’t Paul but it was.” Shuddering at the possibility of what that meant I slowly lay down to the bed. My head lay near the edge next to Damien.

  “And you’re positive of that? I mean to say you’re sure it was not him that carried through those actions?” Damien stared at my busted door. He’d busted out the jam on his way in.