Familiar Ground

by Michelle Lynn

  Walking up to my apartment, an uneasy feeling swarms around me. The same one I used to get right before Shane would show up on my doorstep. Shaking it off as just the difference of today’s routine and the apprehension of Shane coming back in town, I walk up the steps to my apartment. Inserting my key, I realize my key doesn’t actually unlock the door, the metal bolt never had to slide over because it’s already unlocked. I jog my memory, but don’t remember seeing Adam’s car outside. Since I had given him a key last week, I’ll be furious if he’s early and just walked in. I gave him strict instructions that he’s to ring the doorbell like a normal date. Turning the knob, expecting to find Adam sprawled on the couch watching television, my steps halt when a large male figure comes toward me. Before I can flee out the door, he punches me across my cheekbone, and I fall instantly to the hardwood floor. Instinctively, I place my hand on my cheek, finding blood dripping from my fingers when I bring my hand forward to inspect the warm liquid I feel.

  “Where the fuck is he?” The deep demanding voice towers over me.

  I scamper on my hands and feet, trying to scoot away from him, like a crab across the floor.

  “Don’t fucking move. Answer my question.” He kicks me in the ribcage, making me fall to the ground again.

  It hurts so bad, I curl up in the fetal position, whimpering from the pain he just inflicted. When his phone rings, I finally have time to think about what to do.

  “Yeah, I’m here,” he says into his phone and turns around to the breakfast bar.

  When his back is towards me, I prop myself up, first raising my hands on the couch and then hoisting my body up. Looking around the room, I know I can’t outrun him. I just need to reach my purse that is currently across the room with its contents scattered around it.

  “No, he’s not here,” he answers someone else. Who is he looking for? Adam? Shane?

  The pain is so intense I can barely walk, but I have no choice. This man means business, and I’m pretty sure I’m scheduled to be his evidence that whosever is on the phone wants to send to whoever he is.

  “Yeah, she’s here.” They know who I am?

  Crawling across the floor on all fours, I try to be stealthy, like a cat, and quiet as a mouse. My fingers reach out to grab my purse when a chubby hand snatches it into his grip, and I collapse in defeat. Placing his cell phone on the counter, he empties out the remaining contents of my purse on the floor. My wallet, birth control pills, gum, and pieces of paper scatter around the floor, joining my keys and iPod.

  “Were you looking for this?” He lifts my cell phone, waving it in front me like a bone to a dog. “Honey, no one can help you now. You should really consider hanging out with better people.”

  Laying on my back, I stare up at the larger than life figure. Using the last bit of strength I have, I kick him between the legs, and he bends over immediately.

  “You, fucking whore,” he screams while his hands hold his junk, and he walks in a circle.

  Now is my time to escape. Rolling over and getting to all fours, I slowly rise to my feet and begin to walk toward the counter to my phone. Just as I have my fingertips on the casing, he pulls me back by my waist, locking me in his arms. I start flailing my legs and arms, but he’s just too strong to overcome. Then he throws me on the ground, and my body bounces off the hardwood.

  “I think it’s time you learned a lesson.” He straddles me, but I don’t stop wiggling around, trying to pry him off me. I quickly realize, I’m only making him angrier, and my conclusion is confirmed when he backhands me across my face.

  The blow has me seeing stars and tasting blood. He grabs my hair to hold my head in place and backhands me two more times. My head must look like a sock monkey the way it’s flinging from side to side by his hand’s force. Begging him to stop, I halt my body’s movement, and when I think I can take no more, he pulls me up by my hair. My knees are bruised and weak, so I wobble to my feet, barely able to stand up straight. He picks me up by my shirt and throws me across the room, right into my glass coffee table. All I hear is the shattering of glass around me as my vision blurs in and out from darkness.

  “Tell him it’s only a matter of time, he can’t hide forever. You should really watch out who you hang out with, bitch,” he says, spitting on me to finalize his assault. His big, stomping footsteps leave the apartment and descend down the steps before I can’t fight my eyelids any longer. They close, allowing the blackness to encompass them.

  This has been the best month of my life. The thought of having Leah all to myself tonight with no interruptions, practically has me hard already. Leah can guarantee we may hit a record in how many times we do it in a night. Obviously, I love my niece, but she’s a major cock blocker when it comes to Leah and me. Even after she goes to bed, and we think were alone, there’s always that small fear in the back of my brain that she’ll find me in her aunt’s room with my ass in the air. The last thing I want is to scar the little girl. I love it when it’s the three of us, but I want to take my time with Leah and cherish her the way she deserves.

  I stop on the way to Leah’s and pick up a bouquet of white daisies. She’s always buying Dani one to put in her hair when we’re out walking around. They’re such a simple flower, I don’t understand why she loves them so much. To be honest, I would have figured her for a red rose kind of girl before I really got to know her. Finally, by the third time we stopped to buy one, I asked her what her fascination with the flower was. She shrugged her shoulders and said she loves them because they’re so ‘delicate and resilient at the same time. They’re beautiful and strong’. All I could think in that moment was she was my daisy.

  I walk up to the door and ring the bell, just like Leah made me promise. This is a real date, and she deserves it to start and end the same way. Except it will have to resemble more like our fourth date, because she’s coming home with me. When she doesn’t answer, I check my phone for any messages on her running late. Her key burns a hole in my pocket, secretly telling me to use it. When I knock one more time, I jiggle the doorknob, and it opens. Shaking my head in frustration of how many times I’ve instructed Leah to keep the door locked, I walk in. Assuming she’s blow drying her hair, I step in and shut the door behind me. When I emerge from the entryway, my eyes find a mess across the floor. Turning the corner to the family room, the flowers dropped out of my hand, and the vase shatters making shards of glass shoot out across the hardwood.

  “Noooooo,” I scream. Leah is lying in a pile of shattered glass with blood sporadically smeared on random surfaces. I run over to her, noticing first that her eyes are closed. “Fuck, what happened?” I mumble to myself.

  Grabbing my phone, I dial 911. Frantically trying to be patient and tell them where to go and what’s wrong, but not being very successful. I grab her hand in mine and feel her pulse and check for her breathing. Why won’t she wake up? Jesus, what has happened to my angel? Seeing the blood covering her face, hands, and clothes, I want to clean her up and inspect what other injuries she’s endured, but I’ve been instructed not to move her. Looking around the trashed room, I assume it was a robbery the way her purse is emptied on the floor and drawers are pried open with the contents thrown everywhere.

  Feeling helpless, I start speaking into the air. “Please, let her be okay. She’s my life, my love.”

  Then I turn all my attention to her. “Leah, sweetheart, wake up, baby. It’s Adam. Wake up, honey.” I just keep talking to her praying to God she’ll open her eyes, but nothing happens.

  Painful minutes go by before I hear the sirens blaring down the street. Leaving Leah, I run out and wave my hands to flag them down. The truck comes to a screeching halt, and two men jump out of the vehicle. The one has a clipboard, and the other a bag as they follow me, jogging up the stairs.

  “She won’t wake up, help her, please,” I beg the paramedics. “She has a pulse, and she’s breathing, but she won’t open her eyes. Fuck.” I throw my hands over my head.

  A firm hand clasps
my shoulder. “Sir, I need to ask you a few questions.” When I turn, a police office is standing next to me while the two paramedics work on Leah. When did the police get here?

  “Sir, she’s in good hands. We need some answers to help her as well.” The slim framed officer places his hand on my arm to lead me into the kitchen area.

  Stepping over Leah’s belongings, I follow reluctantly.

  “What happened?” the officer asks.

  “I came here to meet my girlfriend. The door was unlocked, and I found her there.” I point to where my girl is lying on the ground covered in glass and blood.

  “Her name?”

  “Leah Thomas.” My eyes remain on her the whole time.

  “Your name?”

  “Adam McAllister”

  “Do you have any idea who would do this?” he asks.

  “No,” I answer.

  “Does anyone else live here?”

  “Her niece, but she’s not here right now.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Daycare.”

  “Someone will have to be arranged to pick her up, Sir.” The officer says.

  “My mother is already on her way.”

  “She will need to be with a relative; otherwise, we have to get social services involved.”

  “She’s her grandmother.”

  “I’m confused, your mother is the grandmother of your girlfriend’s niece?” He questions, and now that he says it, it’s kind of fucked up.

  “Yes, we are the uncle and aunt of the niece. She’s the daughter of her brother and my sister,” I confirm.

  “All right, complicated situation.” The officer still seems confused, but lets it go in the meantime.

  “Not really, but I need to go with them.” I point to the paramedics taking Leah away on a gurney. How did I miss them bringing that up to the apartment?

  “We’ll continue questioning at the hospital. This is now a crime scene, sir. I will meet up with you there,” he says.

  As I climb into the ambulance with Leah, two more cop cars show up, one undercover. Since my mom was already on her way to get Dani, we have no problems there. As the paramedic works on Leah, I call my mom, telling her I’ll keep her informed, but most likely Dani will be staying with her for a little while.

  “She’s unconscious, sir,” The blond paramedic tells me while inserting an IV in Leah’s arm.

  “And?” I say.

  “She’s lost a lot of blood. We’re almost at the hospital, they’re expecting us,” he says. “Just an FYI, you need to tell the hospital she is your fiancé; otherwise, they won’t release information to you.” He gives me a tight smile.

  “Thank you,” I graciously say. “Can I hold her hand?” I ask.

  “Yes, go ahead.” He motions his head towards Leah’s hand.

  It’s limp and cold in my warm, strong hand. I will my own strength to somehow flow into her. Wrapping my other hand on top, I try to warm up her chilled hand. Looking down at the still beautiful face, but so severely beaten it now bears black and blue bruises. Scraps and cuts with dried blood in lines down her face and arms. I wish I had some sort of lead on who would do this to her. Was it just random? Then I remember the three locks she told me Shane insisted on installing before he left. Was someone after him, but how would they know where Leah lived?

  “You seem to be thinking hard over there.” The paramedic observes, pulling me away from my own investigation thoughts.

  “I’m trying to think who the fuck would do this to her,” I answer with a more forceful voice than I intended. My blood is boiling the longer I look at her and not see those green eyes gazing back at me. I repeatedly promise to be there for Leah and to deal with the asshole later. I want revenge, and I want it right fucking now.

  “Concentrate on her. Let the police handle the rest,” he comments, and I wonder what he would be saying if his wife or girlfriend were laying here, beat to a bloody pulp.

  I don’t respond; I can’t without saying something I’ll regret at a later time. Sure the police will attempt to find them, but they won’t do what I’ll do. It isn’t their girl lying on this gurney fighting for her life. She’s the love of my life, I know it in my soul, and I’m not about to let the bastard get away with it.

  Five minutes later we arrive at the hospital. The nice paramedic tells the nurse I’m the fiancé, so I don’t have to lie. They smile at me, lead me to the waiting room, and then take my Leah away. I squeeze her hand once, and my eyes follow the gurney until it’s out of sight. Slouching in the waiting room chair, I impatiently wait for news. My knee bounces, and my fingers tap on my leg while I try to concentrate on the television. I’m tempted to call Channel 7 and tell them their headline news story should be that my girl just got the shit beat out of her. It’s a good thing my dad shows up about an hour later, because I’m about to lose my shit all together. Pacing back and forth, mumbling to myself, and probably scaring the girl and boy sitting nicely with their father across from me. My dad places his hand on my shoulder and guides me over to a chair. Half shoving me into it, I reluctantly sit and allow him to silently reassure me everything will be fine. When I can’t stop the vulgarities out of my mouth, he stands up to attempt to retrieve any information from the front desk, but all they say is the doctor will be out.

  Another excruciating hour later, a middle-aged doctor comes out of the double doors asking for family of Leah Thomas. Bolting to my feet, my father follows right behind me.

  “Are you Leah’s fiancé?” he asks, and my dad cocks an eyebrow at me, but remains quiet.

  “Yes, Adam McAllister,” I answer, shifting and nodding my head, wanting to get over the pleasantries.

  “Leah will be moved to the third floor in a half hour or so. You’ll be able to see her then,” he says.

  “So, she’s okay?” I ask, trying to clarify.

  “Yes, Mr. McAllister. She has three broken ribs, multiple lacerations, but as we can see there is no bleeding internally which is great news. She has a concussion and we need to keep an eye on her for a couple days.”

  “Is she awake?” I eagerly ask. Tell me those green eyes will be staring up at me when I’m finally able see her, I silently plead.

  “Yes, but we had to order her pain medicine for the ribs. She’ll most likely be in and out for most of the night.” He holds out his hand to shake mine.

  Taking his hand, I shake it. “Thank you, doctor.”

  “You’re welcome, Mr. McAllister. One of the nurses will come and get you in a half hour.”

  My eyes flutter open, squinting at the bright lights. I have no idea where I am. All I know is my body feels like it’s been shoved through a meat grinder. I shift my position, and shooting pain runs up my whole side. Every muscle in me screams at me to stop moving and breathing. Am I dreaming? One of those realistic ones, where you think it’s actually happening? I look side to side, trying to adjust my eyes. Am I in a hospital room?

  “Hi, dear.” My eyes slit open to spot a short plump woman standing over me. There’s a haze around her head and her face blurry. “You had an accident, but you’ll be okay.” She pats my hand and leaves the room.

  “LEAH!” A man’s voice breaks through my fogginess.

  “Excuse me, sir, can I help you?” The plump woman puts her hand up to stop him.

  “I am her fiancé,” the man says.

  Fiancé? When did I get engaged? I attempt to lift my hand—no ring? This has to be a dream, right?

  “Please, she needs her rest, sir. Let’s discuss this outside.” She pushes him out of the room.

  “Please, ma’am, let me see her,” the male voice begs her. “Leah, baby, tell her.”

  “Adam…?” My voice only a whisper. I slowly start to fade back to asleep. I plea with myself to stay awake. No, no, don’t go, but before I’m able to stop it the room is black again.

  “Mom!” I scream. She’s ahead of me, walking in the field of daisies behind my childhood home. She has a flowing white dress on that
swishes side to side when she walks. She looks beautiful, just like I remember her. She’s laughing and smiling with the girl next to her. I run through the field, trying to catch up to her, but the faster I go the farther they get ahead of me. She’s laughing with the girl next to her, like they are playing tag with me. “Mom, it’s me Leah, please, stop.”

  When I scream, she stops and turns around slowly. Her joyous and energetic look now filled with sorrow and remorse. The girl next to her turns around, and I notice it’s Cassi. She smiles at me, and then they both wave and run away from me again. I stand in the field of daisies, crying with my head hanging low. A hand lands on my shoulder, and when I turn around, it’s Cassi. My eyes dart forward to where they just were and then back to her. She smiles and nods. She resembles the pictures in her parents’ house, full of energy and life. It’s now seeing her up close that I notice the resemblance to Dani, almost the spitting image except for the hair.

  “Take care of her, mother her,” she whispers to me.

  Before I can respond, she vanishes.

  Then my mom comes back into view. She’s walking towards me through the field. So beautiful and put together, like always. Oh, Mom, I’ve missed her so much. More than I ever let myself feel.

  “Hi, darling,” she says.

  “Mom,” I sigh.

  “You don’t belong here, go back.” She points to where I came from.

  “I want to be with you,” I tell her, reaching for her, but she steps back away from me.

  “Not yet, darling, go live your life.”