“Bye!” I called to the house.
Aunt Cynthia leaned her head out the bedroom doorway. “Hey,” she said, rushing toward us, still buttoning a clean shirt. “I thought we needed to talk.”
“Oh, I’m okay now,” I told her. “We’ll drop by in a day or two. Thanks.”
She grunted at me, but I ignored her and didn’t look back as Damon and I made our escape.
***
We got a room at a decent motel, then changed clothes and went out to eat at a nice steakhouse, where we ordered our steaks rare.
“Just knock it unconscious and roll it onto a plate,” Damon told our overly-friendly waitress.
She laughed and touched his shoulder, and that was when our evening started falling apart. From that moment forward she only looked at Damon and spoke to him and made jokes with him when she came to our table.
I was jealous. I couldn’t help it. He was mine and mine alone. He was my husband!
I knew it was silly, rationally, it was silly, but my emotions took over and I felt slighted, unwanted, and invisible – on our wedding night. My groom should only have been looking at me. I began to imagine that Damon was flirting with her in return.
Then he left her a twenty-dollar tip on a fifty-dollar check.
By the time we left, I didn’t want to talk to him. I didn’t want him touching me. And I certainly didn’t want to sleep in the same bed with him.
I was certain he’d done it all on purpose, to hurt me.
When we reached the motel, I refused to get out of the car. Of course, Damon was also mad by that time.
“If you don’t get out of this car,” he told me, “I’m going to leave you here all night.”
I wasn’t talking.
He stared at me for a little while, breathing heavily, then he lunged at me and growled in my face. He got out of the car and slammed the door behind him. He went into the room and slammed that door, too.
I sat startled and alone in a car with no keys, glad he was gone, crushed that he had left me there, alone. I wanted to scream, or do something violent, but all I could do was sit there with my arms crossed and try not to cry.
He didn’t love me. If he had, he would at least have looked out the window to see if I was still sitting there, or to see if maybe I had set out walking on my own. Which I considered.
And reconsidered. I didn’t have a clue where we were or I might have done it. Damon saved me the trouble of making up my mind.
I was looking down at my beautiful wedding ring, thinking about putting it in my purse and telling him I’d thrown it out the window, when a shocking crashing sound startled me out of my seat.
A television, still attached to the stand, came sailing though a hailstorm of glass and bounced off the pavement right next to my door.
My reflexes were fast to this kind of disturbance and I put my hand on the door handle and waited to see what would happen next. This turn of event had shocked me to my senses. I couldn’t believe I’d caused this. I’d been treating him like a normal guy, but he wasn’t. He had problems, and I’d forgotten. I’d wounded him and now he was fighting back.
A chair followed the TV through the window, then my hard plastic suitcase.
I couldn’t stay in the car, I knew. He would break the window if he wanted in, locks wouldn’t matter. I watched the motel door and decided if it moved I would run, to wherever was the darkest.
People began coming out of their rooms to see what was happening. They were staring and whispering, and I saw a man run back inside to call someone.
They would arrest Damon for this.
There was a lag of a minute or two, which felt like an hour, then another chair came sailing through the window. The table would be next and it really would stir up a fuss. The small crowd backed off some, but they wouldn’t go away.
Why won’t you just go away? I wanted to scream at them. Why did people always have to stare?
A man came running out from the office. I knew it was ‘somebody’ because he wore a white shirt and tie. And his dark face was alight with expectation.
My only thought was that I had to stop this somehow. I jumped out of the car and ran to the door, beating on it and twisting the doorknob frantically.
“Get back!” someone scolded.
“Damon! Let me in!” I shrieked. “Hurry!”
The locked turned and the door swung open, almost spilling me face-first into the room.
He pulled me in by the arm then slammed the door and locked it.
His eyes were as wild as an animal’s in danger and he squeezed my arm till I dropped to my knees in pain. Abruptly, he lifted me to my feet and crushed my body against his, pulling my hair so I had to look up at him.
“You’re too rough,” I told him, barely able to force out a voice.
He didn’t respond and kept staring at me with eyes more intense than the sun. My eyelashes fluttered against their glare.
Outside, through the broken window, I could hear the people talking, telling the manager, or whoever, all they’d seen. The word ‘crazy’ was used more than once. ‘Be careful’ was also popular.
“We have to leave,” I told him. “Please. I’m sorry I was acting like that. It wasn’t your fault. I’m totally stressed. We’ve been drinking blood and we got married all of a sudden. I freaked. That’s all. I’m going crazy, too. You’re not the only one who gets to use that excuse.”
He loosened his grip on me and began stroking my hair, the harsh glare in his eyes slowly fading.
“I’d cut off my feet for you,” he said with a hoarse voice.
“I know.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and reveled in our pounding hearts and intense heat. The strength of his arms and the hot wind of his breath aroused me in a way I’d never known. My vision turned red and I could see the pulse in his neck throbbing, calling for me to drink.
I reached to touch the swollen vein and a knock sounded at the door. It was the man in the tie, I hoped, and not the cops.
“Go in the bathroom and I’ll take care of it,” I told him.
“No,” he said, moving to put his body in front of mine. “I’ll do it. I’m me again.”
I darted around and stood in front of him. “They won’t trust you. I know how to do this. I’ve done it a hundred times.”
He held my face and trailed his thumbs over my cheeks, then kissed my forehead. “I’ll do it,” he said. “I’ve been here before, too. It’s me they want. I’m the lunatic, baby.”
I was certain he had been here before. More than once. But I still wanted to help him.
Damon opened the door and I could see the manager walking away, probably heading back to the office to call in reinforcements.
“Hey, there,” Damon called. His voice was still hoarse, and a little too loud.
The man ducked and whirled around. He stood his ground, though, and waited to see what the crazy man might do next.
“Guess I made a mess, huh?” Damon said in a slightly humorous voice.
The man was instantly livid. He stepped forward, to speak to Damon at a reasonable, yet safe, distance. His voice emerged surprisingly calm, considering the size of his eyes. “There’s a substantial amount of damage here, sir.”
“Yeah,” Damon said. “I’m sorry. Just fix up the bill. I’ve got cash.”
Damon spoke so calmly, so reasonably, the man dropped his defenses a degree. “Are you done?” he asked, his wide, offended eyes driving home his point.
“Yeah, I’m done,” my husband said. “Just go fix up the bill. We’ll get out of here.”
“I’m really sorry,” I called through the narrow space in the doorway. “We’ll leave.”
“And pay for this,” the man reiterated, nodding his head, waiting for conformation.
“I said I’ve got cash,” Damon told him.
“Then you better come with me to the office.”
“I’ll go,” I said, darting through the open space. Damon didn’t say anything as I jogged up
to meet the… I squinted at his identification pin… night manager, Terence Morton.
Apparently, the man didn’t want to risk provoking Damon because he gave my husband a wary glance and decided I’d have to do for collateral.
“He won’t leave me,” I told him, “I’m his wife.” I showed him my ring, but he misunderstood.
“I’ll need cash,” he said. “Cash or major credit card only.”
I prayed that Damon really did have some cash - I wasn’t about to part with my beautiful ring.
As we walked I put on my cheerful yet reasonable face, the one I used with James Eddie and the EMT’s and the doctors, and tried to explain Damon’s condition, hoping to smooth things over so the police wouldn’t have to become involved. I used Mama’s medical history since I really didn’t know exactly what Damon’s diagnosis had been.
“And then he had an allergic reaction, and they changed his medication,” I rambled on. Terence began to relax, somewhat, and listened attentively to my story. “This happened before, when they got the doses wrong. He really can’t help it. It’s a chemical imbalance in the brain.”
“I see.”
“He’s really not dangerous at all. I’m so sorry we ruined your night.”
He held the door open for me and I stepped into the cool lobby. A family with small children was checking in and turned to stare when they sensed the mood we brought inside with us. The clerk behind the desk kept a close eye on me as I followed Terence into his office.
I felt like a criminal. And might soon be, I realized. If Terence called the cops, they might take me in just the same as Damon. We would have to depend on Cynthia to bail us out. And she didn’t have any money.
While he made out a list at his desk, I sat in a plastic chair and tried to think of how to lighten this situation. “We just got married today,” I told him.
He looked up at me, but only nodded and went back to work.
“So we’re both a little on edge,” I continued. “My family disapproves and his dad is real sick. Then we got into an argument, and with his medication messed up, he couldn’t handle the situation the right way. I swear I had no idea this would happen when we came here.”
“I understand,” he said with a terse voice. “Was there any damage to the inside?”
“No, just what he threw out the window.”
“I’ll send someone to look at that.”
He wasn’t calling the police, so I thought he did understand, as much as he wanted to.
Damon’s voice caught my ear. “Where are they?” I heard him demand.
I jumped up and went to the doorway. “In here.”
He cocked his head when he saw me and made a straight line for the office. He held something in his fist. My eyes focused on that hand, trying to see if it might be a knife, or a gun, but it was an unreasonably thick stack of legal tender.
He dropped the money onto Terence’s desk. “Count that and see if that’ll do it,” he said.
Terence counted the money, which I saw were all hundreds, but stopped halfway. He held a bill up to the light checking for authenticity. There had to be close to five thousand dollars there. When he looked up his eyes were steady but shining. “Sir, this is too much. I’m almost finished, if you’ll have a seat.”
“Keep it,” Damon said and ushered me from the office with his hand on my back.
“Where did you get all that money?” I asked him as soon as we were outside in the fresh, free air.
“That’s nothing,” he said.
Damon had put everything in the car, including my abused suitcase, and we drove away from hotel number two in Knoxville, Tennessee.
“What do we do now? Go back to Aunt Cynthia’s?”
He squirmed down in his seat and got comfortable. Then he smiled at me and rested his hand high up on my thigh.
“We’re going home.”
“Home home?”
“Home,” he said. “To our house with two front doors and a rock pond in the backyard, and nobody else around. Damon’s beautiful wife needs to go home. He’s been putting her through hell.”
“I’m ready,” I whispered.
Ten years of stress melted off my bones and I leaned on the console to be closer to him. I did want to go home, more than anything. Our vacation had been exhausting. I wanted to see my own view and sleep in my own bed, and relax.
“Just rest your head on my shoulder, sweet lover,” Damon said in a soothing, deep voice not exactly his own. “We’ll be home when you awaken.”
I wasn’t worried this time, about the strange voice speaking through him. The voices couldn’t hurt us. We knew how to muddle through.
I found a comfortable spot against the muscles of his shoulder and closed my eyes. “I can’t wait.”
The bobbing rhythm of the car felt so lovely I completely forgot that I had a mentally ill mother, abandoned at Aunt Cynthia’s.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The moment I woke up I knew something was wrong. First, it was daylight, and the ride home should have gotten us there by midnight. Second, when I looked out the car window I saw mountains all around us.
But more disturbing was that I was alone. Damon had left me asleep in the car, parked to the side of some rundown outskirts gas station.
He’d probably stopped to get breakfast and refill the gas tank.
If I’d been more awake I would have immediately guessed Damon’s train of thought, but I was still groggy and it took me a moment to conclude that he was taking us to Pine Hollow. To the town where it had all begun. To the cave where vampires lived.
We were somewhere in Kentucky. I should have known he wouldn’t be able to leave his obsession alone.
He wouldn’t have meant to lie, either, I told myself, because I was severely disappointed. His disorder must have taken control sometime on the road home, and he’d turned the car around.
He couldn’t stop himself. Another symptom of his disorder. Just like Mama couldn’t keep from picking up the phone when she walked past to see if anyone was on the other end, spying on her.
I took the keys, which were still in the ignition, and went in search of my poor haunted husband, and a bathroom.
Damon was leaned over the counter inside, pouring over a map with the scraggly man running the place. When Damon glanced at me his head whipped around for a second look and he came to give me an affectionate hug – overly affectionate for the location. His hands roamed to stroke my most intimate places before he settled down to wrap his arms around me.
I hugged him back and closed my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see the odd look the clerk was giving us.
“She woke up scared,” Damon said in my ear, his voice thick with compassion. “I wanted to be there.”
“I knew where you were,” I said.
He gave me a kiss on the forehead then stepped back to hold me by the shoulders. “Get anything you want. We’re almost done.”
“Okay.” I flashed the clerk a quick smile and went in search of the bathrooms. I’d been in dozens of little stores like this one and sometimes the restrooms were through the storeroom in the back. I maneuvered past cases of soft drinks and motor oil and found the little, less than sanitary, bathroom.
A man had been in there last, the toilet seat was up, so I hurried, trying to breathe as little as possible, and got back out.
Damon was waiting, seeming anxious to leave. He took the half-pint of milk I’d selected and gave the man twenty dollars for it. We left without waiting for change.
I couldn’t believe the way he threw his money around. I was so used to counting pennies his behavior truly seemed psychotic to me. My husband was a spendthrift. I could have lived with a lot, but I wasn’t sure I could live with that.
“Did you find the town?” I asked when we were on the road again, and I realized Damon wasn’t planning to offer any information.
“We’re close,” was all he’d say.
“I thought you’d been here before.”
“It was a long time ago,” he said. Then he let out a growl and punched the steering wheel. He glanced at me with a pained expression. “That’s not true. That’s a lie. I’ve never been here. I thought about it so much I began to think it was real.”
“Okay. It doesn’t matter.”
I drank my milk and tried to get over the disappointment of not waking up at home. Adjusting wasn’t too difficult. It only took me a few minutes.
I could remember Mama being like this when I was little. She would come after me without any warning, load me into the car and off we’d go. Sometimes we took luggage, sometimes we didn’t. Sometimes we went somewhere specific, most times we just drove around. But always, there was a special place she desperately needed to be, if only she could find it.
Damon drove leaning forward with his arms wrapped around the steering wheel, watching the landmarks carefully. I brushed his hair with my fingers, trying to feel close to him again since he wasn’t paying me the slightest attention.
“Quit your job,” he said.
My fingers froze in his hair. “No. Why?”
“We don’t need the money and I need you here with me. We’ve got more important things to do.”
“How much money do you have?” I asked, more to change the subject than out of curiosity. Although I was curious.
“Lots and lots. More than enough.”
“But how much? I’m your wife now. I have the right to know.”
He glanced at me without expression. “That’s something you don’t have to worry about anymore. You’ve got way too much on your mind as is.”
“You’ve spent about ten thousand dollars in the last two days. You pass it out like sticks of gum. I am worried.”
“How much have you got?” he asked.
“On me? Two hundred. Why, is that all we have?”
“No, just wondering.”
“Wondering,” I scoffed. “You’ve been through my purse, I’m sure. Where are we?”
“In the mountains.”
“I can see that.”
“Just minutes from Pine Hollow.”
He slammed on the brakes and turned sharply onto a narrow side road. We were in the wilderness, that’s where we were, and driving farther inside its web.
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