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“Wait! Wait!” I catch her before she gets on the elevator.
“What is it?”
“Let’s exchange numbers this time. Let’s not make the same mistake.”
She shakes her head. “No. Don’t ever call me. Even if I delete a number he has a contact at the phone company and gets a list of all the numbers that I call or call me.”
“What?” I explode.
She touches my face. “It’s okay. It’s just something he does. Tell me your number. I will remember it and call you from the phone box just outside my apartment complex if anything happens or I can’t make it. Otherwise I’ll meet you here tomorrow.
I give her my number and make her repeat it numerous times.
I swallow the overpowering urge not to let her go back to him. It makes my hands clench. “Call me if anything changes. All right?” She nods before hurrying away.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Izzy
It might be possible. It just might. My heart is soaring with hope. I can’t remember the last time I thought anything good was possible for me anymore. It’s been so long. I felt like an old woman, like my life might as well be over at the age of twenty-four. Like nothing good would ever happen again. He makes me believe that there’s a chance, after all. If we could find each other again, who knows what else is possible?
I’m actually smiling as I walk through the door to my apartment. Not my choice of a place to live, but then I’ve not had many choices in the last couple of years. It’s either comply or face the painful consequences.
“Where’ve you been?”
I freeze instantly at the sound of his voice. Shit! He’s got to be the devil, he absolutely must be, or else I would’ve heard him breathing or felt his presence. Something. Instead, he’s tricked me into thinking I was secure. He’s always tricking me.
I turn around from the coat rack where I’ve been hanging up my coat, to find Tony staring at me from the sofa in the living room. His long face is still and his tattooed right hand clenches and unclenches a red rubber ball. That is his tension reliever. One would think my heart wouldn’t take off like a frightened rabbit every time I see him with his ball, but it does.
“I went out for a coffee.” If he knew what I’ve been doing he’ll kill me on the spot. I force a smile. If he believes nothing’s gone on, I’ll be all right. I’ve talked him down from these moods before. “And it was a pretty nice day, so I thought I’d take a walk.”
“You’ve been gone for over an hour—well over.”
“I didn’t think you would mind. I thought you wouldn’t be back until this evening. I thought you had that thing you had to go for tonight?”
“It’s cancelled.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? You know what is really oh?” He pauses so I can answer his stupid question.
“What?”
“I was here and you weren’t.” His voice is reasonable, but he is squeezing the ball faster and harder.
“I’m sorry, Tony. I didn’t think you might come back.” I clasp my hands in front of myself and struggle to keep from running out the door. Every instinct tells me to, but I can’t. He’ll catch me and punish me, and his punishments are terrible. Better to take my lumps now.
“You never think!” He throws the ball. It bounces once on the floor and hits me in the belly. My hands instinctively catch it.
“If you had called me I would come straight back,” I say quietly.
“Never mind. Funny thing happened today.” He looks into my eyes and waits again.
“What?”
“Fat John was at a café and he saw you.”
My heart turns to ice. “Yeah, I told you. I went to get a coffee.”
“Anything happen there I should know about?”
I start shaking. “No. Charlotte’s friend was there. He said hello. Then I left.”
“Charlotte’s friend?”
“He used to work with her. He was at her wedding,” I explain as calmly as I can.
“He?”
I’m suddenly so terrified I can’t even speak. I nod.
“So you sat like a fucking slut in a fucking public place and talked to a fucking man,” he asks, his voice deathly quiet.
“It was just minutes, Tony. I was just being polite.” My voice has become that horrible pleading whine that I hate.
He flies out of his chair suddenly, his face dark red with fury, and punches the wall. A part of me, the part of me that is not terrified to death, rejoices. Good. Get out your anger on the wall, you stupid pig. Punch it until you break your hand. We’ll see how you like it when I can fight back for once.
He strides towards me. I feel my knees go soft. He grabs me by the throat and slams me so hard against the wall I bang my head and see stars. I feel his fingers press on my throat. Instinctively, I take a deep gulp of air. Then, he tightens his hold and drawing air is no longer possible. I feel my eyes start to bulge and see the excitement in his as he looks at me choking to death. I beg him with my eyes. He does nothing. His eyes glitter.
Tears fill my eyes and my vision blurs. I try to struggle, but his grip is pure steel. Slowly my struggles become feeble. My lungs feel like they are on fire and I start to black out.
An image of Tyson flashes through my mind. There is no regret. I’m glad I saw him. I’m glad we did it again. I’m glad … I’m fading … I’m dying.
Reluctantly, he relaxes his grip on my throat and I take great gulps of air while he watches me with a mixture of regret and sexual arousal. He wanted to kill me. One of these days he will. God, I hate this man so much. As I’m heaving for air, he brings his face close to mine. So close I smell the nicotine on his breath. “This is my fucking town and you don’t disrespect me by acting like a bitch on heat out in public again,” he roars.
“I’m sorry,” I gasp. “It won’t happen again.”
“You’re damned right it won’t, you stupid slut. I’ll teach you not to make a monkey out of me ever again.”
And he starts on me, just like I knew he would. I drop to the ground and curl up, arms crossed over my tucked-in head, but he’s not having that. He hauls me up by my arms and holds me in place while he hits me over and over with his clenched fist. I try to hold back my screams, but I never manage for long. Eventually they come out and I scream and beg for him to stop, but of course, he doesn’t. Not until he’s good and re
ady.
When he’s finished I fall to my hands and knees before him. I can’t see for the hair hanging in my eyes. I weep as softly as I can for fear of angering him again.
“You better learn fast, cunt, or I’ll fucking kill that bastard child of yours,” he snarls, and aims a vicious kick to my stomach before walking away.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Izzy
The slam of the door is music to my ears. I can finally breathe again—though I have to be careful. My ribs feel as if they are cracked, but I’m used to broken ribs. It’s amazing what a person can get used to when they don’t have a choice.
I drag myself slowly across the floor. Crying with agony I reach the bathroom and I stand on shaky legs. Supporting myself on the sink I force myself to look in the mirror. The sight of my own face frightens me.
He usually lays off the face—wouldn’t want the average passerby to know he beats his woman senseless—but this time, he’s blackened my eye. At least, it will be black by the time it finishes bruising. It looks terrible already. Dark hand marks are already visible around my throat. He’s getting sloppy. My lower lip is a little swollen, too, from his first slap, and my scalp stings. He likes to pull my hair. Once he yanked so hard, he pulled a whole clump out and left me with a bald patch. He thought it was funny.
I wonder what made him react so badly this time. Something must have gone wrong for him. Probably to do with why he is not going away tomorrow. He must have come here to take it out on me. I suspect that is why he still keeps me locked away here in this apartment. I’m his punching bag. He hardly ever needs me for sex, and it’s clear he avails himself of many, many women. I smell them on him when he stumbles to my bed drunk and high as a kite.
