Chapter One

The wind was swift that day. The waves rolled over the black rocks from her view over the ledge of the brick bridge. She could feel the soft plants had curled and molded their furry fingers over the old brick where she leaned. The waves were angry that day as she starred at them. It was almost like her roaring heart crashing and clawing against the insides or her mind trying to escape from her past but that wasn’t possible. You could never, no matter how hard you tried escape from your past.

Now thousands of miles away from her turbulent past she stood her heart in painful turmoil and life contemplated before her eyes. Getting away at that time seemed like heaven.

In the end, heaven was hell. It has just changed latitudes.

“It’ll all be over soon.” She whispered and her words carried off in the quick wind as it whipped her red hair around. She was really a beautiful girl with a head of long, straight auburn hair and green pale eyes that didn’t compare to the pain she experienced. Her fingers were quick when she twirled the flower between her fingers and her nails reflected the sharp hot sun that day as it beamed down against her bare skin.

She knew she was beautiful with light brown freckles dotting her French, narrow nose but inside, she was ugly, torn, tattooed, and tainted. Love was tragic and hate. Hate was death and pain. In her childhood, “love” was all she ever received.

She let the wilted dandelion drop from her fingers and it danced down against the beach. Seconds later it was swallowed by the raging waters.

She lifted on leg up over the ledge of the bridge and sat there, two legs on both sides. She needed a cigarette but those things were so expensive these days that it seemed if you weren’t a millionaire you could have a case. Or maybe it was the fact that she was a fresh college drop-out about to get evicted from her crappy apartment and asking from her parents would mean communicating to them. Her father was a police officer and bound to track her down if she made one phone call. So she lived her life in fear and always glancing over her shoulder. Always second glancing the police and never trusting anyone.

She swung the second leg over the ledge and looked down. She could feel herself falling as the wind rushed into her nose and through her body. She closed her eyes just as the ground came close and the rocks glared up at her menacingly. She opened her eyes and saw the ground. She didn’t let the tears stop when they started. She tried not to imagine the news. No one would believe her rape accusations against her father and mother until her autopsy could prove otherwise. The truth would be found in death and right now, death seemed the only life she could look forward to.

A gust of wind felt like a human push and she slipped from the ledge. Her fingers barely caught on the edge and her scream was terrific and heart stopping. Her heart raced. She didn’t want to die, oh God she didn’t want to die. Not like this. Oh not like this. Everything was so clear and pictures of her life flashed before her. She felt to hands latch on to her arms what seemed like hours later and they struggled to pull her over the ledge. She shook viciously and panted crying like a pitiful baby.

“I don’t want to die.” She mumbled shaking her head, “I don’t want to die.” She said and she felt arms wrap around her body.

“Shhh… don’t cry. I’m going to call the police.” He said and she broke the hug and looked at him sharply.

“No.” she said wiping her eyes, “I’m fine.” She said and she stood up and stepped away from the bridge. She brushed her pants off and ran a hand through her hair. She tucked the loose strands behind her ears and looked at the man who rescued her. He was Latino and he was beautiful.

“Thank you.” She whispered nodding and he stood nodding at her. She looked at him and he cleared his throat.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what possibly could be so bad that you can’t live anymore?” he asked softly. His brown eyes were light in the sun and his skin was tanned. He was a half of inch shorter than her while she wore cheap heels.

“You wouldn’t understand?” she gulped and sighed. She turned and began walking away.

“Try me.” He said flatly and she stopped. Nodding, she turned around.

“I was raped by my fucking parents okay. Then, to top it off, my dad and mom’s been after me ever since I ran away. And I can’t go to the fucking police. They’ll identify me as a missing person and I’ll be fucking dead. My dad is a police officer and he never stopped wanting my body! Neither did my mom!” She said, “Top it!” She was shoving her finger in her chest and biting back a cascade of tears.

He stood there starring coolly at her and she was nearly offended as he nodded and slipped his hands in his back jean pockets.

“I can top it,” he challenged softly, “welcome to my life.” He whispered and she starred at him.

She starred at him in disbelief and he gave her a small, sad smile. He extended his hand and she walked back slowly and shook it softly.

“Howard Dorough.” He said. His eyes drew her in and the closeness around her made her drink his smell in. It was sweet and sharp to her sinuses but it was good.

“Evelyn Brooks.”

Chapter Two

“Do you have a ride home?”

“No.” she mumbled.

“Can I take you home?”

“To what home.” She stated flatly and he nodded.

“What happened?”

“I got fucking evicted.” She mumbled and he nodded. She looked up with shining eyes.

“Got a cigarette by the way?”

“How old are you?” he laughed as he pulled a pack out from his pocket.

“Twenty three.” She answered as he offered the open pack of ten. She plucked one from the pack and he flicked his lighter. A dancing flame rose from the small opening and soon, a thin dancing line of white smoke was rising from the cigarette.

“Want…to come home with me?” he asked and she looked at him.

“You can have your own bed if you insist.” He said with a small smile and she sucked the cigarette. The smoke exited from her nostrils and she nodded.

“Why the hell not. I’ve got nowhere else to stay.” She sighed, “I don’t care about another bed. If it’s a roof, I’ll take it.” She said and he rubbed his thumb against his lip in habit.

“Want to leave now?” he asked and they got in the car.

The drive was thirty minutes from where she had stood and it happened that getting to work was nearly an hour everyday. The sun was setting in a back drop of purple with a splash of pink and orange.

It turned out that he lived in an over-priced, decent apartment that he struggled to pay for every month but the surroundings were beautiful. There was a lavish white-stoned waterfall in the center of a circle of apartment buildings and there seemed to be a parking space for everyone who occupied a living quarter. She stepped out and the wind whipped her hair violently around. By then a soft rain had began to fall as he hurried to his apartment. He unlocked the door and held it open for her and she stepped inside. He flipped on the lights and the place was spacious and well planned out. There was a wooden table in the middle of the living room with a small black, plush couch that could fit one person lying down. There was a mini bar of various alcohols on a table next to a large mirror. She nodded as she walked into the kitchen. The cabinets were made from fine oak and the counter was a marble color. The floor was tiled with shining wood and the wall was a cream-colored white.

“Very…beautiful.” She said and she looked back at the mini bar longingly.

“You can have some alcohol, I have to run to the store.” She admired his immediate trust but that could be dangerous, even deadly.

“Thanks.” She said and he hurried back out the door. She searched the different cabinets for glasses and pulled a clear glass from a cabinet that was lightly chipped at the bottom.

She started with a couple straight drinks of Vodka then turned the television on. Wheel of Fortune was on briefly and after ten minutes it ended. She turned the channels then stopped. It was like an undercut into her gut, a stab in her back. A sick feeling of intense nausea washed over her mind and into her stomach. She didn’t know if it was a movie or a show. But what ever it was, a woman was being raped and everything flooded back. Two drinks turned into ten and she stumbled onto the open patio. The shatter of glass was so loud to her ears and blurred at the same time. She felt herself fall painfully to her knees and she felt herself being drenched by a heavy downpour of water. She wanted it to stop. The pounding of her heart, the splatter of rain against the wooden deck. Her arms were heavy and her eyes shut plunging her in a world of deep black and unconsciousness.

Chapter Three

“How many fingers do you see?” His voice was dementing and eight fingers danced in front of her face. His gray hair hung in her face and his intense green eyes starred at her the way they always did when he wanted to touch her. Suddenly she felt small again. She felt dirty and used. He found her and she mustered all the energy she could and slapped the hell out of him and let out a blood curling scream. She shoved his arms away as he tried to grasp her and she stumbled around till she felt herself thud to the floor. She was going to get away from him no matter if she had to kill him. He came at her swiftly and she kicked as hard as she could.

“Get away from me!” she screamed, “Not again! Never again!” she yelled and she stumbled to her feet. He was hurt and he was bleeding. She was winning. Before her eyes his hair turned brown and curls were scattered over his head. His eyes turned from green to cinnamon brown and his skin was tanned instead of pale.

“It’s me Evelyn, not your father!” he yelled and it became clear yet the past of the last hour as her eyes glanced at the clock was not. It was dark outside and she was soaking wet and cold. She starred at him and couldn’t help but burst into tears.

She heard him sigh and she laid down against the carpet and sobbed.

“Damn, damn, damn!” she screamed in frustration and she pulled her hair. She squeezed her short nails against the soft palm of her hands until there were crescent bubbles of brilliant red blood.

“It’s okay.” He said softly but she cried too loud to hear anything. She was in her own world and wanted the numbness of alcohol to carry her away like it always did. She felt arms pull her into a warmness that she trusted, that she wanted to stay in forever. She could feel the beating of his heart as she sat there entangled in his arms and the cloth of his shirt against her wet face. She closed her eyes and tried to get away from the throbbing head ache that was dancing around her head.

“It’s okay.” He whispered as she began to sob again softly. She felt so small and vulnerable again. She felt o weak but yet within his arms, so covered, so protected. They were warm against the cool wind that was coming inside. He hadn’t even closed the patio door. She felt his soft lips push themselves against her forehead as she sniffed and cried trying to forget her life and what it was. She was a failure. Her job was shit, loans needed to be paid back and life just cost too much money.

He rubbed her back and she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Once they closed, she had decided it had been a day. Sleep was a refuge she was willing to run too. She just hoped it didn’t play a movie of a past all too well known that she wanted to forget.