Blood Haze (11 page)

~X~

Arriving
back home, she once again dropped her purse on the table. Her cellphone rang
just as she turned. She considered ignoring it, thinking it was Drew. But what
if he’d taken a turn for the worse or something? The thought had her grabbing
her phone.

“Hello?”

“Ms.
Marks?”

“Yes,”
she answered as she gripped the phone tightly.

“Ms.
Marks, this is Loren Jordan from County General. I’m calling about the
arrangements for your brother. You’re the contact we have on file. Is that
right?”

“Yes,
it is,” she replied emotionlessly.

“Can
you tell me when we can expect the funeral home to pick up his body?”

She
closed her eyes as tiredness washed over her.

“I…
I’ll… I’m sorry, I’ll contact them tomorrow. Is that alright?”

“That
will be fine. We just can’t hold onto his body for much longer,” Ms. Jordan
said.

“I
understand. Tomorrow, I promise.”
“I look forward to talking to you then. Have a good night.”

“Thanks,”
Arabella answered woodenly as she slowly depressed the phone.

Punching
in Karmyl’s number, she was thankful when it went to voicemail. “Karmyl, I made
it home. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

 
Glad her duties were now done, she moved
sluggishly to her bathroom where she quickly disrobed before standing under the
hot, hot spray of the shower. But no matter how long she stood underneath the
heated water, she couldn’t get warm. Her mind kept trying to drift to things
which would hurt her, but she refused think about them just yet. Later… later,
she’d go over all she’d learned. But for now, she concentrated on the bracing
water as it pelted over her bowed head and shoulders.

Slowly
and meticulously, she scrubbed her skin near to the point of raw. She
desperately needed her outer shell to match the searing pain within. She didn’t
know how long she stood underneath the pounding water, but evidentially, she
realized it was no longer scalding hot, but freezing cold. With the gait of an
old woman, she sluggishly forced her body out of the shower. Shivering, she
rubbed the towel over her wet skin trying to instill some warmth. She slipped
on a pair of sweats, a T-shirt, and some socks before sliding into her bed.

Rolling
onto her side, she hugged her pillow close to her body. She wanted to cry… no,
she wanted to wail… but she had nothing left. She lay dried-eyed staring into
the darkness trying to figure out what she did from here. She’d lost both of
her mainstays in one fell-swoop. Her chest burned and felt hollow.

It
was almost laughable now to think that when she’d arrived at Ian’s apartment
earlier, walking inside was going to be the most painful thing of her day.
She’d not been prepared for the police and what they’d revealed to her about Ian
being responsible for both Maggie’s and his own deaths. She’d certainly not
been prepared to learn about Drew being in the backseat with another woman…
although, she’d known because of the glimpsing, she’d just not wanted to
acknowledge it.

She
understood about getting carried away in a moment, she’d done it herself. But
she’d managed to let it not get out of control. What upset her the most… what
she felt the most betrayed by, wasn’t that he was with the other woman, it
destroyed her that he’d used her past as an excuse, had led her to believe it
was because of
her
that he wanted to
break up. When really, he’d only wanted to be with the other woman. His words
cut her like a knife,
it was easy… so
very easy… to just, like, talk to her.

Guilt
cut at her like razors until she was forced to draw her knees up to squelch the
hurt. While Drew might have claimed to have been at fault, she really knew who
was to blame… she was. She should have cut Drew loose long ago, when she’d seen
her first glimpsing. But she’d done exactly the opposite, she’d had sex with
him, for the sole purpose of binding him tighter to her. She’d known what she
was doing… hadn’t had the excuse of being blinding drunk.

Bile
rose up and she swallowed hard to keep it down. Luckily, she’d not really eaten
anything in two days. She’d destroyed all their lives… just like her mother had
ruined her father’s. That her mother had foreseen Ian’s death, she had no
doubt. That’s why her mother had paid up his life insurance policy. Why hadn’t
her mother forewarned her?

But
she knew why, fate was a fickle bitch and no matter what you did to change it,
the end result always came out the same. Her knowing, wouldn’t have protected
Ian, it would have only driven her crazy trying to change his future.

She
brought a shaky fist to her mouth and the sobs which had remained silent, now
rose up from out of the depths of her soul. She cried for the loss of her
father… her mother… Ian… Drew… her belief that she had any control… and lastly,
her belief that she would actually be able to live a normal life.

She
didn’t know how long she lay there with her heart shredding when a sound had her
sitting straight up in her bed. She turned her head and listened carefully,
trying to understand what had caught her attention. A creak in the floorboards
further out in the house had fear lancing through her. Feeling defenseless and
afraid, she did something she’d never done willingly, she closed her eyes, allowing
the aura of the room to fill her mind. She didn’t see anything but darkness.
Frustration roared within her.

She snatched her eyes back opened and strained to see. Not
knowing what else to do she grabbed her cell from the side table, slid from the
bed onto her knees, and made her way to her closet. Noiselessly, she slid the
mirrored closet-doors open and crawled inside, sliding the door back almost
shut.

Trembling violently, she peered through the narrow gap in
the closet door, straining to see anything in the dim light filtering in through
the curtains from the streetlight. Her heart was pounding in the chest. As she
tried to rearrange her position in the closet, the hard case of the cellphone
cut into her hand.
Her
cellphone
. She’d forgotten she’d grabbed
it. Not really being able to see, she hit the redial on her phone and pressed
it to her ear. She tried frantically to remember who’d she had dialed last.
After three rings, she heard Karmyl answer.

In a feather-light whisper, she said, “Karmyl, it’s me.
There’s someone in my house. I think they’re in my bedroom. Please call the
police!”

“What!” she heard Karmyl squawk. It seemed her voice carried
out beyond the closet. Slowly, she clicked the phone off in fear the intruder
would hear it.

She sat perfectly still, listening intently. The longer she
sat in her closet in the dark, the more imbecilic she felt. Maybe she’d not
really heard anything. She began to inch the closet door open… slowly and
carefully… inch by agonizing inch… ensuring it slid smoothly and soundlessly.
The fear of what might lie out there in the near dark made the muscles in her
body feel heavy and stiff. She’d just stuck her head out of the door, when the
dresser’s mirror adjacent to the mirrored closet-doors reflected someone in the
doorway.

Panic nearly made her scream in fright, but she managed to swallow
it back. Slowly, she pulled herself back into her hiding place. Her position in
the closet was both her saving grace and her angst all at the same time. While
the intruder’s view of her position would have been blocked by the bed, so was
the intruder blocked from her sight for the same reason. No matter how hard she
tried to breathe quietly, it seemed all she could hear were her own breath and
her heart pounding in her ears.

“Here, Kitty-kitty,” she heard a male voice sing-song.

She cowered in fear, her body shaking in terror.

“Here, Kitty-kitty,” she heard again.

Oh,
God! What could she do
? It’d be only a few seconds before he
opened the closet door. Sliding into the very back of the closet behind the
clothes hanging above, she struggled to hear what was happening beyond the
closet, but the clothes muffled any sounds.
What
did she do? What did she do?
She repeated over and over in her head.

Terrifyingly, she watched as the closet door slowly inched
open. Her breathing became shallow and her chest rose and fell rapidly. She
shifted her head to try and see between the hangers, but all she saw was a form
with no distinguishable features. Her body trembled and quaked. She was going
to die. Maybe this was the way it was supposed to end. Fear made her want to
sob out, but she clamped her quivering lips together.

Trying to move without disturbing the hanging clothes, she
began to step sideways to the opposite end of the closet. She watched as the
intruder stuck his head into the closet.

“Oh,
Kitty, I can smell you. You smell divine. Where are you, my Luscious?” The
intruder began to move clothes aside in the closet as he groped trying to find
her.

She
longed to scream out in terror, but she bit down on her lip and continued to
slide down the wall to the end. She glanced down once more at the intruder as
he fumbled with the clothing. With every nerve-ending on edge, she waited until
she had the perfect moment. Then in one swift move, as hard as she could, she
grabbed the closet door and slid it toward the intruder. As he’d just dropped
his arms, and was instead straining his head around to look into the closet,
the doors caught the intruder squarely in the temple. He yelped both in
surprise and pain.

“Stupid
bitch,” he screamed as he stumbled to his knees, dazed

Breathing
rapidly, she darted out and ran as fast as she could.

As she
rounded the corner, her socks caused her to slip and she fell heavily onto her
knees. Pain jolted her body on impact and she gasped and whimpered in
frustration. She struggled to gain her footing but the she couldn’t seem to get
any traction. She sobbed and began to scamper forward on her hands and knees.
Strong hands grabbed at her from behind and this time she didn’t try to control
the scream. Terror greater than any she’d ever known caused her body to tense
to the point where she momentarily had no control over her muscles.

The
intruder grabbed her around her waist and effortlessly, it seemed, lifted her
up to press her back against his front in a vice-grip. Forcing her body to
move, she struggled against his hold, but he just laughed at her efforts.

“Ahh,
here you are, you naughty Kitten,” he whispered evilly against her ear.

“Let me
go, you bastard,” she screamed, as she tried to hit him with her elbows, her
head, and her feet. But his grip only tightened. “What do you want?” she
wailed, as she allowed her body to go limp at the wasted effort.

He
growled against her ear as he inhaled deeply. “What do I want?”

She
felt him press his lips against her neck and felt his tongue as he ran it along
the vein there.
Oh, my God! He was going
to rape her
. She tried to think of anything she’d ever read about rape
victims. Would he let her live if she just went along with it? She whimpered in
frustration, she just couldn’t remember!

“I.
Want. Your. Blood.”

Her eyes
blinked rapidly as her mind struggled to understand his words.
Her blood
? “Why? She whispered inanly.

“Because
it’s gonna taste sooo good. I can smell it from here,” he rasped against her
skin.

She
knew that voice, had heard it recently, but where? Was he some kind of crazy
person? He wanted to drink her blood? Was it some sort of witchcraft thing or
something? She struggled to breathe and not pass out. Terror had her muscles
paralyzed. “No! Let me go!” she railed against him.

Her
efforts only made him crush her even closer to his body. His strength astounded
her, his arms felt like bands of steel. She whimpered and begged, “Please,
don’t. Please let me go.”

“Shhh,
it won’t hurt but an instant, I promise. Then, you’ll be begging me to do again,”
he said, with a cruel laugh. Reaching a groping hand up, he grasped one breast
roughly. “Afterwards, we’ll see where we go from there. What’d say?”

Oh, God, oh, God
! He
was
going to rape her. She gave one more
try at squirming out of his bear-trap grip, but his hold never weakened, finally
she bowed her head in defeat. She once again felt his lips against her neck and
she tensed in preparation for whatever was to follow. Her mind scrambled trying
to figure out how he was going to get blood from her body. Would he cut her or
would he just bite into her like a rabid animal?

She
didn’t have long to wait. After running his tongue once more along the vein in
her neck, he placed his mouth firmly against her neck and sank his teeth into
her soft flesh.

Chapter 6

Lynx
Rogan was once again standing on his balcony, drinking from the same square,
squatted glass. The night held a hint of rain and he inhaled its fragrance. He
did so enjoy a good storm when all the world seemed to finally be in one accord,
acknowledging the power and control that was just beyond them. He tipped the
glass against his lips and allowed the bourbon to linger against his tongue.
But this time, the taste seemed flat… as had most things of late.