I closed my eyes and gently poked the growth with a pen, trying to drive it over the edge of the counter and into an open garbage bag without actually having to touch it myself. Thankfully, my steering skills were solid because the friendly neighborhood alien steak plopped right in. I grabbed the milk with the same disgusted hesitation and dropped it in with its meat buddy, hearing them thump together.
Now with the main distractions gone, I could see other places where Eric went berserk. Holes punched into the walls. A cartoon version of The Starry Night laid on the floor, ripped to pieces, its blues and blacks and yellows now coloring the kitchen tiles. A chair next to the dented wooden dining table was turned over, its leg ripped off.
Eric was a monster.
Fear started creeping in again as the realization hit me even harder than before.
I lost him.
I lost him the moment he lost his mother.
I braced myself against the counter and held back tears.
My eyesight started to cloud with the threat of crying as I put everything back in its place. It all felt so heavy to me. The chair, the shreds of paper, the towel rack on the floor, the his-and-her key holder thrown underneath the couch. Everything felt like it weighed more than a large, chipped boulder resting peacefully on my back, crushing me under its weight.
After hours of cleaning and backbreaking work, I was finally able to bring the apartment back to a semblance of what it once was. I looked at my watch and noticed the whole day passed me by. Eric wouldn’t get home for another few days so I threw myself down on the couch for a breather. My butt wasn’t met with a relatively plump couch cushion, instead more papers crinkled underneath me.
I lifted the cushion and was horrified by what I saw.
There, underneath the couch, tucked away like a dark, tormented monster, was a folder containing pictures of me in various states of dress and undress. They were all taken from far, distances that would have made it impossible for me to notice. Some of them had me seen through divisions in the closed window blinds. Others showed me walking into the supermarket and walking back out with a bagful of groceries.
Then I saw the ones of me and Ryan, sitting together at the mall, talking to Courtney, a dumb and oh-so-innocent smile plastered across my face.
Oh
shit
.
The folder flew to the ground as if it caught fire. I stood up, my body shaking. The blood felt drained from my system. I knew that if I looked into the mirror at this very moment, I would see a pale white ghost staring back at me.
I needed to get the
hell
out of here.
I ran out, slamming the door behind me. I pulled out my phone and called the first person who came to my head. The one person who could make me feel safe in the midst of this whole mess.
“Hello, Ryan?”
I hugged him tight, his strong arms circling around me, promising to form a protective barrier against the evil that threatened to ruin me. Thankfully Ryan was home and answered my call. He could immediately hear the distress in my voice and took no hesitation to invite me over. He gave me his address again and I went off on my way, checking my rear view mirror the whole drive there. His apartment complex was nothing out of this world, his ‘doctor money’ still not enough to pay off his mountain of medical school debt.
I walked up the steps and buzzed his apartment. It took him only a few minutes to run down and swing the door open, letting me into the building. Before I stepped over the threshold, he already had me in his arms. I felt like I could breathe again, but I still had to break the hug and look around first, expecting to see Eric snapping photos from a nearby bush.
“Come inside,” he said, guiding me up the stairwell, his hand resting on my lower back.
The outside of his apartment building may not have been too impressive, but the inside was perfectly decorated and immaculately clean. It gave off a modern vibe, with blacks and whites mixing together, bright blues highlighting the furniture through small pillows and one large, abstract painting hanging above the couch. It was also huge on the inside, his kitchen having its own marble island.
I was surprised to see Jason sitting on the couch, the sleeves of his shirt cut out to reveal a tattoo running down the side of his obliques.
“Sorry, I was just heading out,” Jason said, moving to put his sneakers on. I wanted to be with Ryan, but I felt bad being the reason Jason had to leave. Besides, the more muscular men surrounding me, the better.
In a protective sense of course.
“No don’t worry, you can stick around,” I said, a little out of breath as exhaustion was starting to creep up on me. Ryan nodded at him, giving him the classic “it’s ok, man”. Jason undid his dark blue running sneakers and laid back, an arm thrown lazily over the expensive couch.
“So you’re saying he was spying on you?” Ryan asked, pouring me a glass of water in a cup that was surprisingly curved, just as I took a seat next to Jason.
“Yep, pictures of me right under the couch,” I said, a chill crawling down my spine as I remembered the photos that were in there. And then I remembered the Eric I once loved and was even more scared. How could someone that I felt so safe with now be so disillusioned? I honestly had no idea of what Eric was capable of anymore, and that though terrified me to the very core.
“That’s some twisted shit,” Jason said, adding his input with his head shaking in disgust.
“Yep. The guy I was with for years has now turned into a lunatic stalker,” I said, the words almost getting stuck in my throat. I still wanted to save him, I really did. I just didn’t know how to anymore.
“You’ve gotta tell the police,” I heard Ryan say from his immaculate kitchen, his voice always commanding the attention of anyone involved in the conversation. I could hear him pour himself another glass, the water sounding almost peaceful amidst the chaos of the day. I started to wonder when I could actually feel peaceful again.
“Yeah, I can’t say much but I talked to him and… well he didn’t sound good.”
That’s right! Jason is Eric’s doctor, he had to know if there was a shot at saving Eric.
“Was he… sorry at least?” I asked, not knowing what answer to expect but bracing myself for the worst. Jason just stayed quiet, not wanting to breach his patient-doctor confidentiality, which was what I should have expected. I knew I couldn’t pry any further, but I wanted to. It took everything I had in me to not dig any deeper, I knew that Jason wouldn’t keep quiet if it were life-threatening anyway.
“It doesn’t matter if he’s sorry, he’s a fucking psycho.” Ryan took a seat next to me, handing over the glass of water and putting another protective hand over my shoulders. I leaned into his body and rested my head on his strong chest, feeling his lungs lift underneath me.
This felt right. The fear I felt with Eric didn’t.
“Well he’s not being discharged for another week so you’ve got some time to think about what you’re gonna do,” Jason said, his right leg bouncing up and down, causing his black gyms shorts to fall back lower and reveal another tattoo of navy blue koi fish, half wrapping around his thigh.
With Ryan sitting next to me, I felt like I could finally overcome my ex. I could move on from him, and even though his behaviors were scary, I knew he wouldn’t resort to anything that extreme. At least I presumed I knew. So instead, I looked at Ryan and found a new resolve, one that helped me realize that I was safe. Especially with Ryan sitting next to me, watching over me. It felt good and it felt right and I didn’t want to be anywhere else. There wasn’t much I could do about Eric for right now so I decided to change the subject.
I looked over at Jason, “did you get all the tattoos after or before medical school?” I asked, genuinely curious. The only doctor I had ever seen with a tattoo was my mom’s psychiatrist who rocked a small Hello Kitty behind her left ear. I only noticed because she accidentally picked up her hair, which she had never done before. It was a particularly hot summer’s day in Los Angeles, the kind that made your back sweaty just as you got out of the car, leaving those embarrassing dark stains that you desperately wish would dry up before walking into anywhere public. Yeah, it was that hot. So naturally, the bohemian psychiatrist, who didn’t like using air conditioning, left the window open and needed to pick up her brown locks before they caused her neck to catch fire. That was when I noticed the tattoo, it was also when the psychiatrist turned to ask me how I was feeling.
“Most of them I got after, didn’t wanna get fucked up when it came time for interviews.”
“Didn’t one of the interviewers see your shoulder one?” Ryan asked, taking a sip from his own cup. I felt his muscles moving and noticed the bulge of his bicep as he brought the drink up to his supple lips. This man was something else.
“Yep. She asked me what made me special, so I took off my shirt and showed her,” he said, confidence apparent in just the way he spoke. A mischievous smirk grew across his features as I could see him recalling the memory. I imagined it playing out in my head, a pointed business woman interview potential medical school candidates, sitting there with a file in front of her, lips pursed and nails tapping away at the desk. Here comes Jason, a tattooed Adonis for practical purposes, and gives this woman a strip tease. And he still got into medical school.
Either he had really good grades or gave really good strip teases.
“Oh? What was that?” I asked. I saw him smile and get up, pulling his shirt over his head and revealing a body that rivaled Ryan’s. He turned around to show me the tattoo on his shoulder. It was a bright red and orange phoenix bursting out of an open red and blue pill capsule. The flames that trailed behind the mythical bird seemed to start setting the pill on fire, its edges melting downwards.
“I got it when I was eighteen and got over some personal stuff,” he said, pulling his shirt back on. The way he said personal stuff lead me to believe that Jason was a deep man, the kind that has years and years worth of experiences beyond his own age. Something about him made me trust him, I knew he was a good guy. Like Ryan, sitting next to me, making me feel protected. Nothing could hurt us in this moment.
Or so I thought.
“Wow, that’s beautiful. What did the interviewer say?” I asked, drawing my attention back to Jason’s chiseled face.
“She said congrats but that the medical school wouldn’t be the right fit for me,” he scoffed, “better for me, I ended up in a top ranking program. Plus I got to go to school with this asshole,” he said, punching Ryan’s shoulder over my head. I could tell their friendship was as deep as the one I shared with Courtney.
“How long have you guys known each other?” I asked, genuinely curious about their histories. I wanted to know more about Ryan, explore the people in his past. I wanted to sit there and listen to the stories about how he used to rollerblade through the park on his way to some pick-up basketball games, and something maybe a little less 1990s inspired, how he used to cause trouble with his classmates and still stick up for the little kid being bullied in the corner. I wanted to hear all of those stories.
“For way too long,” Ryan quickly replied, smiling down at me. His smile still made the butterflies in my stomach swirl in a flurry, I looked back up at him, squeezing his hand.
“We might as well have drank out of the same bottle.”
“I was breastfed,” he said.
“Well then let’s forget about sharing that food source,” Jason declared. I thought that he missed a great opportunity for a “your mom” joke but I was also a little happy that he let it slide. Someone had to be mature in this room.
They both laughed, Ryan tightening his arm around me through the chuckles. I laughed with them, my whole body finally feeling good. It was like all the stress around me was being lifted and carried away, taken to a far away land where little stress balls live in small towns. Something like that. I melted even more into Ryan’s shape, feeling his breaths underneath me, his laughs resonate in his strong chest. He sounded so powerful yet so kind, such a rare mix.
Then there was a knock at the door. A hard, urgent one. Like someone was running from something and they needed shelter, whatever was after them being right around the corner.
Everything changed after that.
“That’s weird, I’m not expecting anyone,” Ryan said, confused as he got up to go open it, leaving me behind on the couch, holding myself up on the spot where Ryan was sitting.
“Yeah they didn’t buzz up either,” Jason noted, directing his attention at the Twitter feed displayed on his new iPhone.
Ryan cracked the door open and asked whoever was outside if he could help him.
“Yeah. Is Jason there?”
The voice froze every fiber in my being. My heart immediately stopped beating as fear coursed through me, running through my veins in a blinding fury, stopping me from making even the smallest of moves. My vision blurred as my consciousness threatened to give after the rush of blood that was sent straight to my head.
I’d recognize that voice anywhere.
It was Eric.
“Yeah, do you need something?” Ryan said, still talking through the cracked door.