Page 130 of The Lies I Told
Though I’d sensed David’s lies about my drinking, it felt good to hear I hadn’t. “I must have stumbled out of the bar and made it to my car.”
“Again, you’re a survivor.”
“He followed. He was there at the accident.”
“Yes.”
“He took my phone.”
He handed me the next shot glass. “For once, he was thinking ahead.”
I raised the glass to my lips, glanced into the liquid depths, and then downed the shot. The booze did what it always did after the first or second drink. It made me believe all things were possible. I poured another shot. “There’s ice in the refrigerator. My head is hurting. Can you get me some ice?”
He studied me a beat. “Of course.”
He crossed the kitchen, grabbed a dish towel hanging over the sink. Draping the terry cloth over his palm, he opened the freezer and filled it with ice. He carefully twisted the end, forming a loose ball of ice.
“I’m sorry,” he said, handing me the ice pack. “I don’t like to hurt people. I’m really a gentle soul. But blood is thicker than water. You sided with your family after Clare died and sold out Jo-Jo. Christ, your father sued her parents.”
I pressed the ice to my jaw, flinched as the cold touched the bruised skin. “It was a shitty thing.”
“So, you get it?”
“I do.” I downed the shot and licked my lips. Even though the booze promised I could do anything, I knew it lied. Soon, my mind would fog. But for now, I was calm but still in control. I had to make the best of this very fleeting sweet spot if I was going to get out of here alive. “Can I have more?”
“Of course.”
As he turned to get the bottle, I twisted the towel tightly around the ice. He looked up at me just as I swung the ice ball and struck him hard against the side of his head. He staggered as I reached for the bottle of tequila.
“No, no, no!” he shouted.
He reached for me as I gripped the bottle’s neck and swung it with my full weight behind it. Tequila sloshed over us both as the hard glass hit him on the side of the head, breaking into pieces that cut into his skin.
He grimaced, slackened his grip, giving me time to break free and scramble out of the kitchen. As I neared the front door, his footsteps thundered behind me. I ripped one of my river pictures off the wall and swung it around, striking him hard on the side of the face. Glass shattered into shards, cutting deep into his skin. He fell back as I threw the framed picture at him, wrestled the chain and locks open before reaching for the doorknob. I gripped the cold metal and twisted.
As I ran for the stairwell, I pulled in a breath, trying to shove out a scream. I stumbled down the stairs, gripping the rail. Cool metal slid under my palm as I struggled to even out my breathing. Upstairs, Jack’s footsteps thundered out of my apartment.
Down to the fourth floor, I turned the corner and kept running. My legs were weak, and I felt sick to my stomach.
“Marisa,” Jack said. “Don’t do this!”
Third floor, I heard the front door to the apartment building open and close. Someone was there. I kept running, and when I hit thesecond-floor landing, I stumbled but caught myself after an exaggerated step.
Jack was getting closer. He was now only one floor behind me.
On the first floor, a couple stood by the elevator. They were holding hands, staring blissfully at each other as I burst around the corner smelling of tequila and fear. “Call 9-1-1, please!”
They stared at me shocked, confused. It was one of those moments when we all think we know how we’ll react, but in the end, we’re stunned into silence by the unexpected.
I ran toward the woman, staggering. “Call 9-1-1!”
Jack burst out of the stairwell door behind me. He saw the couple. Tried to smile as blood dripped from a jagged cut on his cheekbone. “It’s okay, she’s just upset. We had a fight.”
“He’s trying to kill me!” My belly ached from the blow, and my blouse was doused in tequila. I raced toward the couple, grabbing the woman’s sleeve.
The woman snatched her arm away.
“She gets this way when she’s drunk.” Jack’s voice was almost calm now, and I was shocked he had recovered so quickly. “She has mental problems. My wife called and asked me to check in on her. I caught her drinking and she lost it.”
