Just Breathe Anthology, page 16
I needed to salvage myself before I could even begin to think about helping someone else.
Chapter Three
It took three hours and forty-five minutes for me to feel semi-human again.
My hair was clean, I could no longer burn a village down with one huff of my breath, and I kept the oatmeal I ate in the confines of my churning stomach.
My next tedious task was gathering my few belongings from the apartment, and whatever I thought, Heather would want.
There was no way I could come up with the money to save it and based on the text messages the super had left; he wasn’t going to be sympathetic of my plight.
I wanted to climb back on the couch and fall into another slumber. Sleep was such a tempting escape.
It didn’t solve anything in the end. No matter how long I slept, I still woke up tired. Even now I was fatigued down to my bones.
But I wouldn't worry about that right then. I had to get out of there.
With lethargic movements and a hollow ache in my chest, I grit my teeth and left the apartment carrying nothing but a single cardboard box and dragging a one wheeled suitcase.
The slamming of the door startled the two mangy cats at the end of my hall.
It was chillier than I remembered it being the last time I was outside. The overhead sky was dreary and rapidly darkening, in perfect alignment with my mood. I snuggled deeper into my oversized hoodie and headed for the parking lot.
I passed a man and a woman practically fucking between the buildings, more than likely high out of their minds.
I paid them and the ripe smell of pot coming from the left of me little attention.
When I finally reached the parking lot, I darted a quick glance towards the opposite end, where a few men were already leering at me.
They were lingering around a Monte Carlo that had its bass turned up so loud I wasn’t sure how they could understand any part of the rap they were nodding their heads to.
I gripped the box tighter and ignored them too, tucking my chin to my chest. I didn’t want any problems and could feel my anxiety beginning to flare.
When I got to my old (but trusty) Civic, I let out a sigh of relief and ducked inside.
I dropped the box in the passenger seat and tossed my suitcase into the back before quickly locking my doors.
Settled for at least a few minutes, I pulled my phone from the pocket of my hoodie and went to the messages.
There were three from the boss I no longer had terminating my employment and another stating I could pick my last check up on Monday.
There were a few from the apartment super I’d already ignored.
And one single text with an address that I didn’t recognize from, Heather. I dialed her number twice. Both times it went straight to voicemail, again. I’m not sure why I bothered.
Unsure of what to do with myself or where I could go, I sat my phone on my lap and lifted my purse from the cardboard box.
I had sixty-four dollars in my wallet and ton of change in the bottom of the bag. There was seventy bucks of available credit on my card giving me a whopping total of One-hundred-thirty-four dollars.
My gas tank was a little over half-full, but I couldn’t sit in the parking lot all night, so I needed to drive somewhere else.
How could my life spiral downward so drastically in the span of a few hours?
It didn’t; I answered my question.
I’d just been too stuck in my head to realize what was going on around me.
Losing my job wouldn’t have been the end of the world. I worked as a laundry attendant.
Losing the apartment, I’d have been able to deal with. I knew I could find an abundance of low-class dwellings for the same price, probably even minus the mice.
It was everything hitting at once that made me feel as if all the weight in the world was pressing down on the center of my chest.
My job admittedly lacked excitement and pay was meager, but it had been a job.
The apartment was run-down, my neighbors were all questionable, and on occasion, there was a mouse on the counter, but it had been home.
I shut my eyes and let my head drop against the headrest. I willed myself not to fall all the way apart. Not yet, anyway.
I picked my phone up and unlocked the screen being met with the last text from Heather again.
Chapter Four
She should have never been there.
I circled the neighborhood three times just to be sure it was the place my phones navigation system was trying to send me.
For the first fifteen minutes of the ride, it was debatable where the address would lead me.
The highway took me away from the slums and towards the modern. I spent the last ten minutes of the ride telling myself I wasn’t going where I thought I was.
“Pine Hills,” I mumbled to myself, idling beside a large green sign with gold lettering.
I can just see the house.
At least that was my plan as I turned onto the smoothest road I’d ever driven on.
My discomfort grew further as I drove.
Heather wasn’t even ranked high enough to be sent somewhere like this. She was still a rookie. I knew only that because she complained about it on multiple occasions.
None of that changed anything, though. The fact was, girls like us didn’t come into neighborhoods of this stature.
It was so far above us. Or maybe that was all just in regards to me. I’d never fit in somewhere like this.
Every house I passed was regal in its own right. The fifteen-year-old clunker I was in didn’t make the situation any better.
Curtains shifted and lifted as people began to investigate what the loud knocking noise was that had disrupted their peaceful environment.
Their judgmental stares made me feel as if a thousand wasps were hovering over my skin.
I squeezed the steering wheel with sweat clad palms, gripping it so hard the pigmentation in my knuckles went chalk white.
With a shake of my head that I’m sure made me look even more ridiculous, my dark locks fell from behind my shoulders and curtained my face.
I chewed the inside of my lower lip, intently studying the road in front of me. I took a few slow turns and then drove down a road that was much livelier than the all the rest.
There were a few luxury vehicles parked on either side of the street. Women in cocktail dresses and men in formal wear were on the sidewalk.
All seemed to be heading to the same place. Of course, that’s where I was going as well.
“Your destination is on the right,” the uppity voice of my maps’ said.
I looked over and had to blink twice.
It was the largest home I’d seen thus far, made up of dark gray bricks and even darker picturesque windows that were impossible to see through.
A wrought iron fence surrounded the immaculately maintained property, gates already wide open to permit an easy entrance.
The setting summer sun reflected off all the ridiculously shiny cars sitting in the U-shaped driveway.
This place screamed wealth and high-class with a tiny bit of shady which only drove my point home further.
I didn’t belong here.
Furthermore, this was a terrible idea.
I began to pull past and make the trek back home, abruptly hitting the breaks. I had to remind myself I no longer had a home.
I didn’t have a job either. And without, Heather, I had no one.
I had a cardboard box, a rusted Civic, and a mental disorder that continuously wreaked havoc on every aspect of my life. That I battled against every single day.
This all fucking sucked.
It also gave me every viable excuse possible to get out of the damn car and find out why I was there.
Chapter Five
I should have let myself go about my day wallowing in a self-depreciating grave of misery.
For once the devious voices in my head hadn’t been wrong. They would later relish in my downfall.
I ignored everything inside me that was screaming that I needed to run far, far away from this situation. I pulled back around the block, and this time, I parked directly behind a sporty black Mercedes.
My once green Civic drew more than a few curious stares, but no one stopped and pointed like I imagined they would.
I was over thinking.
These people didn’t care about me.
I sighed and rubbed a hand over my sweaty brow, wanting nothing more than to bury myself beneath my comforter and hideaway someplace quiet and dark.
You’re doing this for, Heather. I reminded myself. Through the haze inside my brain, I could ascertain something had happened to her.
Who better than a girl with nothing left to lose to find out what?
She’d do it for me in a heartbeat. Never mind the fact she was sound of mind and wouldn’t break into a million pieces if overwhelmed as I would.
I did my best to ignore the steady flow of people walking past me and stared at the front door of the house.
A man was standing by, slightly nodding his head to people as they went in. Another man stepped outside after a minute, this one massive.
Not massive in a jolly Santa sort of way, he was more like, The Rock.
People gave him as wide a berth as they possibly could and walked around him. He looked like he was searching for something, his head turning in both directions.
When his gaze landed on me and didn’t move, there was a tightening in my gut.
He continued to stare right at me as he spoke into a cell phone. A few words I couldn’t hear were exchanged with whoever was on the other line and then he was gone, disappearing with the slamming of the door.
I cut the engine and wiped my sweaty palms on my pants, belatedly realizing how much I was about to stand out.
All of these people were dressed to the nines. I was in hip-hugger sweats and my ex-lovers hoodie with a sports bra underneath.
But it was now or never. If I lost all the courage, I’d rapidly accumulated in the last five minutes I’d never go inside. Heather or no Heather.
After waiting for a group of four to pass me by, I exhaled a shaky breath and got out of the car. I didn’t take anything with me but my cell-phone and key, locking everything else away.
As I walked towards the house, I jammed my hands in my front pocket to hide their trembling.
I had to ask myself what I planned to do when I finally got inside. This was some sort of get together. I also had no idea who the house belonged to.
If Heather were here for a client, then they probably wouldn’t be pleased to see me given the strict confidentiality policy.
Oh, well. It wasn’t like I had a ton of options readily at my disposal.
A few low laughs came from behind me; I’m sure at my expense. I did my best to let it roll off my prickling skin. I knew I was going to stick out in this crowd.
The doorman had salt and pepper hair but didn’t look that old in the face. He was only a few steps away, and I wasn’t sure if he would let me in or not.
Just as I reached him the massive man, I’d seen minutes ago pulled the door open and stepped outside. He looked down at me with brown eyes as expressionless as his face.
“Ashlynn,” he greeted without question.
That gave me pause. I stopped walking and nearly collided with the blonde that was behind me.
I would’ve apologized if she didn’t scoff and then brush off her dress like I was some filthy hobo from the streets.
I shuffled out of the way so she and her friends could pass. I wasn’t given a second glance.
There were rich people, and there were assholes. She was firmly in the second slot.
Both men manning the door kept neutral expressions
“Is… Heather here?” I asked already knowing she had to be. Why else would he know who I was?
“Come with me, please,” he brushed me off like one did a piece of lint and stepped to the side so I could enter.
I wagered the consequences of this decision. If I went in anything could happen. There was a chance I’d never be seen again. If I didn’t go in, Heather could be inside, or she’d still be long gone which left me in the same position I was in now. So with one last burst of courage, I went in.
Chapter Six
I woke up feeling like I had a hangover. My limbs tingled, my head felt dizzy, and forehead was sweating.
No this wasn’t a hangover it was something worse. I blew out a series of shorts breaths to regain control of my thoughts and slow my racing heart.
The memory of the previous night replayed inside my sluggish head. That sonofabitch drugged me.
I rubbed at my face as if that would erase my idiocy. I watched too many movies for this to be happening. “Never drink anything from a stranger,” I berated myself.
Being fair the water was in a decanter that probably cost more than anything I currently owned. I also assumed no one had a reason to drug me.
Aside from the usual anxiety festering inside me, I wasn’t afraid. My fearlessness stemmed from the fact I didn’t truly care if I lived or died at the moment and it had nothing to do with being sad, numb, or empty, though I was.
Even in this strange place, in a stranger’s bed, I felt overwhelmingly alone, sad, and unexplainably desperate.
It was the fact that I was doing nothing more than merely existing until I took a final stroll from living to dead. Nothing about my life was exceptional.
Ironically enough I’d never thought clearly about this until that very moment.
Running my hands over myself, I found nothing on my person was disturbed but my phone, key, and shoes were gone.
Whoever placed me in this bed was nowhere to be seen.
Eyes darting around, the smell of minty cologne. I knew that smell like I knew the back of my hand.
The room was masculine, done up in deep grays and burgundy. A dark leather love seat was at the end of the iron cast bed. There was a pair of glass doors leading to an outside balcony where strips of sunlight made it past shuddered curtains.
Light meant I’d been in this place all night long. The party was over, and all was silent.
I slipped out of bed and adjusted my clothes. Having no idea who was in the house or where the person responsible for my current predicament was, I headed for the door, surprised when I found it wasn't locked.
My bare feet padded across the marble floor as I jogged out of the bedroom
Silence of such magnitude could only mean one thing.
"Hello?” I softly called out. There wasn't an answer, confirming my suspicions that I was alone.
Making my way down the stairs, I found myself in the center of an open concept floor plan. The smell of freshly brewed coffee brought my attention to the basket of fresh that was set out. That was odd to me.
Why had I been left alone?
I made my way to the front door and peered out. I gripped the knobs and pulled, but neither door budged. Pressing my face to the glass, I saw a digital code box flashing green to the right of the door.
“What the hell?” I muttered, eyeing the high-tech piece of equipment.
I pushed away from the door and made my way back through the house.
I found the back door, the windows, and even the patio door off the basement was sealed tight.
I hysterically thought of myself as a princess trapped in a castle as I dashed back upstairs. I returned to the bedroom and tried the balcony door. Warm air flooded in as it swung open.
My feeling of victory was instantly trumped. There was no way I could climb down or jump.
Back in the house, I searched high and low for a phone, a weapon, anything that could help me. There was nothing. The only cutlery in the drawers was plastic, and the phones had all been removed. Even the medicine cabinets were empty.
So he wanted to ensure that I couldn’t take my own life?
Or was he was saving that delightful task for himself?
Chapter Seven
I sat on the couch, ass slightly raised from the plush cushion beneath me.
It was blindingly apparent that Heather was not in this house. Knowing what I knew now I could almost guarantee she was no longer amongst the living.
Her death would have been quick and painless or drawn out for retribution against me.
I didn’t grieve for her. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I’d shed tears for someone. Or anything for that matter. But there was a hollowness inside me deeper than before and as I stared off into space I knew this was my fault.
A good hour or two past when I heard a car door slam.
Something beeped, and then there was the whooshing sound of the front door opening.
I stiffly turned my head and looked over my shoulder. My breathing slowed as nostalgic memories surfaced. My heart became a caged bird inside my chest, desperate to flee its captivity.
"You don’t look that surprised, Ash." His voice was cold, indifferent. But his forest green eyes were the same as I remembered.
“It wasn’t that hard to figure out, Dustin,” I evenly replied.
He made a sound in his throat and made his way to where I was sitting. He was a well-tailored suit with not a crease in sight and his shoes were so shiny I could see my reflection in them.
“Where’s, Heather?” I asked, squashing the urge to move away from him. He would find a challenge in that.
“I sent her away,” he sighed, taking a seat right beside me.
“She was my friend.” I sounded more like a petulant child than a grown woman but I couldn’t openly show how distressed I was, not in front of him.
His ‘sent away’ could mean she was in a hole somewhere or she was literally sent away to another city.
“She was never your friend, Ash. She just needed someone to help her keep a roof over her head. You don’t need to worry about that anymore, though.”
“You know that’s not true,” I retorted with more emotion than I intended.
“Ash,” he grinned, showing all of his annoyingly white, straight teeth. I found something else to focus on, hating how good he looked.
