Page 24 of Deeply Examined

I’ve almost got myself convinced by the end of the second week after he bolted out of my place. Almost have accepted that he’s irreversibly damaged, incapable of normal human affection. But every night, right before I fall asleep, a single memory flickers behind my closed eyelids. It was when I put my hand to his cheek, and he leaned into that touch. How he melted into my palm. I felt it, when all the tension left his body and that ever-present furrow in his brow smoothed out. It was so fleeting, but I know that for a split second I held his beating heart.

One question remains.

Was it the heart of a man or of a monster?

Chapter seven

Jessica

The pounding on my front door blends into the pounding of my feet on pavement in my dream. Dream me is running, chasing something or someone. I can’t make out what lies before me, but I stretch my hand toward it as I race forward.

“Jessica!” slurs a voice loudly, followed by knocking.

I lift my head and blink the bleariness out of my vision. “Wh—what?” My bedside clock says it’s only 10:00 p.m. I must have dozed off while reading my romance book.

“Let me in!” The double chain locks I have installed on my front door clink together.

I recognize the voice now.

It’s Brad.

Drunk and angry from the sound of it.

“Please, I just want to talk to you,” he cajoles.

I throw off my blankets with an annoyed sigh and pad toward the front door. I’ve reached the living room when something slams into the door, making it rattle.

“Let me in, you bitch!”

I freeze at the hatred in those words.

Behind me, back in the bedroom, my phone rings.

Shit!

I rush back to silence it, but it’s too late.

“I know you’re in there, you whore! I hear your phone.” The pounding on my door intensifies like he’s kicking it.

My heart hammers nervously in my chest. Alarm bells chime in my mind.

I can’t let him in. If I do, something terrible is going to happen. I just know it.

In my haste, I barely notice that I’ve picked up my phone and answered it.

“Hello?” A deep voice faintly emanates from the speaker. “Jessica?”

The screen reads Dr. West.

Double shit!

Of course, he would call me now of all times.

I hurry into the bathroom and shut the door, but it’s no use. I can still hear the commotion Brad is making. At this rate, I’ll have to call the police. What a mess that’ll be.

Flashing lights. Filing reports. All the neighbors gossiping behind my back.

“Hello? Are you there?” says my phone.

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