Page 26 of Deeply Examined

I drag him down the stairs, not caring when he trips over his own feet and falls on the last two steps, scraping his knees. His door is easy to find. A13. It stands wide open like he was in such a rush that he forgot to close it. My nose wrinkles when I enter his living room and slam the door closed behind us. The source of the rotten smell is obvious. There are old half-eaten take-out containers and empty vodka bottles everywhere.

Looks like Brad went on quite the bender.

I toss him onto his couch, where he slumps to the side and stares at me with red-rimmed eyes. Bending, I crouch in front of him. I keep my hands loose and balanced on my knees, ready to grab if he makes a run for it. He’s got frat-boy good looks, but the kind that’re fading. Hair going thin at his temples. Stomach bulging from one too many keggers.

This close I notice his dilated pupils and the erratic way he breathes. I frown, leaning forward for a better look, but the signs are unmistakable. This man isn’t just drunk. He’s high and not from weed. He’s hopped up, cocaine or methamphetamine or maybe both.

Jesus.

He’s even more dangerous than I thought. The idea that this lunatic might have broken into Jessica’s apartment makes me furious. I have no illusions about what he would have done to her.

“Who’re you?” he slurs, eyes shifting from side to side like he can’t focus on one thing at a time. “Do ya know Jessica? That whore. Thinks she’s so great. Are you fucking that slut? She—”

Whatever he was about to say is lost to the crunch of his nose as I break it. My fist slams into his face quicker than a lightning strike. Blood gushes down his chin, staining his shirt and the dirty couch cushions.

I grin wickedly at the gruesome sight. I used to get into fights all the time, back when I was a kid and a teenager. I miss it sometimes.

The copper smell of blood. The grunts of pain. The tears.

“Gah!” he exclaims and raises his hands to ward me off, but there’s no stopping me now.

I punch him again, holding nothing back. “Do you like it?” I rain blows down on his upper body, thrilling with each thud and gasp. “Hurting women?” Another crack. This time a rib buckles under my fist. “Does it make you feel like more of a man? Messing with people smaller than you? Weaker?” His head rockets to the left when I hit him in the temple. I follow up with a punch from the right.

In a distant part of my memory, there’s the echo of mocking laughter. The flush of the toilet. Water flooding into my lungs. I’m dying. Drowning. Fury grips me. My vision tunnels down to the sight of my hands hitting his bloodied and battered face. Over and over. Another bone breaks, and it feels so fucking good. Like salvation. Vindication.

This goes on for so long that Brad passes out. I get a glass of cold water from the kitchen and pour it over him. He wakes up and gapes at me, blinking stupidly.

“Oh no,” I tell him with a grin. “I’m not done with you.” His head lolls forward. I grab him by the hair and hold him up so I can stare into his rolling eyes.

“I bring life into this world every day, and I can take it out just as easily.” I give his head a shake. “What do you know about potassium, Brad?”

“Huh?” he mumbles, incoherent.

“Potassium,” I repeat pleasantly. I’m calming down now. A plan is forming, rearranging its pieces as I think through each step. “It’s a very important nutrient,” I inform him, nodding wisely. “The heart in particular needs potassium to function properly. Too much or too little and it stops beating.”

“Glurb,” he mumbles.

I might have broken his jaw.

“Ihave access to potassium.” I jerk his head back, making his teeth rattle. “Someday I’ll inject you with a small dose. It won’t take much to kill you.” I sing out the last part, cheery at the thought of ending his miserable life. “I’d do it now, but the police would blame Jessica. Everyone heard you out there.”

I rub my chin, musing if there’s any way I can kill him now. I’ve never murdered anyone before, but I’m not opposed to it. Not when it comes to this piece of shit. Finally, I drop my hand with a sigh and tell him, “It’s okay, though. I’m a patient man. I’ll wait until you least expect it.”

Getting beaten has sobered him. Brad’s eyes go wide with understanding.

I lean closer and wince at his putrid breath.

Deadly serious, I say, “You’ll never see me coming.”

Jessica

I’m not sure how long I sit in the cold, hard bathtub and bawl, but I’ve just stopped crying when my phone rings next to me. I’ve put it down, and it stutters across the porcelain as it vibrates, chiming loudly.

“Let me in,” Dr. West says when I pick up.

Silence outside. I open the front door a crack and peek out. He stands on my doorstep with his hands in his pockets, like it’s a normal night and he’s here to pick me up for a date.

Except he’s not normal…and he doesn’t date.

---