Page 1 of Breaking Sanity
Chapter 1
Alley
Thiscan’tbereallife!
This can’t be real life!!
I stare into the motel bathroom mirror, looking like an actress coming off the set of a horror film. My mascara is running down my cheeks, pairing perfectly with the slow trickle of blood still coming from the slash across my face. It goes from my forehead, down to across my nose, stopping at the curve of my jaw. My lipstick is smeared, bottom lip busted, and I have a lovely black eye. Hopefully, there isn’t any internal bleeding, considering the pure strength of the guy. I will say the man can kick and throw me as if I weighed nothing. Seriously, I know now what a boomerang feels like.
My body screamed in agony as the adrenaline faded after I finally knocked him out. Though I am not about to waltz into a hospital. Given how easily it was for him to attack me, I’d rather not risk it, but I should probably get it checked out.
I send a quick text to the only number I have memorized and to the only man that would be able to help me.
Discarding the phone on the bathroom counter, I furiously rip off my clothes, revealing the mass amount of bruises that litter my body. He may have thought that taking me was going to be easy, but I put up a fight. Never count out the little guy, though. I may be short, soft, and squishy, but I make up for that with will and perseverance. Plus, such complete paranoia that I have weapons stashed throughout my apartment in case of these situations.
I throw the shower on full blast and hop in, willing the scalding hot water to wash away the images drowning my brain. It doesn’t work. I keep seeing the damn melting skull bandanna he covered his face with after he tackled me, and the gleam in his eye when the knife first cut into my flesh. Maybe a shock is what I need to get them to go away. I flip the handle from hot to absolute freezing.Wrong move!
I cry out as all my muscles scream in pain. It takes all my strength to keep myself from collapsing.
You can do this!
Breathe! It’s just a shower, babe!
The voices in my head chant as I brace myself by placing my palms flat on the grimy tan tile of the shower. Right now, they are the only thing keeping me together. I let them ramble about the events as I get control of my breathing.
I keep the cold water on so that I can focus on the pins and needles feeling. It pushes me to keep going, but the tears blur my vision. I’m hurt, yes. And scared, but more than anything? I’m angry! I was stupidly blindsided because I should have never taken my eyes off him. You would think after everything I have been through, I would know better.
Guess not.
I exit the shower, trying to move as slow as possible. The pain radiates through me with each minor movement feeling like the vibrations of a gong being struck, but if I don’t keep moving, he can find me. I don’t think I am up for round two. I head into the bedroom using the wall to keep me up.
Fortunately, I had already packed a bag before the fight broke out. We were supposed to be going on a weekend getaway - our first date. This should’ve been a red flag, considering that we hadn’t met in person, but I have been known to be overly spontaneous. We were supposed to meet at the park andride near my place, instead, he showed up at my apartment instead. That should’ve been red flag number two, but he texted claiming the park and ride was overfilled. Like an idiot, I didn’t think to question him. I opened the door to those aquamarine eyes smiling at me.
Between being overly excited to get out and the twisting feeling in my gut that this was a bad idea, I didn’t get the best look at him before turning my back to grab my cell phone. I’m pretty sure he didn’t expect me to fight back. He definitely didn’t expect to get knocked out and carjacked. I would call it unlucky for him, but a stroke of luck for me that he had an obscene amount of money stashed in the glove box. I’m curious. What was his reaction when he woke up?
The phone rings, startling me so badly, I nearly scream. Leaving the dimly lit, typical motel bedroom, where you question what was actually clean; I start to regain my energy as I enter the bathroom. I slowly look at the screen, like it’s a wild animal that will attack, only to see his number coming across the screen.
“Titus,” I all but yell while answering the phone.
“Alley?”
“Yes! I need your help.” I’m trying to hold the sob trying to crawl up my throat. It’s been a while since I have heard from him.
After almost five years of not seeing Titus, his voice hasn’t changed. Still laced with concern, yet serious and stern. Almost like talking to a favorite teacher after he breaks you away from a fight.
“Where are you?”
“No, it’s too risky to say. I need you to video chat.”
The screen lights up with two handsome, grumpy faces. Of course he is with Declan.
“Alley, what’s going on,” Declan asks, pushing Titus to the side to get a better look.
“Best you don’t know, for now. How bad is this cut, Titus?”
Using the camera to zoom in on my face, I show him the entirety of the slash. When I pull it away, Declan looks concerned, and Titus’s face is contorted in anger.
“What the fuck happened,” he grits.
