Nearly Broken (10 page)

I smiled. I could
already tell this journey would be easier than the last.

Movement out the
corner of my eye locked my feet in place, the weight of my body stuck
on my left leg, my right heel caught mid-air. It was like one of
those horrible horror films where slow-motion kicked in, just in time
to torture you. A man strutted down the sidewalk, a long drag of
smoke smoothly rolling past his lips, scattered by the wind that
swept it away quickly.

Him.

BOOM-BOOM-BOOM!
My heart had skipped the steady rise it gave me on the way to the
diner and went from calm to hyperdrive in two seconds flat.

His dirty blond hair
was long enough on top to get caught up in the wind, and it
continually flowed like the waves on the ocean. His cheekbones were
sharp and angled, his square chin almost chiseled, with a dimple dead
center that most women probably swooned over.

But not me.

His rock hard muscles
were probably a turn-on as well, but I saw them for what they really
were – just another weapon to immobilize me against my will.

The way he walked with
one hand in his pocket, the other cycling back and forth to his mouth
to supply his urges with continual satisfaction, showed he was in no
hurry to move. Reeking of confidence, he knew he’d get what he
came here for. No matter what.

I inhaled a breath so
sharply my throat and chest felt cut. Then I cringed and stumbled
back, dropping to the floor, scurrying backwards until I rammed into
a metal stool. It screeched roughly against the tiled floor before
slamming into the counter wall.

Shit!
Surely he
heard that!

My lungs screamed for
air as my will to breathe came to a dead stop. He acknowledged the
sound, his head slightly shifting my way through the glass, the tilt
of his face aimed directly at my spot in the darkness. The way the
light cut down on his angled eyebrows shadowed his eyes.

Acute pain pierced
my chest, burning my senses with a combination of fire and ice.
My eyes fought their way open, but they were so desperate to
close, so tired… Something weighed down my lower half, or
rather someone. My head couldn’t move; everything so drugged
and numb. Something blurred into my line of sight – a mop of
hair, followed by dark, shadowed eyes. But it was the glint of metal
that caught my gaze before my lids shut down once more.

His head tilted back,
his path undeterred.

He’s screwing
with me. I know he heard that.
He’d turn and be on me any
second, yet my feet wouldn’t budge, frozen to the ground in
fear.
Please, Megan… Run!
My shoulders rocked first,
perhaps because they were close enough to get my brain’s urgent
message to move before it became convoluted and undecipherable like
the rest of my body seemed to think it was. My lungs reactivated but
their pace rivaled my frantic heart. Trembling, it took three
attempts to rise, my limbs so shaky they barely supported my weight
anymore.

He was gone from
sight, possibly just outside the window’s view.

One foot, two…
I shuffled backwards, my hands reaching out to guide me blindly, too
afraid to look away, knowing the moment I did, he’d reappear
before my bulging eyes.

I entered the kitchen,
my hands wanting to grasp at the door frame, to hold tightly until
someone from the diner came to look for me. But I knew I couldn’t
wait it out. Every second I paused was another I could’ve used
to flee, to get as far away from here as possible. Away from this
sadistic bastard, toward a path that would take me away from Nick,
too. But I couldn’t think about that right now. About how
easily he made me smile and made me forget about the bad things
continually plaguing my mind like a bad rerun. I couldn’t let
myself think about that kiss we shared just hours ago. God, was it
really just two hours ago? It now seemed like days. But I couldn’t
think of Nick right now.

The promise to call
the diner once I got reestablished somewhere was the only reason my
legs sprang into action, plucking my stubborn-ass feet from the
ground. Finally, my neurons fired between my brain and my limbs,
syncing my intention to flee as fast as possible, and I snatched my
bag from the cabinet and a knife from the drawer on my way out the
back.

I cracked the back door
open, minimizing the squeak that was determined to give me away,
slowly peeking more and more until my head poked through. The alley
seemed clear, but I didn’t like the number of shadows. There
were way too many places someone could hide. Why hadn’t I
noticed that before? Were there always this many, or had I just
foolishly allowed myself to feel safer with each passing day,
regardless of the nagging images my memory plagued me with? And a
small part of me blamed Nick for distracting me, for making me feel
so comfortable in his presence, for making me feel safe. Because I
wasn’t. Never had been.

I heard the front door
shift back and forth, like someone was trying to get in. I gripped
the knife so hard my knuckles whitened and my fingers tingled from
lack of blood circulation.

I gulped a large
breath of air and ran for it, not caring that my feet thumped and
skidded across the pavement. If he was headed towards the back, being
quiet wasn’t going to save my ass. Running was the only hope I
had now. I dipped and dodged as I zigzagged the streets and
alleyways, doing anything and everything to minimize his visual of
me. Sound was harder to follow and I wasn’t going to let it be
as easy as watching me run down the center of the street like a
stupid animal.

My heart beat
erratically, my head repeatedly swishing back and forth like the hand
of a grandfather clock, refusing to be blind in either direction,
fear ripping apart my insides over what I could’ve missed that
split second I turned away.

Now gasping to catch
my breath, the crisp air scratched the lining of my throat. I ignored
the raw pain and strained my lungs as I pushed my legs harder,
faster. Rounding that last corner, my apartment was at last in sight,
the porch light Nick had replaced a shining beacon guiding me home. I
bobbled the knife and keys in my hands, trying to feel for the right
key since I couldn’t see in the dark.

Refusing to stop, I
slammed into the front door. God finally on my side, the key slid in
on the first try and I threw myself inside, glancing one last time
over my shoulder before locking it behind me. My palms face down
against the wood, I leaned my weight against the door, my exhalations
so loud it was all I could hear. I fearfully peeked behind the closed
blinds, lifting ever so slightly.

Nothing behind me, but
that didn’t mean he wasn’t still there. And I wasn’t
foolish enough to think I was safe.

I rushed to my closet,
pulled my bag from the corner and lifted the carpet. Snatching the
wad of cash, I stuffed the bills into the side pocket, then grabbed
the empty bag beside it and flew to the kitchen. I tossed the knife
haphazardly onto the counter and emptied the entire cabinet of food
and zipped it up. Lastly, I ran to the bathroom to grab what I could,
cringing when I saw Nick’s black toiletry bag sitting on the
counter.

That’s when I
heard it – the quiet metal grinding of the knob as it tried to
twist open on the front door. My mouth agape, all I could do was
watch in disbelief. All that running, getting lost in a nowhere town,
keeping my head down and mouth shut, did nothing to save my ass.
Because now I was trapped. Like a fucking rat.

Something scraped and
dug into the lock, and I ran for the kitchen, grabbing the knife just
as the door popped open. With shaking hands, I held it out before me,
though I had little faith I’d have control of the knife for
long, but all I needed was one good stab to buy me a few precious
seconds.

The man paused at the
door before reaching out to drop his keys on the counter.

Nick.

I couldn’t
stop the crying. I wasn’t even sure how I’d managed to go
through everything I did the past ten minutes and not shed a single
tear. But now that I had come to a complete stop and saw Nick coming
towards me with a shocked and concerned look on his face, I just
couldn’t stop myself from breaking down.

“Megan. What the
hell?”

I wasn’t sure if
he actually expected me to answer that, but he pulled the knife from
my loose grip and I buried my face on his chest. My upper body jerked
uncontrollably, even under his firm hold.

“God, you’re
shaking! Darla said you went to the diner, but when you didn’t
come back I went to look for you. Why did you come home? I don’t
care how small this damn town is, it’s not safe to walk home.”

You have no fucking
idea.

I still didn’t
answer him, my insides so nauseated, my body so ready to keel over
and just quit. And I would have too, if not for Nick keeping me on my
feet. He sighed heavily, leaning his head atop mine. A moment later I
felt his head bob up and his arm extend to the counter, his hand
shuffling through the bag of food I’d left on the counter.

“Were you
leaving?” He sounded pissed, so it didn’t surprise me
when he pushed me off and held me a foot away so I’d be forced
to actually look at him. But my vision was so blurry all I saw was a
blob of smeared watercolors in dark tones. “Megan?” he
shouted, shaking my shoulders. “What the hell happened? Are you
leaving?”

My head nodded
slightly, fearfully, because I
still
planned on leaving.
Without him.

Reaching his hands to
clasp my cheeks, he brought our heads closer together. I blinked hard
a few times, expunging what remained of the silky liquid around my
eyes. His thumbs gently swept the tears away. “Megan,” he
said softly, trying a quieter approach since I had yet to answer any
of his snipes thus far. “You were headed to the diner. What
happened that has you so scared?”

My lower jaw trembled.
I really didn’t want to leave, but I had to. I had to go before
Nick got pulled down with me, before he got hurt in the process. And
though it pained me to do so, I whispered, “I can’t tell
you. I just have to go.” I tried to pull back but his hands
slipped to my shoulders and gripped me hard, locking me in place.

“Hell no I’m
letting you go! That’s not good enough. You’re not
stepping one foot out of this apartment when something’s got
you scared shitless.”

“You have to. I
have to go.” I pulled and groaned and tried to squirm free, but
he easily overpowered me, leaving me completely at his mercy,
especially once his hands slipped farther down to grasp my biceps.

“Megan, stop! If
you want to leave, fine. I’ll come with you.”

Those damn tears
started up again, the thought of him by my side too tempting. I
wanted him so much I ached. But I wanted his safety even more, so I
shook my head.

“Do you
seriously think you could do anything to stop me from following?”

“Stop!” I
cried, choking as I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. “Please,
stop. I won’t drag you into this.”

“Into what?”
he asked, smashing his torso against mine, backing me up until the
counter smashed into my lower back, pinning me. Once trapped beneath
his weight, he snatched my wrists, as my hands were trying to push
him off to no avail.

“Please, just
let me go,” I whimpered in defeat. When he still didn’t,
I shouted, “LET GO!” at the top of my lungs.

Eyes bulging, he
pulled back, letting me fall softly. I collapsed to the floor in a
ball, but he was still trying to touch me, to comfort me in some way.
Squatting next to me, my arms erratically fought off his attempts to
reconnect.

“I need to go!
Just get away from me!”

“I’m not
letting you go anywhere,” he replied vehemently.

I screamed. Why
wouldn’t he just fucking move? “He’s out there!
Okay? I won’t go back! I’ll die before I’ll let him
take me!”

“Megan, no one’s
going to take you.”

“He will! He’ll
never let me go. Not after what I’ve done. And if he finds
you…” My resolve began to fail and whimpering took the
place of my voice. “I don’t know what he’ll do to
you. So please, you have to leave, too.”

When he still didn’t,
I actually thrust my arm towards the door, anger building within, my
heart drumming relentlessly in my chest. “NICKOLAS! LEAVE!”

“Tell me why!”
he shouted.

“Because I
KILLED HIM!”