1 WEEK AGO
"There!!" I yelled, pointing at the house, which had a flickering light and a small sign of habitation.
Damien tilted his head up and started jogging lightly towards the house; his pace had slowed since we had been...rather, he had been running with me on his back for the last 30 minutes.
When we got to the front porch, Damien dropped me down, and the splinters, or maybe glass shards, pierced deeper into my skin. I wanted to wince, but I didn't want to appear weaker than I already seemed.
"This looks like a place where a murderer drags his victims to before he kills them," Damien said, his eyes fixed on the sign that said, "Sally Angels Motel," which was faded and hanging to the side.
"No shit," I concurred under my breath.
Damien turned to the front door and pressed the doorbell.
No answer, and he did it again, this time with a frown, which began to form on my face when he did it two more times, and there was still no answer.
"I don't think anyone is home," Damien said, scratching the back of his neck in frustration.
"Let's just go; maybe we will find another," he said. "Come on."
As we turned on the porch and walked down a few stairs, the door creaked open slightly, and we snapped our heads back.
An old woman with horn-rimmed glasses came out, straining to look at us.
"Who is it?" she asked, and Damien cleared his throat, racing up the stairs.
"Good evening..."
"Is that you, Antonio?!" the woman asked a little too loudly.
"No, I am not Antonio; you see..."
"No, you must be my Antonio; why are you lying?" she asked, reaching forward to touch him, and Damien's eyes widened as he stepped back, almost tripping.
The door creaked open again, revealing an older man who rushed forward and held the woman's hands.
"Kathy, I told you not to come out here alone; it isn't safe," he said, putting his arms around her and trying to turn her back into the house.
"But Antonio..." Kathy said, pointing at Damien.
"I am so sorry about her," the old man said with an apologetic smile.
"It's no problem, sir," Damien said, stepping up again.
"What are you folks doing here at this odd hour?" he asked, his eyes glancing around and widening when he saw the blood on both our hands and the droplets of wine red on the floor mixed with the rain.
"You see, I and my wife were just robbed," Damien said, trying to explain the reason for the blood.
Did he just refer to me as his wife?
"Oh, I don't want no business with that," he said. "Come on, let's go, Kathy," pushing her inside.
"Please, we have nowhere else to go!" I said, my voice octaves higher than it normally is, blood rushing to my head rapidly.
"Please, sir, we will pay..." I started, and Damien raised his brows at me, mouthing, "How?" We obviously didn't have any money to pay, but we were desperate.
"I don't want your money," the old man said, pushing Kathy into the door and about to lock it.
"I am pregnant!" I yelled in a voice I couldn't even recognize as mine; even Damien looked shocked.
"Are you really going to leave a pregnant woman out here in the rain?" I said, tucking strands of my wet hair behind my ear and smiling as the door creaked open slightly.
***
"Wow, I didn't think you had that in you, wifey," Damien teased, using a knife to try to remove the glass shards from my leg.
"First of all, never call me wifey. Had what in me?" I asked, whispering "fuck" under my breath as he poured an alcohol solution that stained the bathroom tiles red.
"You always seemed so afraid of Mia; you wouldn't even look me in the eye. Now you lie and say you are pregnant," Damien said, motioning for me to sit on the counter.
"First of all, you are the one that said we were married. Secondly, I am not scared of Mia," I said, wincing in pain as he removed the first shard of glass using a surgical blade he borrowed from the couple.
"If I didn't look you in the eye, Mr. Castillo, it's probably because I don't like you very much, and you are dating my best friend," I said, and Damien rolled his eyes.
"Is that the only reason?" he asked, making me scoff.
"What's up with all the questions, Damien?" I asked.
"I just want to know if your reason for avoiding me over the years had nothing to do with that incident in Valley View a few years ago, high school? If I am not mistaken," he said. I squinted my eyes at him and feigned indignation.
"I have no idea what you are talking about, Damien," I said.
"Okay," he replied, wrapping a white cloth over my leg for pressure and giving my body a once-over that made me squirmish.
"Do you feel pain anywhere else?" he asked.
I found it so absurd how quickly he was to let the Mia matter go; it was so unlike him. He lifted his gaze to mine when I didn't answer, and I cleared my throat.
"Um...no, I would just ice my shoulders tomorrow." He nodded.
"The old man left some clothes for us to change into, " he said pointing to the clothes hanging on the shower and he walked away from the room and I cringed mentally afit this.
Fuck Francis Backlay for putting me through this.
As the steam washed down my face in the shower, I realized that my whole body ached, and I had a few bruises and scrapes here and there.
I also had a very important realization: no one else knew what happened at Valley View that day. Not even Nina knew, so how the fuck did Damien know about it?
I took a breath and walked into the room to find him already sleeping on the far end of the bed, already using two pillows to make a demarcation.
As I stared at the discolored white on the ceiling, probably mold, I couldn't help but wonder how Mia would react if she knew I was lying in bed with her fiancé right now.