Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77372 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77372 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Why? Why do you hate me so much? I don’t get it?” I asked under my breath afraid others would hear us. “In high school you treated me like shit. Now you come back into my life and corner me into this ridiculous situation. Sometimes I think you’ve changed, but then you turn back to being the Daimon I knew in high school. Why? What could I have ever possibly done to you?” I asked defeated and tired of his shit, but all Daimon did was glare at me. “Fine, Daimon, reduce everything I do to the least common denominator. I'm all about money then. If that’s how you see me then that’s who I am.” I threw the towel on the bar and left.
***
“It doesn’t look like you two are doing too well,” Elissa admitted. She took me to French Roast on 11th street close to the West Village. When the waiter finally came with our order, Elissa nearly grabbed the plate out of the waiter’s hand; she was hungry for her Croque Monsieur. She licked her lips and rubbed her hands together as she stared at it.
“It’s just a rough patch,” I said quietly as I picked at my croquettes the waiter had placed in front of me. I was happily thinking about when this farce with Daimon would end.
“It might be a rough patch, and he is an asshole, but at least you both have the sizzle,” she said, cutting into her sandwich.
“The sizzle?” I wondered.
“Yeah! The sizzle. It’s pretty awesome to watch you two go at each other,” she laughed. She put a fork full of food in her mouth and moaned at the flavors. “So good,” she muttered as she chewed. “So tell me about Frank,” she said, looking over at me.
“How do you know about Frank?” I asked, nervous at what she knew.
“I overheard Daimon and Darren talking, something about your old boyfriend sniffing around you,” she said nonchalantly.
“Frank…Frank.” I stopped and exhaled.
“I'm assuming it’s pretty bad.” She put her fork down and waited.
“Frank was really nice when I first met him. Sweet even. He was supportive with everything. He knew how much I had to work and why and didn’t care. Said I made him happy. That’s until the whole economy decided to go south. He lost his job and lost, I guess, his confidence. He went out looking for work, but no one was hiring. He started to drink and kept taking from his savings. I tried to help as much as I could, but he changed, becoming strange and obsessive. Telling me I’d leave him.” A memory came back and I cringed. ‘You stupid bitch, you’re going to leave me too, now that I'm a failure.’ I shook it off and continued. “He started to…hit me. At first it was a slap here and there. I kept making excuses for him. Trying to rationalize it all, but it kept getting worse. Until one night,” I said grimly.
“What happened that night?” Elissa asked softly. The bistro sounds became muffled as I closed my eyes, remembering that night as it flooded back. The memory became vivid and so real. I took a deep breath and exhaled, reminding myself of it was long ago.
“He was pretty drunk. I remember beer bottles everywhere. I had enough and thought maybe tough love would work. But it didn’t. He beat me and then reached for a beer bottle and…” I stopped and opened my eyes; my body shook at the recollection of that night. “My father was with me when I woke up in the hospital.” I swallowed the giant lump that was nearly choking me.
“Jesus Christ, Addie,” she murmured.
“He was arrested and I was left with a scar on my lower back for it. I hadn’t seen him since, until now,” I admitted.
“So what does he want now?” Elissa’s voice trembled with worry.
“I don’t know,” I murmured. “I really don’t know.”
The suspense song came ringing through my iPhone. Elissa looked at me curiously making me smile. “It’s his ringer.” I shrugged as I took it out of my pocket and read my text.
Daimon:Where r u?
Me:At French Roast
Daimon:Which one?
Me:Downtown
Daimon:Ill be there in fifteen
“He’s coming to pick me up,” I moaned.
“You have the sizzle, the guy adores you,” she smiled. “He might be an asshole, but he’s no Frank.”
“I guess,” I said, knowing it was probably more the fact he wanted answers for something. What answers? I didn’t know. Him? Adore me? Not in this lifetime.
I left Elissa at the bistro and headed outside, it was well past four o’clock in the morning. I didn’t see his car anywhere, I kept looking but he wasn’t there yet. I was tired, beat and exhausted, but glad I had come out with Elissa. She was completely understanding about Frank and actually wished evil things on him, which kind of made me happy. I suddenly heard a low rumble from a black motorcycle, the kind which races in the streets. It stopped right in front of me, the driver with his helmet on nodded when he saw me. I stepped back as he straightened up and removed his helmet. Daimon just smiled.