Damita nudged Brandon. “I truly hate that you’re a fireman. Couldn’t you have chosen something that allows your loved ones to sleep at night?”
“Awww. Are you worried about me?”
“Hell yeah, I’m worried about you. The only thing you could have chosen that would have been worse than a firefighter is a policeman.”
“That was on the list, too,” Brandon said, chuckling.
Damita giggled. “How did I know?”
“Like I said, I was trying to find myself. Know one thing, though. Whether I’m a firefighter, policeman, or a garbage collector, I’ll always be there for you.”
“I know you will. Now, let’s finish that run. We have to keep you in shape if you’re going to keep your promise.”
“Sounds like a plan, beautiful.”
When they stood up, Damita and Brandon hugged one another tightly and Brandon kissed Damita on her forehead.
While Brandon and Damita were running, they were oblivious to Neal keeping pace only a few yards or so behind them.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Damita walked in the door sweaty from running and looking forward to a shower and was greeted by a blow to the stomach. She doubled over in pain.
“You lying bitch!”
“What? What now?”
“I saw you . . . and him.” Neal had pure venom in his eyes. “You’re fucking him, aren’t you? You stood right in front of me and lied to my face. I knew you were lying. I’m not blind. Didn’t you think I’d figure it out eventually?”
“I ran into Brandon while I was out running.”
“What a coincidence,” Neal said sarcastically.
Before he had a chance to hit her again, Damita ran into the bedroom, grabbed a suitcase from the closet and began packing a bag.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
She stared at him defiantly. “I’m leaving you, Neal. This is not the nineteen fifties. I’m not some uneducated, unemployed housewife who depends on her husband to survive. I don’t know what I’ve been thinking. I’ve got people who love me. Why am I afraid? You’re the one that’s alone. You have no friends, no family who give a damn about you. I’m it. I was going to be your family and now I know exactly why you’re alone. You’re a fucking nut!”
Neal grabbed Damita and pulled her to the floor. He pummeled her with his fists. She couldn’t believe that any man with a conscience could hit a woman the way that he was hitting her. This time, however, she at least tried to fight back. Her attempts were useless. Neal outweighed Damita by at least eighty pounds and stood close to a foot taller.
When she managed to avoid his fists, he used his feet. He kicked her so hard she was surprised she was still alive. His feet connected with her head, her midsection, anywhere he landed. At one point he actually stepped his foot down hard on her fingers, when she tried to reach for her cell phone. She was sure when it was all over. If she didn’t wind up dead, she would have numerous broken bones.
As she curled up into the fetal position to protect herself from the blows, he kicked and kicked at her until she finally passed out from the pain.
When he was sure she was out, Neal looked down at her and kicked her one more time for good measure.
“Don’t fuck with me, bitch,” he said, before leaving the apartment.
• • •
Damita was still curled up on the bedroom floor when she woke up the next day. It was noon and she realized she was supposed to be returning to work the very same day. She attempted to stand and couldn’t seem to make her legs work. Each time she stood, her legs gave out. She grasped at the Persian King area rug on the floor in an effort to pull herself over to a piece of furniture that would support her weight. She braced herself against the dresser in the room and stood. This time she didn’t fall. Her head was hurting so bad she was sure she had a concussion.
She reached for her cell phone and turned it on but nothing happened. She wasn’t sure if it needed charging or if Neal had done something to it. She picked up the receiver on her house phone and was happy to find a dial tone. She called her office. The receptionist answered.
“Hello, Danielle,” Damita said.
“Hey! How are you, Damita? Mr. Underhill was looking for you. He thought you were due back today, but I told him I thought you were coming back on Monday.”
“Mr. Underhill was right. I was due back today, but I was in a car accident last night,” she lied.
“Oh my God, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I’m a little banged up, but I’ll be okay. I won’t be able to come into work today, though.”
“I’ll let Mr. Underhill know, or did you want to speak to him yourself?”