On the Other Side(66)

“Get out of my apartment!” he yelled, once he was up.

“You mean my apartment?”

“Nothing in here belongs to you,” he said.

“You are quite mistaken, Mr. Westman. Everything in here will belong to me eventually, including this apartment. You’ll be lucky if you can afford a room when I’m done with you; that is if you’re not in prison, getting butt fucked. Have you forgotten you’re a rapist, an abuser, maybe even a murderer? You better be nice to me, you bastard, or I won’t even leave you with the clothes on your back. It will give me such pleasure to move my new man into this place and think of you every time I make love to him.”

Damita knew the last comment was too much, but she was finally starting to feel her anger. She didn’t mean much of what she was saying, but she so wanted to push his buttons. She felt he more than deserved it.

The moment she mentioned another man, Neal walked quickly into the living room and dove at the chair she was sitting in. Her and the chair landed face down and he continued what he had started. His fingers once again went around her throat and she fought him with all that she had. This time, however, she was in a bad position and she was sure the outcome would not be the same. Just when she thought it was all over, the ironing board fell and the iron that was on top of it landed right next to her. She picked up the iron and crashed it down on top of Neal’s head. When he released her, she scrambled from under him and came to a sitting position on the floor.

For a while Neal was prone and posed no threat. As soon as he came to a sitting position, she hit Neal dead center at the top of his head again. He fell to the floor and she continued to hit him, over and over again. Neal tried to block her blows, but his efforts were useless. She continued to bludgeon him with the iron, ignoring the blood that sprayed and attached to her clothing, the floor and the surrounding walls. It wasn’t until her arm began to hurt that she stopped. When she recovered and saw what she had done, she sobbed into her hands and as quickly as she started, she abruptly stopped. She reached down and caressed Neal’s blood-stained cheek. She whispered close to his ear.

“ ’Til death us do part,” she said.





CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT


Damita took a shower. She put on a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, then went into the kitchen and fixed herself a turkey and cheese sandwich. She searched for a can of tomato soup she thought she had bought, but couldn’t find it. She got pissed off all over again when she realized Neal had probably eaten it.

“Motherfucker doesn’t even like tomato soup. He ate it just because he knows it’s my favorite,” she said aloud.

She sat in the living room and ate her sandwich and looked at the television. The coverage of the Towers collapse was beginning to get to her, so she searched for something else to watch. She was able to find one channel with old sitcoms that didn’t mention the World Trade Center, terrorists or anything even closely related. She felt good. She kept thinking she would feel even better if she had that tomato soup. That’s when she extended her foot and kicked Neal.

For a moment she considered calling her mother and Carmella. They were probably both out of their heads with worry. But, she needed a moment to herself. She had to think. For the first hour, she thought Neal would simply get back up and start ranting and raving all over again. When he didn’t get up, she checked his pulse. She remembered seeing people do that on television. She didn’t think she felt anything, but wasn’t sure if she was looking in the right place, so she checked her own in the same place.

“Definitely dead,” she said matter-of-factly.

A bit of food in her stomach and clean clothes on her back, she was able to start to see things more clearly. She looked around the apartment. There was blood all over the place. The apartment itself looked like it had been ransacked. There were not only drugs out and visible to the eye, but she was sure somewhere in the apartment there were probably more illegal substances. She remembered one of her last conversations with Wendy.

“Wendy, if you had it to do all over again, would you make the same decision? Would you still leave it all behind; your family, your friends?

“I absolutely would. That’s what we do, isn’t it? Whatever we have to in order to stay alive?”

She realized that was exactly what she would have to do. She would run. She would miss her mother and Carmella, but if she could speak to them, they would agree with her. After all she had been through, she had no intention of going to prison for killing a piece of garbage like Neal. She tried to help make it easier, by telling herself that one day she might be able to see her loved ones again. However, logically, she knew she was lying to herself.