Wildest Dreams
Chris
I lay awake, my son nestled into my side, soft snores coming from the exhausted toddler. Sleep is out of the question. I knew that the moment I laid down. My eyes flicker from the ceiling to my son and wish I could be as worry free. He knows nothing of life’s complications and I feel jealous. I let out a sigh and slip my body from underneath Cash while replacing my warmth with the comforter to keep him from waking. My phone sits on the bedside table and I press the home button to check for any word from Matt. Nothing. The clock reads one fourteen. He should've been back by now.
I make my way out of the room and down the stairs, taking my phone with me just in case. When I get to the kitchen I turn on the tv hanging above the countertop and try to drown out my own thoughts with the sound of late night news. The house is so quiet at night and it's a little unnerving. My phone sits on the granite counter and my eyes bore holes into it, willing it with my mind to ring.
I'm brought out of my thoughts by a soft breeze blowing through the loose strands of hair that have fallen from my pony tail. Goosebumps raise on my exposed arms and the hair on the back of my neck stands. My breathing slows as my eyes scan the room. I snatch up my phone and walk silently into the dining room where the grey linen curtains are rustling with the warm California breeze.
Fear settles in the pit of my stomach as I yank the curtain open to reveal the window halfway up and a slit shaped like an X cut in the center of the screen. Autopilot takes over as I sprint back to the kitchen and pull open the drawer that holds the knives. I grab the biggest one before turning and running back up the staircase while dialing Matt's number with my free hand, my eyes searching for who I know is here with me, even if I haven't seen him, yet.
It takes several rings before anyone answers as I slow my pace at the top of the stairs, keeping as quiet as a mouse.
“I'll be home soon, we are waiting at the drop off spot. Should be any ti-“
“Matt, he's in the house. Chris is in the house.” My voice is a sharp whisper.
”What? No, I just spoke with him.”
“I'm telling you he's in the house.” The light in Cash’s bedroom is on and my heart sinks.
The light is a haunting glow as it illuminates the darkness of the hallway. I can hear Matt shouting things at Brian. “I have to go.” My movements are slow, silent other than my whispers to Matt.
”I'm calling 911. Get Cash and get out of the house. I'm coming.” I grip the knife in one hand as I approach my son’s bedroom. I peek around the entrance and see his tall frame, his back to me, staring at the photos hanging on the wall. They're a mixture of Cash, myself and Cash, and Matt and I before I left him. Chris’s arms are crossed and I feel sick, but I know I have to defend my son until the police get here. I step into the bedroom, thanking God that Cash is asleep in my bed and not his own.
“What are you doing here?” My voice comes out shaky. Chris doesn’t move, his back still to me. “Why? Matt was going to pay you.”
“I loved you at first. Did you know that?” His deep voice sends a chill down my spine. He's eerily calm for just having broken into my house. Chris turns to face me, looking strangely put together. There's no sign of the drunk Chris I'm accustomed to.
“Why are you here?” I ask him again, my voice stronger this time. Chris takes a step closer to me as I take a step back.
“Before I found out you were pregnant. I thought you were way out of my league but you liked me back.” Another step forward, I take another back. “I knew what it was when you told me you were pregnant. You just needed someone to take care of you. You didn't give a shit about me.”
“Chris, i-“ he's not wrong. Did I find him attractive? Sure. He was tall and muscular which sometimes reminded me of Matt. Was I afraid of being alone, yes.
“You didn't want to be alone!” The rage takes over and his face burns red. “I loved you, you stupid, ungrateful bitch. I worked my ass off for you! For what!? So you could get a job at that sleazy fucking club and make sure you were never around me?”
“Hurting you was never my intention.” I raise my hands up in defense as I'm backed against the wall with no where else to go.
“No, your intention was to use me until there was nothing good left in me.” His eyes are crazy as he comes face to face with me.
“I didn't force you to put your hands on me. I didn't force you to be a hateful piece of shit.” A malicious grin spreads across his face and my stomach turns as he reaches up to brush a finger across my cheek. I turn my head away and clench my eyes closed.
“You're always the victim.” His voice is sickeningly sweet. “But this time you get to feel what it's like to have your heart ripped apart.” My face snaps back to him, my eyebrows furrowed. At that moment another man steps into the room and I recognize his face instantly. It's the man from the store who confronted me about paying Chris. In his arms he holds Cash, who is still asleep with his head rested on the man’s shoulder.
“Chris, please. I'll give you anything. Money, anything.” I beg. “Please don't hurt him.” Chris stares at me for a moment longer before reaching down and taking the knife out of my hands. My gaze flickers from the man holding my son to Chris as my heart races out of my chest. I struggle against Chris but he reaches up and slaps me across the face. I've been hit harder, but I know it's a warning.
“You can beat me all you want, but I'm not letting you take my son.” My tone is lethal as I shove him hard in the chest and knee him in the crotch. Chris falters for a moment as I rip the knife out of his hands and bolt over to the man holding my son. Before I can reach him, I'm grabbed around the waist and drug to the ground. Chris flips me over on my back as I struggle, the knife waving wildly, nicking Chris on the cheek in the process.
“Stupid bitch.” He mumbles out as he winds his fist back and punches me. I'm stunned for a moment, my nose erupting in so much pain tears begin to steam down my cheeks. One more punch and I can feel the blood running down my cheeks from my nose which has to be broken. I can taste the copper liquid on my tongue. My brain is foggy from the force but I continue to struggle. At this point, Cash has woken and realized he's not being held my a familiar face. His cries stab through my head like a knife. A third punch and my vision goes black for a moment and nausea sweeps through me.
Through the haze I can hear the sound of police sirens. Finally.
“Looks like it's time for us to go.” Chris stands up and fixes his clothes before stepping over me like nothing just happened.
“No, please.” I cry out as I try to scramble to my feet, but as I reach my knees Chris lifts his foot and kicks me in the side of the head which causes me to fall back to the floor, unable to get back up this time.
By the time my rattled brain can focus again, the room is empty and I can hear the sound of the police banging on the front door. My body is too weak to stand, so I lay there in defeat, letting the darkness take me over.
I make my way out of the room and down the stairs, taking my phone with me just in case. When I get to the kitchen I turn on the tv hanging above the countertop and try to drown out my own thoughts with the sound of late night news. The house is so quiet at night and it's a little unnerving. My phone sits on the granite counter and my eyes bore holes into it, willing it with my mind to ring.
I'm brought out of my thoughts by a soft breeze blowing through the loose strands of hair that have fallen from my pony tail. Goosebumps raise on my exposed arms and the hair on the back of my neck stands. My breathing slows as my eyes scan the room. I snatch up my phone and walk silently into the dining room where the grey linen curtains are rustling with the warm California breeze.
Fear settles in the pit of my stomach as I yank the curtain open to reveal the window halfway up and a slit shaped like an X cut in the center of the screen. Autopilot takes over as I sprint back to the kitchen and pull open the drawer that holds the knives. I grab the biggest one before turning and running back up the staircase while dialing Matt's number with my free hand, my eyes searching for who I know is here with me, even if I haven't seen him, yet.
It takes several rings before anyone answers as I slow my pace at the top of the stairs, keeping as quiet as a mouse.
“I'll be home soon, we are waiting at the drop off spot. Should be any ti-“
“Matt, he's in the house. Chris is in the house.” My voice is a sharp whisper.
”What? No, I just spoke with him.”
“I'm telling you he's in the house.” The light in Cash’s bedroom is on and my heart sinks.
The light is a haunting glow as it illuminates the darkness of the hallway. I can hear Matt shouting things at Brian. “I have to go.” My movements are slow, silent other than my whispers to Matt.
”I'm calling 911. Get Cash and get out of the house. I'm coming.” I grip the knife in one hand as I approach my son’s bedroom. I peek around the entrance and see his tall frame, his back to me, staring at the photos hanging on the wall. They're a mixture of Cash, myself and Cash, and Matt and I before I left him. Chris’s arms are crossed and I feel sick, but I know I have to defend my son until the police get here. I step into the bedroom, thanking God that Cash is asleep in my bed and not his own.
“What are you doing here?” My voice comes out shaky. Chris doesn’t move, his back still to me. “Why? Matt was going to pay you.”
“I loved you at first. Did you know that?” His deep voice sends a chill down my spine. He's eerily calm for just having broken into my house. Chris turns to face me, looking strangely put together. There's no sign of the drunk Chris I'm accustomed to.
“Why are you here?” I ask him again, my voice stronger this time. Chris takes a step closer to me as I take a step back.
“Before I found out you were pregnant. I thought you were way out of my league but you liked me back.” Another step forward, I take another back. “I knew what it was when you told me you were pregnant. You just needed someone to take care of you. You didn't give a shit about me.”
“Chris, i-“ he's not wrong. Did I find him attractive? Sure. He was tall and muscular which sometimes reminded me of Matt. Was I afraid of being alone, yes.
“You didn't want to be alone!” The rage takes over and his face burns red. “I loved you, you stupid, ungrateful bitch. I worked my ass off for you! For what!? So you could get a job at that sleazy fucking club and make sure you were never around me?”
“Hurting you was never my intention.” I raise my hands up in defense as I'm backed against the wall with no where else to go.
“No, your intention was to use me until there was nothing good left in me.” His eyes are crazy as he comes face to face with me.
“I didn't force you to put your hands on me. I didn't force you to be a hateful piece of shit.” A malicious grin spreads across his face and my stomach turns as he reaches up to brush a finger across my cheek. I turn my head away and clench my eyes closed.
“You're always the victim.” His voice is sickeningly sweet. “But this time you get to feel what it's like to have your heart ripped apart.” My face snaps back to him, my eyebrows furrowed. At that moment another man steps into the room and I recognize his face instantly. It's the man from the store who confronted me about paying Chris. In his arms he holds Cash, who is still asleep with his head rested on the man’s shoulder.
“Chris, please. I'll give you anything. Money, anything.” I beg. “Please don't hurt him.” Chris stares at me for a moment longer before reaching down and taking the knife out of my hands. My gaze flickers from the man holding my son to Chris as my heart races out of my chest. I struggle against Chris but he reaches up and slaps me across the face. I've been hit harder, but I know it's a warning.
“You can beat me all you want, but I'm not letting you take my son.” My tone is lethal as I shove him hard in the chest and knee him in the crotch. Chris falters for a moment as I rip the knife out of his hands and bolt over to the man holding my son. Before I can reach him, I'm grabbed around the waist and drug to the ground. Chris flips me over on my back as I struggle, the knife waving wildly, nicking Chris on the cheek in the process.
“Stupid bitch.” He mumbles out as he winds his fist back and punches me. I'm stunned for a moment, my nose erupting in so much pain tears begin to steam down my cheeks. One more punch and I can feel the blood running down my cheeks from my nose which has to be broken. I can taste the copper liquid on my tongue. My brain is foggy from the force but I continue to struggle. At this point, Cash has woken and realized he's not being held my a familiar face. His cries stab through my head like a knife. A third punch and my vision goes black for a moment and nausea sweeps through me.
Through the haze I can hear the sound of police sirens. Finally.
“Looks like it's time for us to go.” Chris stands up and fixes his clothes before stepping over me like nothing just happened.
“No, please.” I cry out as I try to scramble to my feet, but as I reach my knees Chris lifts his foot and kicks me in the side of the head which causes me to fall back to the floor, unable to get back up this time.
By the time my rattled brain can focus again, the room is empty and I can hear the sound of the police banging on the front door. My body is too weak to stand, so I lay there in defeat, letting the darkness take me over.