Idiot - Laura Clery Page 0,27
with her? He said, he PROMISED, she meant nothing to him.
I muttered, “Just let me pack my things and I’ll leave.”
“Make it quick,” she said in a vengeful tone without skipping a beat. She let me in.
I started to grab my things. She sat down on the mattress next to Damon, cuddled him close and started petting his messy hair while glaring at me, like an evil Bond villain petting his cat. Damon gurgled in his sleep. Ah yes, there’s the prize we were battling over.
I finished packing my clothes. Then I took one of the naked paintings of me off the wall and stuffed it in my bag as a memory of these wonderful, wonderful two months. I got it most of the way in, but not completely. My crudely rendered tits were hanging out of the top of my suitcase.
I took a breath. My mind was racing as I tried to figure out where I was going to go next.
“Can I just use Damon’s phone? I need to find a place to stay.”
She just kept glaring at me. I took that as a yes, so I grabbed Damon’s phone, stepped into the hallway, and called Lavan in a panic.
“Lavan, I’m in trouble and I need a place to go—can I stay with you? I’m really scared.”
“Yes, of course! Are you okay?”
Natalie yelled from the other room, “HURRY THE FUCK UP!”
I lowered my voice. “No, not really. I’m not safe here anymore. I’ll see you soon.” I hung up.
I went back inside the apartment and handed her the phone. She threw it aside. She was still petting Damon’s hair. Everything about this situation was so fucked up. I couldn’t handle it. I had to do something, anything, to make it less fucked up—and to hopefully make this deranged, controlling, and dangerous woman not kill me. That would be ideal.
I looked up at her. “I’m sorry I laughed the other night.” I really did feel sorry. “I wasn’t laughing at you, I just laugh at uncomfortable things. Damon was telling me to shut up, so . . .” I trailed off. I didn’t need to ramble at my mortal enemy right now.
She stared at me for a minute, surprised. Her crazy rage softened a bit. She looked down at Damon.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I know how Damon gets.”
We were supposed to be enemies, but I think my apology eased the tension just a bit. I was even a bit relieved that I was finally getting off this rickety roller coaster of a relationship without, like, dying. The craziness was finally over. I was out of Damon’s clutches. I felt a weight lifted.
I smiled a bit. “Yeah, he can get crazy, huh?”
She laughed. “Tell me about it!”
Yup, Damon’s ex and I were bonding over what a psycho he was as he lay passed out, half-naked between us.
She jumped into a story about him almost jumping off a bridge when she had to go on a trip to see her parents. How sweet and normal! I told her about him lying in the middle of the road, yelling at any friend I made, and smashing my phone earlier today. Oh, Damon! What a goofball.
Our laughter got more and more raucous. So much so that it woke him up.
His eyes popped open and he turned his head slowly from right to left, gradually realizing the severity of his situation. A terrifying, angry, psychotic look washed over his face. He shot up, grabbed Natalie, and started pushing her toward the door. I recognized that grip on her arms—that was going to bruise later. “GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! GO!” he yelled.
I quickly stood up and grabbed my suitcase. “DON’T PUSH HER AROUND! I’M LEAVING! NOT HER! ME!”
He shoved me out of the way, then physically pushed Natalie out of the studio apartment. She screamed and resisted as much as she could. “Damon, please! I love you! Please!” But he was stronger, and he wanted her out. He locked the door. I was petrified. She pleaded from behind the door, once again. I wasn’t laughing this time.
I was appalled, thinking, HOW? How could she love someone so cruel?!
Yet here I was, in the same situation as her.
I grabbed my bag and attempted to leave. He looked at me with such rage in his eyes. It’s hard to describe, even, but it made me sick to my stomach. He looked like all the humanity inside him had drained out. He was only anger and adrenaline