I was cruel to Deidre La Russo. Said things I should never say to a woman.
Seen things happen to her.
Things darker than the bottle of liquor I consume.
I felt helpless.
The memories are more tortuous than the act of her torture.
Then she walks back into my life, only she’s not alone.
Deidre La Russo
I have my reasons for leaving.
I lived through hell.
I was beaten, tortured. Drugged.
I have secrets.
I have to tell them.
Danger brought us all together.
Danger may rip us apart.
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Aidan can never see me like this. He’s lodged in my head too. I should hate him after the things he said to me, the way he treated me after we gave in to the carnal desire we felt for each other. I know I treated the man poorly, but he just kept getting under my skin. His deep voice. His bright blue eyes. His muscular body. His six-foot-something frame. I hate him.
Oh, I heard him, all right, demanding for me to hang on while I felt like I was going to die every time Royal pierced me with his knife. He even called me baby a few times. He’s a callous asshole. A user. A fucking tool of a man, and I don’t want to see him. I’ve gone insane. I don’t want or need anybody. They can let me die. Yes. The only way to get rid of any and all of these voices in my head is to die.
“Deidre.” An older woman comes into my room, followed by my dad. The look of concern on their faces stops me in the tracks of plotting ways to kill myself.
“I’m Doctor Jenkins. Your father here has told me you want to leave. I cannot discharge you. This is the best place for you to be. You have to heal. Now, are you in any pain, sweetheart? Would you like the nurse to give you—”
“Noooooooooooooo! Quit saying I have to heal! You don’t know what I need or have to do! None of you do!” I scream. Her body jolts back.
I’ve fucking had it with these people not listening to me. I start to thrash in the small bed. Kick the covers off. My body is so weak I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. All I know is if they won’t help me, then I will help myself. I will get out of here. I will. Then I will die. The howling laughter, the slimy deep tones, their faces, they will all be gone.
About the Author
After raising her children she decided to publish her first book and retiring from being a hairstylist.
She now writes full time.
She's a huge sports fan with her favorite being Football and Tennis.
She's a giver and will do anything she can to help another person succeed!