Downward Spiral Read online

  Downward

  Spiral

  Downward

  Spiral

  by Bria Starr

  Downward Spiral

  Copyright © 2014 by Bria Starr

  Cover by: Mae I Design and Photography

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means including photocopying, recording, or information storage and retrieval without permission in writing from the author.

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  Printed in U.S.A

  -Dedication-

  To my Mama

  For always being there for me, for always being my best friend, and for always helping me to be the best I can be.

  If it wasn’t for you, I would never have sat down to write my first book. Thank you for inspiring me to do this.

  I love you.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue.......7

  Chapter 1......10

  Chapter 2......23

  Chapter 3......32

  Chapter 4......41

  Chapter 5......56

  Chapter 6......70

  Chapter 7......79

  Chapter 8......96

  Chapter 9......117

  Chapter 10......135

  Chapter 11......148

  Chapter 12......160

  Chapter 13......175

  Chapter 14......184

  Chapter 15......200

  Chapter 16......215

  Chapter 17......227

  Chapter 18......241

  Chapter 19......260

  Chapter 20......270

  Chapter 21......283

  Epilogue..........297

  Prologue

  My heart stops for a brief second and I freeze, flat on my back and under my blankets in my warm bed surrounded by darkness, I’m too scared to open my eyes. My ears are strained and I hear a small, faint sound coming from several feet away. My heart starts pounding, practically beating out of my chest. I try not to panic, concentrating on my breathing.

  There’s someone in my room!

  I lie here, senses heightened, listening for another sound, secretly praying my mind is playing tricks on me. Is he gone? Was he ever even here? The presence felt like a man’s, but who would be watching me sleep?

  I slowly crack open my right eye, and through the blurriness I try to adjust to the dark. I look to where I thought I had heard the sound coming from, but I can’t see anything. I open my eye a little wider and attempt to look around my room.

  Nothing.

  I close my eyes and relax a little. I let out a steady breath and scold myself for being paranoid. I can’t help but still think about that night. It’s given me nightmares more often than I care to admit. Even after all this time, it’s fresh in my memory as if it just happened yesterday.

  I push out the thoughts and try to concentrate on happier times. I think of green meadows with wildflowers. At times like these, I’m desperate for the cheesiest of things to take me away.

  I’m ripped from my peaceful thoughts as I hear another sound. Closer this time. Footsteps approaching my bed. My haven. Pulling the covers over my head now won’t keep my attacker from killing me, no matter how much I wish it would.

  I wait for it.

  “Open your eyes,” he says. His voice is stone cold and ragged.

  I don’t make a move, eyes sealed shut as I fight back the tears I know are coming. He’s found me. He’s finally found me. After all this time.

  “Open your eyes,” he growls forcefully.

  It takes me several seconds before I muster up the courage to peel my eyelids apart as they fight me every step of the way.

  I open my eyes to see the round, silver barrel of a gun pointed right between my eyes. I gasp and choke down a sob, closing my eyes again, wishing him away. Wishing he would just disappear.

  My worst fear has finally come. And he’s brought his gun with him.

  “I said, open your eyes!”

  I feel the cold metal touch my forehead and I whimper. This is it. I’m going to die. He is going to end my life like he should have six months ago.

  I start praying, thanking God for the good things in my life. Remembering my parents, my older brother, my—

  Bang!

  Chapter 1

  I wake up drenched in sweat. If I were to lie here and piss myself right now, you’d never be able to tell the difference. I say a silent prayer, thankful I got to wake up this morning, whether it be after a shitty night of sleep or not. I pull off the sheet that is stuck to my legs and slide out of my bed. My bedspread is on the ground several feet away; I must have thrown it off sometime during the night. Maybe I wasn’t laying as still as I thought I was. I peel my wet T-shirt off and throw it into the dirty clothes hamper as I make my way towards the bathroom to shower.

  After changing my sheets for the third time this week, I head down the hall to the kitchen.

  “Rough night?” Laura asks from the living room couch of the small apartment we both share.

  “Same shit different day. Was I loud?”

  “I’ve heard worse. I could tell what was happening though. Didn’t feel like getting punched this morning so I let you suffer through it.” Her eyes soften as her mouth turns into a slight frown.

  As far as looks go, she’s all woman with her shoulder length curly blonde hair and blue eyes, but personality wise, she’s more like a guy. Which I actually prefer. She has a full sleeve of tattoos on her right arm, her left has a half sleeve, and that’s not even counting all the ones she has on her back and the giant nautical star on her right thigh.

  “I said I was sorry about that. I think that was the first time I’ve ever punched anyone. I’m glad I don’t remember it.”

  “Well, I sure do.”

  I move towards the Keurig machine and place my favorite green mug under the spout before popping in a cappuccino mix. Thirty seconds later, I’m gifted with the overwhelming scent of caramel as I take a sip and burn my tongue on the scorching liquid. I sit down at our small round table and try to block out the thoughts of my most recent dream as it plays through my mind.

  “What time are you heading out to your appointment?” she asks.

  “Soon. I’m meeting Corbin at the café for lunch after, so I won’t be home for a few hours.”

  “Okay, I was just curious.”

  I blow on my cappuccino and take small sips as I catch glimpses of a crime scene investigation show she’s become obsessed with. I used to enjoy morbid shows like that one. Now I’m afraid of them.

  Real evil truly exists in this world.

  I rinse out my mug and set it in the dishwasher before heading back to my room. I sit on my bed and read for the extra fifteen minutes I have before I’m supposed to leave.

  When I pull into the parking lot of the building I’ve come to visit for an hour, every week for the last three months, I sit in my car and sigh. I hate coming here. I know talking to a therapist is supposed to be good for me, but I don’t feel any different from what I felt three months ago. I take another deep breath and open my car door, making sure it’s locked, before walking through the entrance.

  ***

  “Paige! Over here!” Corbin yells to me from a corner booth.

  I look around and notice the entire place is now staring at me. It’s like we’re all suddenly acquainted, them knowing my name and all, yet I don’t think I know one person in here besides my boyfriend of two years who just outed me.

  “Thanks for that,” I say in a flattened tone when I reach him. “I didn’t see your car outside.” I casuall
y glance around to see if anyone is still staring at me.

  “I was at the office finishing up a few things quick, so I walked here.” The café is connected to a chiropractic center and Corbin’s small law firm, located right next door to our main grocery store. “How was your appointment today?”

  “Fine, I guess. You know I really don’t want to talk about it.”

  He always asks me that. I know he cares, and I love that about him, but why ruin a perfectly good day talking about horrible things?

  “I know. Someday you’ll be able to confide in me again.” A look of pain passes over his tan face.

  I force a big smile and lean forward to take his hand. “Someday,” I lie. He doesn’t need to know how crazy I really am.

  When the waitress comes back, I order a club sandwich and fries, then turn to look out the window as Corbin orders his mandarin almond salad. Car after car drives by and my mind starts to drift. When I see a pair of ugly, bloodshot eyes flashing through my head, I close my eyes and try to block out the image by picturing Laura and me on a beach drinking mojitos. I wonder if Laura would want to take a vacation with me?

  “Paige?”

  I look at Corbin. “Yeah?”

  “Where’d you go? Did you hear me?”

  “Sorry, I was just thinking.” I smile. “What did you say?”

  “Did you want to come over and hang out with me?

  Drinks in the gazebo?”

  “I’d love that.”

  We finish our lunch and take my car to his house that’s in a gated, upscale neighborhood. I park in his elegant stone driveway that lays in front of his elegant three level house. Everything about Corbin is … well, elegant.

  “Why don’t you go sit in the gazebo and I’ll grab us some drinks.”

  A drink would be so great on this hot day. I take the flagstone path around his house to the giant backyard, and walk up the steps that lead into the gazebo.

  I sit down, gazing at the St. Croix River and watching the water flow by, giving me a sense of peace and comfort. If I’m not busy doing something, that’s when my mind starts to race. I look over at Corbin walking towards me, drinks in hand. I take notice of his dark hair, his dark eyes, and his dark skin. I remember the first time I met him. We’d had an instant attraction and he asked a mutual friend for my number. I was bewildered that someone who looked like that could want me, even though I have everything a girl could ask for on the looks scale: long legs, long dark hair that goes down to my waist, and brown eyes to go with my natural dark skin tone. I’ve never had any complaints on my nice-sized chest, but it’s these damn hips I can’t seem to get rid of, no matter what workout claims it will work miracles. I’ve finally grown into my skin and life was different for me in college, compared to my school years where I was just a skinny nerd who always carried a book. Corbin hadn’t known me then, and he certainly wouldn’t be here with me now if he had.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  Always trying to get into my wandering mind.

  “Just thinking of when we first met.”

  “That was a great party. Best day of my life.” He sets my martini down and takes a seat beside me.

  I smile and wonder how happy he really is. We’d had a pretty good year and a half together before that horrible day, but there have always been some things about Corbin I don’t really like. He always tries to control the things I do or wear, he’s always pushing for me to talk to him about things I’m not comfortable with, and he is always available to me no matter the time of day. I feel like he’d be better off without me, but I think he stays because he wants to “fix” me.

  I can’t be fixed.

  Even my therapist sometimes looks at me like I’m a lost cause.

  “Do you want to stay over tonight?” He gives my thigh a small, hopeful squeeze.

  I’ve had several nightmares while spending the night at his house and I was mortified every time.

  Now I make sure to come home at night after I’ve fulfilled my sexual duties with him. I have nothing to compare it to, but it feels more like a chore, an obligation, than something I really want to do.

  I want to be enough for him, but I’m too embarrassed to see my fear and panic reflected in his eyes.

  He’ll never understand. No one will.

  No one except him …

  He often crosses my mind, but I haven’t seen him since that night. I catch myself looking for him whenever I go out or to the store, in case he happens to be around. Truth be told, I’ve been looking for him for the past six years, and have never seen him once. Not until six months ago. I don’t dare mention my thoughts of him to anyone. I don’t know what they would think. My boyfriend would think I have feelings for him, Laura would probably think I’m crazy, and who knows what the hell my therapist would throw at me.

  “I’ll stay for a bit, then we’ll see how I feel later.

  How does that sound?” I ask slowly.

  “Okay.” He smiles as he leans back into his chair.

  His maid cooks us a lovely dinner which we enjoy as we talk about the weather. As a lawyer, he has his entire life in perfect order, and I’ve learned that we’re not really compatible after all. Even if that nightmare of a time hadn’t occurred, I think I’d still feel the same way about him at this point in my life. I was close to breaking it off with him right before it happened; that’s why Laura and I had gone out to the bar that night, to talk about it over a few drinks. But he was there for me afterwards, and has been every day since. He loves me and cares for me even now, so how can I toss him aside? I feel like I owe him.

  After dinner, and a quickie on his California king sized bed, I kiss him good-bye and head home. I’m doing the best I can to keep him happy. I may not be able to give him everything we once had, but I can give him that.

  Opening the door to our apartment, I turn on the light and walk inside. It’s not bare, but there’s also not a ton of “stuff” in here either. We have what we need: freshly painted white walls, a nice couch we bought two years ago when we first moved in after graduating college, a bright, colorful rug underneath the coffee table, and a large flat screen. The kitchen is connected and we have some nice counter and cabinet space, along with plenty of room for our kitchen table. Down the hall are the bedrooms, which are situated directly across from each other. My room is only big enough to hold my queen sized bed, dresser, and bookshelf. My closet is tiny but packed to maximum capacity.

  “I thought you said you’d only be gone for a few hours?” Laura asks me as she comes out from her room.

  “Sorry, mom,” I mumble. “We went out to eat and then went back to his place for a bit. I really thought I’d get to spend most of my day off at home.”

  “Funny. And I was worried, so shush. So, you’re still not up for trying another sleepover?”

  “No, and he doesn’t push. He knows why I leave.”

  “I feel bad for him.”

  “I do too, but I’m trying. Maybe I should try harder …” I go to the cabinet and remove my prescription bottles, taking my medication with some water.

  “That’s just it. You shouldn’t have to try.” Laura walks over and sits down at the table. “I know that I will never fully know how you feel, but I was there too. I had to watch it all happen and it nearly killed me thinking I was going to lose my best friend.”

  Where did this come from? “Where are you going with this?” I ask suspiciously.

  “I don’t think you’re getting the help you need. I think you should look into going to a new therapist.”

  “I’ve only been going there for three months.”

  “Exactly. And it took three months for you to even seek help. Three months of weekly treatments is a lot, in my opinion, and should have been enough to get you going in the right direction. I know you’ll probably never be the same after something like that, but you need to try.” She takes a deep breath and throws her deep thought at me.

  “Plus, I think you’re acting kind
of fake and I don’t like it.” My mouth drops open. “I am not!”

  “Don’t act so surprised. I love you. You’re my best friend and I care about you, but I can also see right through you. You act happy, but you’re not. You’re messed up inside and I want you to please think about going somewhere else to get the right kind of help you need.” She slowly pulls out a card from her pocket—a small, plain white card with several creases on it from being in her pocket. “Just think about it. I think this guy could really help you instead of that other one who keeps dosing you up with random prescription pills. My sister sees him about some stuff and says she wouldn’t go to anyone else.”

  Maybe she has a point. I lean forward to take the card. “I’ll call him Monday morning.”

  “Thank you. I just think it could help more than it could hurt.”

  I sigh. “I guess I’ll try anything to be normal again.”

  ***

  Monday morning comes quick and I get ready to head into work. Belle’s Pepper is where I’ve worked since I was old enough to start at the age of fifteen. Nine years later, I’m now the manager of this fine family restaurant. Laura and I were hired together as hostesses, and once I’d turned sixteen I was allowed to be a waitress, although Laura decided to stay on as a hostess because it was easier. But it was also less pay, so she ultimately ended up quitting and went to work at a few different jobs before finally settling down at Skin Deep Tattoo. DeAnn is the assistant manager and we’ve always gotten along extremely well. She’s in her sixties, busts her ass, and thoroughly enjoys finding out every single thing she can about what goes on here, and relaying it all to me when she can. I could really care less who’s banging who or which cook wants which waitress. As long as everyone shows up and does their job—that’s what’s important. DeAnn has been working here for over thirty years and she’s the greatest help I could ask for. We make sure shit gets done and I reward my employees well. We often have small parties after work as a reward for all their hard work.

  Everyone here makes such a good team, which not only makes me look good, but makes my job a hell of a lot easier. I have this place practically running itself.