Helpless (13 page)

             
The dark hair makes me look paler.  I feel angry.  I decide I will go slightly punk or gothic in the clothes I will wear, so I can really become someone else tonight.  Not wild, if someone recognizes me and snaps pics, I don’t want it to look like I have gone off the deep end; that could hurt my career.  But enough to look edgy, to look like a bad-ass girl.

             
I totter out of my apartment in chunky black pumps, black and orange clothes that look pretty good with my new dark hair.  It is already late, so I hail a cab.  Besides, the club is only a few blocks away, but I don’t want to break an ankle on the walk over there.  These are shoes where optimum use is having a boyfriend to hang onto while walking in them. 

             
The club door is black with swirling dots and colors.  The bouncer is huge.  I think his arms are as thick as my little waist.  I can hear the music already and the door is closed.  My looks get me waved right to the front of the line.  I give Mr. Bouncer the name of the guy I am here to meet.  He says he reserved a table in the VIP section and tells me to hold on. 

             
He comes back in a second with a waitress who is going to show me to the table.  That’s good because the place is so packed I really can’t walk, let alone look for someone who I have only seen a computer picture of.  The VIP section is a raised section, not exactly another level but about half a floor above the dance and bar area.  It is roped off and I have to go up three steps.  The waitress opens the ropes for me and closes it once I start up the steps.  There are a dozen tables.  Mine has six guys who have already started their party.

             
“Hi, I’m Leah.”  I stand with my hands on my hips.

             
“I’m the birthday boy, Sven!”  An attractive blonde guy stands up and hugs me.  Ok, a little forward, but I can handle it.

             
“You look hot in black, honey,” says one of the other guys.  I give him a playful look.

             
“Whose buying my drinks?”  I smile at Sven.  He may be the birthday boy, but I am here to be pampered.  And that doesn’t include me buying my own drinks!

             
“What’s your poison, love?”  Yet another guy at the table leans forward and speaks up.  This one must be the money bags.  He is pulling out a wad of cash.

             
“Cranberry martini.”

             
“Coming up.”  He jumps up and disappears in the crush of people, vaguely headed toward the bar. 

             
The music is so loud we have had to shout to be heard and are standing clustered together or sitting right at the table.  I don’t care.  Though I usually like a guy to talk to keep my mind occupied, the music is so loud and the crush and movement of people trying to dance is so chaotic, that my mind is occupied by just observing.

             
“Here you are.”  Money Bags hands me my pretty red drink.  I notice he sits another red drink on the table.  He sees me looking.  “It takes too long to swim through the dance floor.”  He is shouting.  “I have you all taken care of for the next one.”  He gives me a wink.  Blah.  But he is right and now at least I won’t have to wait for my next drink.

             
The guys are knocking back shots and chasing them with beer.  I sit and they chat and laugh.  They all make sure pictures are taken with me so they can show them off to other friends. 

             
I sit on Sven’s lap and lean in for a sloppy, tongue heavy kiss.  It is really gross.  That’s my reaction to it.  Nothing warm and lovely like a kiss with someone I love.  But that is behind me now.  I’ll slobber over this fool because it is making him hard and he is bragging about me to his friend sitting right beside him.  Friend leans forward and pulls my head over to him and slathers a tongue along my lips.  Gross.  Then he shoves it in my mouth and I tongue him right back.  This is a show for every table around us.  I even hear some cheering and clapping. 

             
Whatever.  I reach for my second martini.  I realize I have finished it in a few gulps.  Must have been washing out the bad taste from two slimy tongues.  We drink and laugh and take pictures all night.  I am walked to the dance floor by each guy there and paraded around on their arm.  Finally I can barely see straight and Sven is telling everyone good bye and grabs my arm.  I stumble along behind him as we move across the crowded dance floor. 

             
Lights pulse, the sound is pounding deep into my bones.  I can’t see well, it is dark and then the strobe lights wash everything out with neon pink and then it is dark again.  But we manage to find the door and pop out into the night air.  Or early morning air in this case.

             
I suck in some fresh city air.  

             
Sven has just waived a cab over, I bend to get in and feel him push me forward and he climbs in after me. 

             
“Just what the hell do you think you are doing?” 

             
I almost scream this I am so drunk that I have no real concept of my volume and have also just spent hours in that madhouse of a dance club. 

             
“What the hell do you think?  We’re going home to top off my birthday.”

             
“You plan to fuck me?”  I ask incredulous and now I really have the attention of the cab driver. 

             
“That’s the idea of the whole night sweetie.”  Sven is frowning now and getting angry.

             
I can top anyone in angry.  I slide around in the seat so I am facing him, jerking my arm away from him.  I do this so hard that my arm hits against my window behind my head.  I don’t even feel it.

             
“What about
spending the night in a club so I can show off a pretty girl
has to do with fucking?”  Again, blame it on the drinks because I am not filtering anything I am saying and the volume is going up again. 

             
“That’s right.  That is implied.  After all, you wanted me to pay for everything.”

             
“Guys always pay for everything when they spend time with me.”

             
“So you are a whore, see?  Now shut up, you are ruining my mood.”             

             
“GET THE FUCK OUT THIS CAB!”  I scream and start to hit him.  The cab lurches over to the curb and the driver jumps out and pulls Sven’s door open and drags him away from my flying hands.  Sven had been caught so off guard that he hadn’t even had time to think about punching me back.  The cabbie pushed him down the sidewalk a few steps and gets back in.

             
He turns around and asks me if I am ok.  I smooth my hair and clear my throat.  “Yes.  And thank you.  I had no idea he was going to do that.”  The cabbie shakes his head, but he is looking in the mirror at eyes the color of a dark forest and my charming smile.  He is helpless and says no more.  He drives me home. 

             
My head is swimming.  My eyes are crossed.  I can feel myself holding on to the walls of the elevator so I don’t fall flat on my face.  As the doors slide open I stumble out and weave toward my apartment door. 

             
There is someone standing there!

             
I try to focus my eyes but that makes me stumbled backwards and I bump hard against the closed elevator doors. 

             
“Shit, Natalie.  Let me help you.”  Ah that lovely voice.  No, not lovely anymore.  I hate him now.

             
“Get the fuck away from me,” I slur with no dignity.  I am still wound up from the Sven incident and in no mood to be ladylike.

             
“Nat, you’re not yourself.  Let me help you inside.”  He grabs my arm and I can feel the pull.  The only thing I could do to break his hold in my weakened state is sit down, and I do want to get inside and pour some ice water down my throat.

             
I don’t even get to fumble with my keys; Jason takes them from me and opens the door.  Still holding my arm, he guides me inside and to the sofa.  As I plop down like a doll, I remember I want something cold to drink. 

             
“Ssm water,” I say and start to get up.

             
“I’ll get it for you.  Just sit there and rest.”

             
I watch my big strong used-to-love-him guy walk to my kitchen.  Seeing him in my apartment again has made me suddenly sad.  I feel hot tears slide down my cheeks.  I hiccup for air.  I blink my eyes and stretch my eyes wide, hoping something will help me act all pulled together before he comes back.

             
I meekly take the glass from his hand and start to slurp down the cold water.  I feel it freezing my throat on the way down.  I am blissful in this feeling when Jason makes a choking sound.  He just noticed the tears on my cheeks that I forgot to wipe off.

             
“Oh Nat.  Nat, please forgive me!  It went too far too fast; then I didn’t know what to say.   Please, please believe me, I wasn’t faking any of it!  I swear.  I gave your father back all his money right away, before you found out.  The only thing I used was the rental car, it was paid up for six months, so I just figured I’d run that out.”  He is starting to babble now.

             
I am still sad.  The words he is saying are not really sinking in.  All I know is he is apologizing and I know I miss him and he lied to me and I can’t trust him and I am sad and I miss him and I hate him and I don’t know how to be happy without him.

             
Now I have worked myself up so badly I start to scream at him.  “Get out!  Leave me alone, you liar.”  I point toward my door.

             
“Let me tell you the whole story, please. You see I took the job, I was only supposed to make sure you were not getting into trouble like tonight.  Only supposed to see you once a week and then …”

             
My brain is not processing this as fast as he is talking.  I got to ‘took the job’ and got furious.  “I know I was just a job to you – and the job is O V E R — so get the hell out of my house!”  I wildly look around for something to throw.  If he is going to work for my dad, I can treat him like my dad.  As my hand curls around a vase, Jason realizes what I intend.

             
“Wait!  Wait!  Nat, I’ll leave.  Put it down, don’t hurt yourself, you’ll have glass all over.  You won’ t let me explain?”

             
“NO!  OUT!  I hate liars!  I hate
you
.  I thought you were different.”  I brandish the vase.

             
“Ok, but I’ll be right outside.  You aren’t in good shape, if you need anything tonight; I’ll be right outside and I’ll do anything for you.”

             
I glare at him.  He leaves.

* * *

              Jason shut the door.  He shook his head and almost walked back in.  He was picturing the tears in Natalie’s eyes.  He knew she didn’t hate him like she was screaming.  She was lashing out in hurt and masking it with anger.  He knew that she went out and got stinking drunk because she was hurt over what she found out.

             
He sat down right outside her door.  Propping his back against it.  She hadn’t locked it yet, and he was planning to sit out here like a guard dog until morning.  Guilt was consuming him.  He wished he could think of some way to make this all better. 

             
He really had planned just to keep an eye on her, like her father wanted.  Just to call Heath if his daughter was in a situation that she may need to be pulled out of.  Just to be a sane friend and maybe ease her away from the drugs and dates with strange men which Heath felt she was having sex with, despite her denials.  But he had slowly fallen in love with her.  He knew Heath had only told him his side of the family story, and there was so much more that had hurt Nat when she was small.  He had been pulling that information out of her in small bits at a time. 

             
Small bits that she could process and he was also teaching her how to look at a painful memory and push it aside and let the subconscious work on it so it was easier to deal with the next time it came up.  Not denial—but a way to process just a little at a time until a person could look back and see how much they had accomplished when they hardly knew they were working on a problem.

             
Jason knew there was so much more to the trauma she had experienced as a child.  He knew if he could get all the information from her, he could help her recover even faster.  He had been getting more and more details from her.  She was able to look a little deeper each time they talked about her childhood.

             
But now, it was all ruined.  He couldn’t explain, he couldn’t convince her if she wouldn’t even listen to him.  Now she seemed worse off than before she met him, and that was something that was eating him up inside.  He had been served with a restraining order so he had not been able to visit her in the hospital.  That was thanks to Heath.  Jason knew she would never trust and confide in her father about her painful childhood.  He might have been her only hope.  There was no one else who could even keep an eye on her.  And with her Narcissistic disorder, there is no way she would admit she had a problem and seek out other professional help.