Fugue State by M.C. Adams Page A

metal struck her left temple. Jamar and Kensie tied ropes around her neck and limbs. A switchblade knife appeared in Jamar’s hand, and he began mutilating Alexa’s pelvis.
    Kensie cheered Jamar on from the sidelines. “Do it to her, Jamar. Make that skinny bitch bleed.” Kensie’s eyes burned yellow like Jamar’s.
    Alexa awoke with a jolt, startling Joe so that he swerved to the side of the road and hit the curb, hard.
    “You okay?” he questioned.
    “Yeah. I’m fine,” she lied. Joe shook his head. She ignored what she feared was an attempt to talk about her feelings.
    When they arrived at her hotel, instead of saying goodbye, Joe said, “Someday you’ll learn to trust people again, Alexa.” His words rang in her ears like a prophecy.
    “I trust you, Joe.” She flashed a mouthful of pearls and reached over and gave his hand a squeeze.
    Joe watched her slip out of the truck and enter the hotel. He shook his head while continuing the discussion he wanted to have with her out loud. “Fine, my ass. Why walk around telling the world you’re fine when you want to tell everyone to go to Hell? Fine means leave me alone and let me sulk in my misery. I’ve been there.” His eyes focused on the revolving door she’d entered. “You must have pushed everyone who matters out your life if you’re celebrating tonight with an old man like me. No use trying to talk sense into you. Lord.” The sound of the stranger’s name from his lips startled him. He thought about his word choice before he continued. “Lord, help that woman face her demons.” Before he could utter an Amen , a large whiskey belch escaped his lips, and he drove away.

CHAPTER 12
    O nce upstairs in her hotel suite, Alexa plopped onto her king-size bed, spread her limbs across the bedding, and thought about her nightmare. Kensie had been one of Jamar’s victims, same as her; yet, Alexa couldn’t control the resentment she felt for Kensie. That woman had so many opportunities to fight Jamar, kill Jamar, or have Jamar arrested; yet she did nothing . Free on the streets, Jamar could hurt whomever he chose.
    That coward. If only she’d acted differently, I never would have been attacked. Alexa’s rage turned to hatred as her thoughts materialized into words. “That coward! She kept her pain hidden and secret, while I had mine splattered across newspapers nationwide.” Alexa doubted Kensie’s life fell apart the way hers had.
    Then she realized — that was what everyone had wanted from her all along. Her friends and family wanted her to be more like Kensie Phillips. They all wanted me to just let the rape happen. They wanted me to stay silent and be a victim, and accept my fate without fighting back. To say nothing, like it never happened.
    Alexa jolted upright and let the thought permeate her mind fully. No. She couldn’t accept it. Every cell in her body rejected the notion that giving up was ever an option. In her mind, only fighting back made sense. There were no options. From the moment Jamar attacked her, she knew only one of them would walk away that night. The other would be dead. It didn’t matter the consequences that followed.
    “I’m glad I am the one who walked away,” she whispered to herself. Then she downed her usual concoction of melatonin and Benadryl, and topped it off with a vodka soda. She slept for three hours before a nightmare disturbed her rest. It was another blur of the night of the incident. She did as Britt had advised and replayed the nightmare time and again, each time with herself as the victor. She did this until she was calm enough to drift back to sleep for three more peaceful hours.
    The next time she opened her eyes, warm rays of the morning sun greeted her. My first day of freedom. After ordering a large glass of orange juice from room service, she celebrated with a twelve-mile run through downtown Austin. After nine miles of running in a daze, twinges of pain in her left knee slowed her pace to a