When Rebel Ink asked me to write about my most disastrous date, my first thought was OMG! How am I going to do this?
I’ve been married for 22 years and it took us seven years to get there so I haven’t been on a date in 29 years.
After thinking about it for a while I was faced with a different dilemma; do I tell you about the date who showed up covered in hickeys, or, the one I caught on the phone making a date for later that night?
Oh wait! It was the same date! So, I figured this one qualified as a disaster.
I’d been seeing—We’ll call him…Mr. X, just in case—for about three months. It was a weekend and he’d asked me if I would like to go to a BBQ at his Aunt’s place. Wow! He wanted me to meet his family.
I said yes and he came to pick me up. I should have closed the door in his face when I noticed the purple blotches covering his neck, but I’ll use one of my favorite excuses here…I was young.
We drove the hour to his Aunts, and I honestly can’t remember what we talked about. The party was fun. The food was good, and all his relatives were nice to me, so nice I almost forgot about his neck.
I was planning to forgive him (young here) until…later, when I was looking for Mr. X. one of his family members told me he’d gone to the garage to look at his Aunts new car. They showed me the way and told me to go look too. I entered the garage just in time to hear his murmurs. ‘Okay. Yeah, I’ll pick you up about nine…me too, can’t wait…’
I slipped back into the house and didn’t say a word about it. If I’d had a car, or could have walked home I would have. But being an hour away I was forced to finish the party and let him take me home.
When we got home he thanked me for going, he had a nice time, blah blah blah…He’d call me tomorrow. Seriously?
I refused to answer his calls and it didn’t take him long to give up. I wasn’t sure he knew I’d caught him until he told a mutual friend if he hadn’t made the date for later that night we’d still be together.
Now, If this were a Romance Novel I was working on , Mr. X would have a string of women that just didn’t work for him because he was still in love with the heroine whom he accidently runs into years later….
But alas, I’m not writing this one…it was for real.
Any one wondering what happened to Mr. X? I heard he married the girl he was juggling me with.
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It always happened in the dark. Kari Stewart bolted upright, blinking. She shoved her fingers in her ears trying to drown out the familiar yelling.
Not again. The eight–year-old climbed down to her younger sister on the bottom bunk.
It was a stifling July night in rural Kansas. The small house didn’t have the luxury of an air conditioner, so the girls sweated under the blanket Kari had pulled over their heads. In the glow from the flashlight she kept hidden under her pillow, Kari soothed her five-year-old half sister, Marie Milton—it was what a big sister was supposed to do.
Tonight the screaming was worse than usual, so with her arms wrapped around Marie, Kari whispered the Twenty-Third Psalm.
“I…I’m scared Kari.”
“Shhh,” Kari squeezed Marie’s shoulder. “It will be over soon.”
Huddled under the makeshift tent, Marie clinging tightly to her, Kari closed her eyes and prayed for the fighting to stop.
“It’s never been this bad,” Marie sniffed as glass shattered while their mother screamed words not intended for children’s ears.
The slamming of the front door had Marie letting out a high pitched yelp. Kari had just managed to cover Marie’s mouth when the bedroom door crashed open.
Towering over them was a man both girls feared more than anything else in life.
He stood inches from them, illuminated by the eerie glow from the blanket-covered flashlight Kari saw the shotgun held at his side.
A squeal escaped from her quivering lips before she begged, “Pleeease God… oh please help us…”
“SHUT UP!” He shouted while making his way to the tiny bedroom window.
Kari silently thanked God for the wail of sirens coming towards them. He had sent them to save her and Marie.
After what seemed like forever, someone was pounding on the front door. When the shouting began, Kari held her breath.
The butt of the shotgun slammed against the bedroom window; glass shards rained over the blanket.
“I’ve got a gun,” he yelled. “Stay out or I’ll kill her fucking brats! I swear to God I’ll kill them.”
As he spun around to face the girls, his eyes caught in the glow from the police car lights streaming through the broken window—devil’s eyes eyes that would forever burn in her nightmares.
He placed the shotgun’s barrel against the side of her head. At the distinct cocking sound, She screamed.
“Easy,” he whispered taking hold of her arm. “Take it slow,” he added while helping her sit up. “Do you need a doctor?”
“You took a nasty spill from the chair. Are you hurt?”
His voice was as sexy as his face, causing her heart to gallop. Maybe I do need a doctor? “What…what happened,” she managed.
The dark haired sex God smiled brilliantly. “You just hit the jackpot.”
Jenny looked at the machine for the first time since falling off the stool. Lights were still flashing and the silly carnival tune surrounded them.
“Do these machines always flash such bright lights,” Jenny asked sex God. “For a minute I thought I’d been struck by lightning. I guess the shock of winning made me faint?” She looked away from the machine and spots still swam in front of her. The air seemed to crackle with electricity from the machine and Jenny thought maybe that was why she suddenly wanted to jump the stranger still holding onto her arm?
Looking directly at him Jenny demanded, “Who are you?”
He leaned in so that his lips were mere inches from her ear. “I’m your prize,” he whispered.