Twisted Obsession

Chapter 4 A Distraction

CHAPTER 4

A DISTRACTION

Liz rushed inside her apartment straight from the cafe, her mind still on Domenic and his prison release. She wouldn’t let him control her life and was not entirely sure that Gabriella was telling her the truth. How did she know without a doubt that Gabriella was not conspiring to hurt her, as ordered by Domenic? Trying to get her guard down and to trust Gabriella, then —BAM!—she would be vulnerable in his hands. No, she had to play it safe and stay away from this woman, whoever she was. Maybe Marco could do a background check on her.

She planned to focus on the life she’d built, and that included her rewarding job, network of friends, her love of cooking, and going to the gym. What more could she want?

Liz picked up an apple from the fruit bowl on the kitchen table and munched away. She headed outside on to her private balcony, her bare feet pressing against the cold tiles as she looked over the street view of Altona.

Liz’s parents had helped her buy this apartment as she couldn’t afford much on her social worker salary. Not that she didn’t get by, but hopefully she’d one day be promoted to a supervisory role that paid somewhat more than she was getting now.

The sound of the phone distracted her. She stepped back inside the apartment and picked up her phone from the coffee table. The screen displayed Marco. “Hello there.”

“Hi, Liz. How are you doing?”

She took a seat on the couch. “I’m better now, thanks to you guys. How’s Bella?”

“She’s great, but she wanted me to get onto this straight away to give you time to process things too.”

“What did you find out?”

“Domenic’s been instructed to stay away from you, or you can put out an intervention order. I was hoping they’d put him on a supervision order, but no such luck.”

“You mean he’s free to do whatever he likes without being supervised or monitored?”

“Hmmm. They believe he is a changed man and served his maximum penalty, so he’s been released without having strict conditions to follow. I’m sorry, Liz, but he shouldn’t come near you. He knows he can go straight back to prison if he does.”

Liz gripped the phone so hard she thought her hand might break. “But I don’t think he’ll ever change. He’s pure evil, Marco.” She calmed her breathing. “And he had a drug and escort business before prison. I assume they’ve been shut down?”

“I checked known escort and drug businesses he ran, and they were shut down, Liz. And no known associations with that kind of business now. But we’ll keep an eye on that.” He paused. “Bella told me your story, and I want you to know that I’ll be looking out for you. I’ll make sure he never hurts you again.”

“Thanks, Marco, but you can’t monitor me twenty-four-seven, and I wouldn’t expect that. I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself.”

He scoffed. “I’ve heard that before.” Marco was obviously implying Bella. “What I would suggest is taking a few self-defence classes. It’ll help you feel more confident and give you added strength.”

“I’ll think about it. Thanks, Marco.”

“No problem, but if there’s anything you need don’t hesitate to call.”

She remembered Gabriella. “Marco, wait. I need you to check out something.”

“Sure. What is it?” Liz recounted her encounter with Gabriella, a part of her hoping she wasn’t Domenic’s daughter. “I’ll look into it and get back to you. But surely you would’ve found out during the trial that he had a daughter?”

“I was too gutless to read the court transcripts, so I don’t know who else testified or whether any family members spoke about him.”

“Understandable, Liz. You were only seventeen, far too young to deal with that.”

“Thanks, Marco.”

Liz hung up with a heavy heart. The bastard’s going to be released without supervision and no strict rules to follow. He is not a changed man. He could never change.

Liz walked over to her bedroom and contemplated changing her clothes. Her room was her sanctuary, with its bare walls, white timber bed, white dresser with four large drawers, and a matching bedside table. The gentle light coming in through the bay windows gave her comfort. She debated in her mind whether to go to the nightclub—one of her favourite things to do. What if Domenic was out there? She might be putting herself at risk. But if he came near her, he knew he could go back to prison.

Liz paced the floor and looked through her window, but nobody was down below. She was being paranoid. It would be too soon for Domenic to show his face as he’d only recently been released. He’d need time to settle into a place, and maybe he’d moved in with his parents. Not that she’d ever met them.

She shook her head, fighting against his control over her. For ten whole damn years she had dealt with Domenic’s abuse, and damn if she’d let him continue to control her life. He had controlled her for far too long. No more. She would be in a public place with plenty of people around, and she’d keep a bottle of perfume in her bag. Socialising was good for her spirit and she needed this.

Liz sat on her white quilt cover and had made her decision. She put on a tight-fitting black satin dress with matching red stiletto shoes. Then she put on dangly earrings, added natural-looking make-up, and was out the door. She needed to get out of this place, so clubbing it was.

Being a Friday the queue to the nightclub was long, so she waited for at least half an hour before gaining entry. The lounge area had a soft-glowing look. She walked up to the bar and ordered a dry margarita from the burly bartender. The buzz of the crowd surrounded her, giving her that adrenaline high as she licked her lips, desperately needing a drink to forget her current problem. Acrid smells and strong perfumes permeated the air. Couches were on either side of the lounge close to the dance floor. Lights suspended from the ceiling spotlighted a small stage featuring an all-male band playing soft jazz.

“Here you go, love,” said the bartender with a wink.

“Thanks,” she said. She stood up from the bar and searched for a man to distract her from her pain. A man with a beard and a square jaw stared at Liz with hunger in his eyes until a woman grabbed him by the arm. Oh damn! He’s taken.

Heading closer to the dance floor, Liz found a few more potentials she could enjoy the night with. Mostly brunettes and a couple of blonde men, although some were with their partners. Taking a few more steps, she spotted another good-looking man sporting a moustache, talking to another guy near the couches. But he didn’t even look her way, so she turned back to the bar. She might have better luck, sitting alone at the bar. Taking a deep breath, she held on to her martini glass and set it opposite her on the counter. It was still early in the night and she had time to find someone to take her mind off things. She refused to let Domenic spoil her night. He was history and she’d moved on in some ways.

Liz wrapped her manicured nails around the glass and downed the margarita in two easy swallows. She needed more alcohol to wash away her dark thoughts and have fun tonight.

“Woh, take it easy there lady,” said a strange man with a moustache and wavy shoulder-length hair. He had black eyes and stubble, and appeared harmless enough. This was the guy she’d just seen, the one who hadn’t glanced her way. He was even better looking close up.

Her mind travelled to Domenic and how he always had to dominate her, but now, she’d taken back control. No longer would she let men rule her. She’d take control with this man. “I think you talk too much,” said Liz.

The man’s eyes widened. “And what did you have in mind?” His eyes were inviting something more.

She grabbed his hand and moved off the stool. She led him towards an empty couch and pushed him beside her, his body close to hers. “Get over here.”

The man tilted his head, his eyes dilated and his mouth parting with desire. “My pleasure.” He leaned in and pressed his lips over hers, their tongues flicking in and out as Liz forgot her troubles. She pressed her body hard against his, touching his manhood as he massaged her breasts. His fingers found her dress and trailed down her leg as he probed in between her thighs with rough fingers. She moaned with desire, but when he was pulling down her panties, she grabbed his hands and pulled them away.

Liz moved off him, her desire spent but his eyes still burned with desire for her. Oh why did she keep doing this? She had gone too far with the man when all she wanted was kissing for fun. Nothing more.

He hid his disappointment. “Can I get your number? I don’t even know your name.”

Liz smiled. “I don’t think so. Gotta go.” She rose from the couch, spotting a look of shock on his face and ignoring a couple staring wide-eyed at them.

The man caught up to her and tapped her on the shoulder. “Listen, let’s take a seat back there and talk. Nothing more.” Her feet remained frozen. Why had she even come? “Listen, I don’t know about you, but I can tell something’s bothering you. And I know I’m just a stranger but sometimes it helps to talk things out.” He put out his hands. “This is a public place and we can have a quiet chat on the couch. I promise to keep my hands to myself. No expectations.”

Liz nodded and followed him back to the couch. She sat beside him but kept a wider distance between them. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I get like that sometimes. I try to distract myself when I know it’s wrong. Whenever something triggers me, I tend to get wild.” Not that she slept around with strangers, but she’d had a few superficial relationships with men she’d met in clubs.

“So what happened?”

“I really can’t talk about it,” said Liz. “Why don’t we talk about something else, like movies or books.”

He beamed. “Sounds like a plan. You can start.”

Liz thought about that initial control over men, but why did she always feel empty afterwards? In spite of not wanting a man to traumatise her again, why did she give herself that illusion of control again and again?