If she had never had a full understanding of the kind of man she was married to, she did now. He hadn’t changed a bit. Even in the wake of great tragedy, his sickness continued to prevail.
Damita got up from where she was sitting and walked toward him, unafraid.
Neal looked at Damita’s wild-eyed expression. “Have you completely lost your mind?” he asked.
“No, Neal, I’ve finally gotten my mind back. I don’t know how I could have ever allowed a loser like you to dictate what my existence would be like.”
For a moment, he was so stunned by her defiance he didn’t react and simply listened.
“I don’t need to think about things like a job or plans. Those things are not the most important to me. They never were. You’re the one that lives by your possessions, not me. I’ve got love in my life. I’ve got a mother and friends who are probably waiting to hear from me as we speak. What have you got? You had me, but you lost that a long time ago. Now you have nothing. And, as far as the monetary comforts I believe you were insinuating you would either offer or withdraw based on your whims and desire to control, I can even have that if I want to. I’ll be fine, especially when they find out that you were the one that had me attacked. I can’t believe there was a time when I actually felt sorry for you. I hope you rot in hell!”
As Damita turned and walked away, Neal dove at her, taking her down to the floor. This time, however, Damita fought back. She used everything she had to make up for the fact that Neal was bigger and crazier than she was. She picked things up and hit him over the head. She bit him. Almost every time he tried to deliver a blow, she came up with a way to deflect it. It was as if she was suddenly endowed with some kind of Herculean strength.
She dug her fingers into his eyes and struggled to her feet, so that she could meet him on more even ground. Once on her feet, she ran toward the bedroom. This time, however, she was not going to cower in the closet or lock herself in the bathroom. Neal caught up with her and tried to throw her down on the bed. He was successful and landed the full weight of his body on top of her. She was sickened to see that all of this had actually aroused him. He pulled at her and hit her and then put his fingers around her throat. She clawed at his neck, his face, anything her hands would reach. She began to think he might actually kill her this time, despite her best efforts. He was strangling her and she felt like a black veil was slowly coming down over her eyes. She knew this was it. Just when she thought she would never see the light of day again, all of her struggling and fighting paid off. She dug her nails into him long enough for her to gain control. She shoved him as hard as she could off of her and when he was laying face up on the floor, at the side of the bed she stomped on his groin area with all the force she could muster. She laughed when he made a sound that, to her, sounded like a yelping dog.
She was exhausted from fighting but proud of herself. She went into the living room and continued to watch the news. He lay there for quite some time, curled up on the floor, writhing in pain.
Damita kept yelling things into the bedroom.
“Not so much fun being the one that gets their ass beat, huh?”
“Carmella was so right. You’re nothing but a pussy!”
“How’s your dick feel?” she asked.
“I don’t think you’ll be raping anybody with that little noodle for quite some time,” she said, chuckling.
Eventually, she stopped yelling at him and calmed down. For the first time since they had married she wasn’t afraid of him.
Neal was starting to show signs of being ready to stand and recover.
Although Damita was no longer afraid of him, that didn’t mean that she could trust him. She sat steadfast and ready.
“Get out of my apartment!” he yelled, once he was up.
“You mean my apartment?”
“Nothing in here belongs to you,” he said.
“You are quite mistaken, Mr. Westman. Everything in here will belong to me eventually, including this apartment. You’ll be lucky if you can afford a room when I’m done with you; that is if you’re not in prison, getting butt fucked. Have you forgotten you’re a rapist, an abuser, maybe even a murderer? You better be nice to me, you bastard, or I won’t even leave you with the clothes on your back. It will give me such pleasure to move my new man into this place and think of you every time I make love to him.”
Damita knew the last comment was too much, but she was finally starting to feel her anger. She didn’t mean much of what she was saying, but she so wanted to push his buttons. She felt he more than deserved it.
The moment she mentioned another man, Neal walked quickly into the living room and dove at the chair she was sitting in. Her and the chair landed face down and he continued what he had started. His fingers once again went around her throat and she fought him with all that she had. This time, however, she was in a bad position and she was sure the outcome would not be the same. Just when she thought it was all over, the ironing board fell and the iron that was on top of it landed right next to her. She picked up the iron and crashed it down on top of Neal’s head. When he released her, she scrambled from under him and came to a sitting position on the floor.
For a while Neal was prone and posed no threat. As soon as he came to a sitting position, she hit Neal dead center at the top of his head again. He fell to the floor and she continued to hit him, over and over again. Neal tried to block her blows, but his efforts were useless. She continued to bludgeon him with the iron, ignoring the blood that sprayed and attached to her clothing, the floor and the surrounding walls. It wasn’t until her arm began to hurt that she stopped. When she recovered and saw what she had done, she sobbed into her hands and as quickly as she started, she abruptly stopped. She reached down and caressed Neal’s blood-stained cheek. She whispered close to his ear.
“ ’Til death us do part,” she said.