On the Edge (The Grange Complex Book 1) novel Chapter 23

“Bugs, cockroaches…”

I was staring at him, wondering what the hell he was talking about. He pointed at the walls and ceiling like there was something really there, crawling up and down. I swallowed hard. He was hallucinating. I didn’t know how to act, so I stepped inside and switched off the water.

“Dexter, hun, come on let’s get you out of here,” I finally said and touched him. His wet skin was burning. I needed to stay calm, but deep down I was freaking out, wondering if he had finally lost it. Eventually he listened to me and stepped out of the shower, shaking wildly. He kept mumbling that there were insects everywhere, on his legs and arms, and he tried to flick them off. I closed the shower doors and put the towel around him. In the bedroom I realised that it was shortly after five in the morning. Dexter didn’t have to be at work until eight. This was getting stranger with every passing second.

It took a few minutes for him to stop talking. I knew that I had some Valium in my apartment, so I told him to go to his apartment and get dressed and went to fetch it.

I began throwing stuff around on the floor, searching through my bag frantically. It took me ten minutes to finally find it. When I barged into his apartment, he was already in his suit.

“What are you doing?” I asked, bewildered.

He shrugged his shoulders, adjusting his tie in the mirror. The pupils in his eyes were still dilated, but he looked more like himself. “Getting ready, what does it look like?” he snapped.

“Dexter… you can’t, we have to go to the hospital,” I stuttered, pushing him down on the bed.

Was it possible that he was pretending the incident in the shower didn’t happen? He seemed annoyed.

“I’m fine, Sasha; I freaked out. Don’t stress. I thought that I was seeing things,” he said calmly.

I wasn’t buying this. “No, Dex. You were convinced that there were bugs everywhere. You can’t go to work; you need to see a doctor. This isn’t normal,” I insisted.

He shoved me away and stormed back to the living room. “Don’t be fucking stupid. I’m going to the office.”

“Dexter, it’s five a.m.,” I shouted.

He glanced at his watch, then at me again. “Bullshit, you fiddled with the time,” he growled.

I opened my mouth to say something, but no sound came out. There was something very wrong with him, with this whole situation. He sounded like he thought it was me that was acting crazy. I needed to call his mother or someone from the family.

“No, Dex, I haven’t. The noise from the bathroom woke me up and you were inside—”

“Sasha, I don’t have time for this bullshit. I need to go. Just lock the door behind you. I’m fucking fine,” he snapped and stormed out of the apartment.

I couldn’t catch my breath. My panic was rising. Now I was going to go through a meltdown because of him. I thought that he would realise that it was only just after five a.m. and come back. He didn’t, so after an hour I started looking through his drawers. All his numbers were listed on his landline handset. I found the contact that said Mum and exhaled with relief. I didn’t want to call her just yet, but I was on the verge of losing my sanity, so I saved it to my mobile just in case.

I locked the door and went back to my own apartment. At six fifteen I had a phone call from the agency asking me to do a day shift instead of night. I agreed, not even knowing why.

I knew Dexter was very moody—it was part of his bad-boy appeal—but I’ve never seen him like that, almost psychotic. It was the first time and I didn’t want to pretend that it hadn’t happened. I went to work an hour later, knowing that this was very serious. I was worried—really, really worried.

Dexter

“Sally, get me another coffee,” I barked at my secretary. I was pissed off with the world and convinced that Sasha was playing games with me. She must have changed the time on my iPhone and the clock in the kitchen, but when I got to the office, no one was there. Something clicked then. But I wasn’t crazy; I had just lost track of time.

“Here you go, Mr. Tyndall,” she said, placing a fresh cup on my desk.

I managed to get the number for pest control. There were bugs in her bathroom; how could she not see them?

The morning meeting didn’t go too well either. Robert and the others were staring at me, bewildered, as I sped through my presentation. It was only nine fifteen when I finished, and it seemed that they hadn’t been keeping up with me.

“Dex, buddy, are you sure that you’re all right?” Robert asked straight afterwards.

“I’m great, why?”

“You were going too fast; the clients won’t be able to follow you. Maybe you should slow down.”

“It was slow, Rob,” I muttered.

He laughed and patted me on the back. “No it wasn’t, mate. You were going like two hundred words per minute. Just take your time next time.”

This guy had no idea what he was talking about. My thoughts were racing frenetically when I went into my office. I was taking the pills that the neurologist had prescribed, but they didn’t seem to have any effect on me anymore. I needed some weed, but I still had a whole day to get through. Was Sasha working tonight?

I stayed in and asked Sally to fetch me lunch. By the time the day was over I had completed twenty reports, responded to over a hundred e-mails, and planned three new projects. I deserved a reward, so on the way home I went shopping. I had this urge to spend shitloads of money today. I went into the Armani store and saw a plain blue t-shirt, so I bought the same one in every colour that was available. Then I bought twenty new ties and a couple of expensive watches. 

Sasha wasn’t at home when I got back, so I sat down and rolled up a joint. I didn’t want to move, but I was horny. Maybe it was time to call someone else—a new girl—but no, Sasha wouldn’t like that.

I didn’t know what time it was, but I stayed up until three o’clock in the morning. Sasha came back around eight am. She’d had a phone call in the morning to do a day shift in the hospital.

“Dexter, we need to talk about this morning. You thought that you were seeing things,” she said softly, starting in again. This woman was relentless.

“There is nothing wrong with me Barbie. I’m good, so stop worrying about me. Let’s fuck. I really want to fuck right now,” I told her.

“I’m knackered. And sex isn’t a solution for everything.”

We fought then, so I told her to get lost. It was the same thing all over again, but I didn’t want to listen to her banging on about my health. I had never felt better in my life and I was filled with endless energy. I didn’t understand why she needed so much sleep.

In the evening there was a knock on my door. She was dressed in her robe and it looked like she had just woken up.

“Missed me already?” I asked, leaning out of the door.

“No, I came to check on you.”

“I’m fine and ready to fuck you again,” I said and wrapped my arms around her waist, lifting her up. 

“Dexter, if you want to keep me happy, then let me take you to the hospital. You need to see a specialist.”

I put her down and dragged my hand over my head. “I’m done talking about this, Sasha. For fuck’s sake, why can’t you let it go? We have been through this already!”

“Because you are acting strange, seeing things, like you have psychosis, Dexter. Using sex as a distraction—”

“Shut up, just shut up and leave me alone! Come back when you get your shit together and want to have sex!” I shouted at her, cutting her off. Then I slammed the door in her face. I heard her door close moments later. That night I stayed up again, feeling angry and frustrated. She didn’t get it that I had lived with this shit since I could remember. No one had ever found anything wrong with me and I felt great right now, so what was the problem?