by Amy Rachiele
Both Kara and Brian turn to see a guy leaning against the door jam in a relaxed pose. His body language exudes the exact opposite. He’s nervous. A telltale tick plays with his left eye in an uncontrollable wink.
“Shut up, Mouse!” Brian yells back angrily. What a fitting name, Kara thinks. “She’ll be out in a minute!”
Brian motions for her to do her business. Kara complies. She drags her feet over to the row of sinks and picks the cleanest one. She pushes the pump on the archaic soap dispenser and nothing comes out.
“Try this one,” Brian suggests directing her to the next one. Kara manages to get some soap and turns on the water. She yelps immediately as the water hits her wrists. Blood pools in the sink bowl, and she can’t control the tears that come with the pain. “Shit...” Brian curses. He grabs a bunch of paper towels and gently dabs her sores.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Mouse scolds cruelly.
“Get the hell out of here, will ya?” Brian retorts forcefully.
Kara watches as Mouse’s tick accelerates, and he finally decides to walk away. Brian is very gentle as he tends to her wounds.
“Let’s take some of these paper towels with us. I’m gonna wrap your wrists before I bind them. I’ll use duct tape this time. It causes less friction.” Brian’s voice is soothing, but the words are maniacal. Kara appreciates that he is trying to be helpful, but the twisted and surreal circumstance cancels it out.
*****
Joy:
For the next couple of days, I went about my business monotonously and cried myself to sleep every night. Nightmares, with Tommy in the starring role, began to plague my dreams. I felt broken.
Jen and I checked my apartment a couple of hours after Derek broke in. He was gone. I shut the window, locked it, and grabbed what I needed for a night or so. I stayed on Jen’s couch. She insisted, and I didn’t argue. But I couldn’t hide out in her apartment forever. So, on Tuesday, I believed I was ready to start sleeping at my place again.
Jen and I went to the store and bought two baseball bats. I kept one by the door and one near my bed. That brought me a little peace, even though I was sure these guys were quite capable of overpowering me.
After attending a lecture about perspective in art, Jen came over. I didn’t go. I couldn’t concentrate at all in class. Images and thoughts of Saturday night churned obsessively in my mind.
The two of us gorged ourselves on chocolate ice cream. We sat together waiting for our favorite talk show to come on.
“I think we should take self-defense lessons,” Jen blurted out during a commercial. “It is a good way to work-out and get into shape.” What she really meant was that she didn’t want me spending my life worrying about being attacked again. It was obvious that I was reverting back to a withdrawn state like I was in high school.
“I think it’s a great idea. Especially, if it will get me into shape,” I agree.
Jen smiles at me.
“We can go see some places tomorrow. I was thinking about something else, too...” I added. Jen raised her eyebrows at me.
“And?” she asks quizzically.
“I have been thinking that I should go check on Will. It has been a couple of days. I want to make sure he’s okay.”
“Beaten-up-druggie-guy?” Jen strung the words out together like that was his name. “Are you serious? He’s bad news Joy.” Her inflection was sharp. She put her ice cream down on the coffee table. “It’s honorable that you want to go make sure he is okay, but, and this is a severe ‘but,’ he was beaten for a reason. He is hanging with a tough crowd. He’s probably a criminal. I bet he has some sort of record.”
Jen pleaded her case and used hand gestures to send her point home. Yes, Jen did have a point, but, I really wanted to talk to him.
“I was hoping for some closure,” I said, and Jen’s hands start moving all over again.
“Closure? What closure? You didn’t do anything wrong! You were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Closure is something you need when someone dies or a boyfriend dumps you, not when you’re the victim of being in the wrong place.”
I nodded, mulling over what she said. Jen was right, but I couldn’t let it go. I gazed at the TV as our show ended and the news came on, talking about a minor at a local high school that was attacked and abducted. No more details were released by police. Authorities believed the attack and abduction were related to several recent human trafficking cases. Many homeless teenagers had been reported as missing. These cases were still pending investigation.
Jen got up to rinse out her dish. I was still thinking about what to do when I heard a headline that caught my attention.
Convicted drug dealer, William Harrison, died this morning at his home in Providence of injuries suffered from a brutal beating believed to have taken place Saturday night at a neighboring high school. Officials confirm that Harrison was on probation from a drug dealing conviction in 2010, but are not releasing the name of the high school until the investigation concludes. Here are what some outraged citizens have to say...
Will’s face flashed on the screen during the news release. My bowl of ice cream crashed to the floor and shattered as I stared at the TV screen. Jen rushed over to me.
“What’s the matter?” She shook me because I was stone-faced and stunned.
“That’s him. He’s dead... Oh hell, he’s dead, Jen.” Jen and I wore the same astonished face.
“I shouldn’t have listened to him. I should have taken him to the hospital.” I started getting hysterical. Guilt flooded through me, and my hands shook like they never had before. Tears stung my eyes. “It’s my fault. I should have done something. I should have gone inside with him. I should have told the police like you said.”
My phone rang. We both jumped a mile. I got up automatically to pick it up off the counter, but was all thumbs and dropped it. With trembling fingers, I finally managed to get the phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
“I’m coming to get you. Get rid of your friend,” a man’s voice said from the other end of the line.
“Who’s this?” I stammer.
“I said, I am coming to get you. Pack your things.” It was a weird, dreamlike sensation. Terror struck me through the heart with a vice grip on my breath.
Jen leaned over the back of the couch, watching me.
“Who is it, Joy?”
Fear for Jen paralyzed me. This situation was spiraling out of control. My protective instincts for Jen kicked in. I can’t let anything happen to her! I hit the end button on the phone.
“Wrong number.”
“Thank goodness, you went even paler than you already were,” Jen declared, sounding relieved. She looked at me with a comforting expression. “Now, there was nothing you could do about Will. He told you not to take him to the hospital. You didn’t know him. You did the best you could by taking him home. It’s not your fault. You can’t blame yourself.”
“Yeah, um...I know...” My stomach knotted up. Nausea set in. “I think a shower might make me feel better,” I lied.
“Good idea. I am going to make us some supper, and I’ll come back in about an hour. Try to get some rest. How does chicken sound?” Just the mention of chicken made me want to hurl where I stood.
“That would be great. A nice hot shower and dinner is just what I need.” I tried to force a resigned smile. I wasn’t sure if Jen was going to fall for it, but, when she starts towards the door, I knew I had won.
“See you in an hour.” She closed the door behind her.
As soon as the door clicked shut, I raced to the bathroom to expel everything that was in my stomach. I retched and retched; my nerves would allow me to eat next to nothing in the past few days since the beating and my attack. Today, all I had had was the ice cream that was splattered all over the floor by my couch, and now my toilet bowl.
I took a shower and cleaned myself up. I put my wet hair in a ponytail and pulled on some sweats. Without doing much thinking, I dam
pened a dishrag and began cleaning up the broken bowl and ice cream.
Panic had made me hit the end button on my phone, but I knew whoever was coming for me would find me no matter where I went. I was in this deeper than I thought, even though I didn’t know what this was.
I called Jen to tell her I was going to take a nap instead of eating dinner. I asked her to wake me at eight. If the call was a crank, I would sleep, then get up and eat a late dinner with her. If it was real, then I would have to face it head on. I didn’t want to involve Jen. I cared about her like the sister I never had. Her friendship had been constant and unwavering for years. She was important to me.
Thirty minutes after the phone call, I sat on my bed with my baseball bat across my legs. I positioned myself against the wall to wait. My eyes grew heavy, and I lay down.
I must have dozed off. I blinked my bleary eyes until I shook off the sleep. A glance at my digital clock showed it was seven-thirty. The bat had rolled off me and lay by my side.
Clink, clink. Rattle.
The sound came closer. I twisted my head towards the noise emanating from the fire escape. My heart thudded. The streetlight shone in through the window as I stared blindly at it, waiting for something to happen.
A second later, the light was blocked by a form filling the window. I freaked, picturing my demise like in an old Hitchcock movie. When the face came close to the window, I saw it was Derek. My heart slowed down minimally. The glass between us muffled his words, but I could make them out.
“Let me in,” vaguely adding the word, “please.”
My mind grappled with what to do. He’s a criminal, he beat up Will...no wait...he killed Will. He broke in to my apartment. He grabbed me. But...he tried to save me from Tommy, he brought back my cell phone, he seized me because I was ready to run away screaming.
Something was off. Something didn’t add up. I was back to that word again – closure. I needed to know why. Derek was the only one with the answers.
I reached for the window lock and twisted it open. Derek lifted it and put one leg in. I snatched my baseball bat and held it in front of me, ready to strike if necessary.
“Still in fight mode I see,” Derek laughed lightly. He came in the rest of the way. His blue eyes sparkled with amusement. Was he laughing at me? He stood in front of me with his hands up, like I had a gun and not a bat.
“Why are you here?” I asked with a voice full of authority. Derek’s demeanor changed, and he became brutally serious.
“You have to come with me. You’re in danger. Tommy and the guys know where you live. One of them remembered you from a couple of years ago and Googled you. Good thing it didn’t dawn on John that night, or I don’t know what I could have done to stop them.”
“Googled me? Are you serious? I bet you told them, and this is a trap for me to come with you.”
“No. Joy, I swear. This is me trying to get you out of here. As soon as Tommy heard that Will died...well, he went ape-shit. He now has homicide to add to his list of transgressions. You’re an eyewitness. He’s gonna come after you...no question.” He walked over to my dresser and starts grabbing clothes, throwing them on the bed. “Do you have a bag?”
“I’m not going anywhere with you!” I heard my own stubbornness in my wavering voice. “You and your friends are murderers!”
He reached out to me and stopped when I flinched. Derek ran his hands through his hair.
“Joy...you...have...to...trust...me. Everything is not what it appears. I have to get you out of here.”
I turned my back to him. Thinking this was probably a stupid move, I swung back around with purpose, putting my non-baseball bat carrying hand on my hip.
“Okay, let’s say I believe you. Where are you taking me? What about my family...my friend, Jen, upstairs? Who, by the way, is going to be here in about ten minutes.”
“It would be best if we got out of here before she comes. Leave her a note. Tell her the stress is too much, and you went to stay with some aunt somewhere. Tell her you’ll call her soon. Now, please get a bag.”
Derek pleaded with me, and something in his eyes told me he wasn’t lying. This was the first time I had been in his company with a mildly clear head. I remember thinking when I saw him through the lens of my camera that he didn’t fit with the others. He seemed different. I pondered and rehashed everything he said.
I walked to the closet. I picked up a duffle bag and my camera case.
“This goes with me,” I said forcefully. I went to the bathroom to get my make-up bag and toiletries.
Derek called from the bedroom for me to write a note to Jen. He also told me to leave my front door unlocked. We left through the window, like in a Mission Impossible movie.
I reached for my coat as Derek zipped up the duffle and tossed it over his shoulder.
“Is my camera in there?” I asked.
“Yup, it’s in there.”
He took my hand and led me to the window. He peered out scanning. Looking for trouble I guess. When Derek felt the coast was clear, we made our way onto the fire escape. He shut the window, and we walked down until the last part. We had to scale down a small metal ladder. Derek let go and jumped, as though he did it all the time. His feet thudded onto the cement.
“Okay, I’ve got you. Let go.”
I gazed below me at the enormous space between the metal ladder and the ground. Derek had his hands raised, as if to catch me. Up until this point in my life, I do not think I had ever fallen from this height, nor had I ever needed someone to catch me. If I’d had to do this a couple of weeks ago, I would have chickened out. But instead, I was numb. I let go. The cool fall night air rushed around me. In the blink of an eye, I was in Derek’s arms. He caught me. I was surprised. I really didn’t think he could do it. He set me down on my feet. My hand was once again in his as he led me along the alleyway.
Derek and I moved swiftly through the streets. We dodged around some corners and hid in a couple of door alcoves. My heart danced nervously in my chest. Derek seized my hand, and we were off, headed straight for a car.
The alarm in my head rang – danger – as we headed to a black sedan with tinted windows. I tried to jerk back my hand, but Derek had a good hold on me.
“It’ll be okay,” he said, attempting to reassure me.
I lightened my tug and let him continue to pull me to the vehicle. The automatic door opener clicked. Derek opened the driver door and threw my bag in the backseat. We simultaneously got in the car and fastened our seat belts.
The car was definitely nicer than my little Ford. This car had a shiny black leather interior with all sorts of gadgets and knobs.
Derek eased the car away from the curb. Then he let out a visible sigh of relief.
“How are you doing, Joy?”
“I’m a tiny bit spellbound. That was like a secret agent getaway,” I told him. Only the lights of the dashboard illuminated his face and he snorted.
“Yeah, well, this is how I operate.”
“Where are we going?” I asked as we pulled out onto the main road.
“Far away from here,” he said cryptically.
I was just about to open my mouth to ask Derek what he meant by that when he pushed down on the accelerator and stole an anxious glance in the rearview mirror. I noticed the deep growl of motorcycles. The sound ricocheted around the interior of the car. I swiveled in my seat to look through the back window and saw them...two headlights, one coming up quickly on the right and the other on the left. They dispersed like fireworks and rode along each side of our car.
“Down!” Derek yelled. “They are trying to see in!”
I shrank down in the seat as low as I could go. The fear and panic, what had been a dull throbbing in the pit of my stomach since that horrible Saturday night, resurfaced in all of its strength. Being crunched down in the seat left me blind. My head snapped and whipped around with the jolt of the vehicle as Derek swung the car right, then a quick left.
I peered up a
t him from my awkward position. In his face, I perceived intensity. The thrum of the motorcycles shifted from screeching to slowing over and over again. Derek whipped the wheel back and forth as if he was auditioning for NASCAR.
“Hold on!” Derek barked as he spun the steering wheel in a complete one-eighty.
The car suddenly jerked like we went over a speed bump. From my crouched position, I looked up and saw overhead lights whipping by, then more darkness. Without warning, Derek stopped the car and turned it off. He laid his body over the middle console, partially on top of me.
Derek whispered, “I think we lost them, but let’s stay right here for a while. You okay?”
“Who was that?” I asked, my chin resting on my chest.
“That was Tommy’s guys,” he murmured and a cell phone rings. His face was just inches from mine as he yanked the cell from his pocket.
“Yeah. (pause) We need a new car. They must have tailed me to her place. (pause) I know it’s going to shit, but we can still fix it! I’m at the downtown mall garage in the closed section. (pause) Just come get us.” He tapped the end button in a huff. “I think they’re gone. It should be safe to sit up now, but we need to wait for a new car.”
Slowly, I unfolded myself and stretched. I was cramped down in the seat way too long. Derek had an aggravated expression. From the sound of the conversation he’d just had, neither person was too happy.
“What’s going on?” I asked softly, whispering like someone might hear us. Derek rested his head back on the seat.
“The plan was to pick you up and get you out of town. My boss decided to put the plan into action way too soon. I couldn’t get to you fast enough.”
We sat quietly for a few minutes, the underground garage as silent as a grave. A squeak of wheels precipitated headlights shining in front of us. Derek moved to get out of the car.
“Wait here,” he said without even looking at me as he slammed the door. He walked to the other car and opened the passenger door. The interior light came on inside. The driver looked familiar. I squinted and tried to see. I sat forward more to really focus. It took me a second to realize...Will!
