Songs Unfinished

by Holly Stratimore

  “You set me up?” Her voice shook slightly as she hoped it would distract him for that split second she needed to withdraw her hand from the pocket. It worked. He tilted his head back and laughed. When he did, his grip loosened on her arm just enough for her to pull away, but as she did so, he lunged toward her, grabbing her shoulders with both hands and shaking her.

  “You left me with one hell of a headache, you dumb bitch.”

  “You deserved it, you fucking bastard—you were trying to rape me.”

  The back of his hand came across the side of her face with such force it knocked her backward and crashing over a kitchen chair. She swiftly got up on her elbows and pushed with her feet, sliding away from him on the hardwood floor like a crab. Ignoring the throbbing in her cheekbone, she spun herself over onto all fours, got to her feet, and scrambled toward the living room.

  As she reached for the phone on the end table, he crashed into her and pushed her back down. “Oh no, you don’t.” Her forehead smashed into the coffee table and she collapsed facedown onto the floor. Fighting loss of consciousness, she forced herself to blink rapidly. Her brain buzzed as the pain shot through her skull and she struggled for strength to get up.

  She turned just in time to see Brinkman lowering his body over her with a lamp cocked over his shoulder. His knees hit the floor, straddling her hips and pinning her down.

  “Poetic justice, wouldn’t you say?” He laughed.

  “No!” Shawn screamed, twisting her body and shielding her face in the crook of her arm as the lamp slammed down. It shattered on the coffee table, sending shards of glass and porcelain in every direction. He laughed again.

  “You’re right. This would be no fun at all if you were unconscious while I collected on our little agreement, don’t you think?”

  “And what agreement would that be, Mr. Brinkman?” Shawn said snidely. “I never saw the recording contract you promised me, either. You know, the one you promised me in exchange for sex.”

  Brinkman squeezed his knees into her ribs and, with a cocky smile on his lips, leaned back slightly and removed his tweed suit jacket. Shawn punched at his chest and tried in vain to squirm away, but he quickly dropped the garment, grabbed her wrists, and shoved them down onto the floor above her head. “If you cooperate with me now, and give me what I asked for six months ago, then perhaps I’ll put that offer back on the table.”

  “Fuck you, Brinkman. I’d rather flip burgers the rest of my life than sell my soul for what you’ve got to offer.” She swiftly spat into his face, and when he reflexively pulled back, she gathered her strength and pushed her body upward enough to tip his balance. She stretched her neck and bit down hard on his forearm. He hollered and immediately let go of her to grab his arm. In an instant, she shoved him off her, with an agonizing grunt as pain shot through her left arm. She took off down the hall toward Randi’s bedroom. One thought pounded through her mind: Randi kept a gun in her nightstand.

  Shawn ran to the nightstand, but Brinkman grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her backward before shoving her face down onto the bed. He jumped on top of her and took a fistful of her hair and jerked her head back. He breathed hard onto the back of her neck.

  “You’re nothing but a useless whore.”

  “You’ll be sorry. I live with a cop.”

  “Nice try, freak.”

  Oh God. This can’t be happening. Not again. “Get off me!”

  “Not till I get what I came for, bitch.”

  “Eat shit and die.”

  Brinkman laughed. “You are a feisty one, I’ll give you that.”

  With all her might, Shawn whipped her head back and crashed it into his face. As he grabbed for his bloodied nose, she heaved her body upward and sent him tumbling onto the floor. He crawled to his knees and looked up to find himself staring into the barrel of a 9 mm semiautomatic.

  Shawn growled through clenched teeth, “I said, get off me.”

  And then she heard the sweet sound of an unexpected voice. “Party’s over, scumbag.”

  “It’s about time you got home, Officer Hartwell.” Shawn sighed with relief as Randi entered with her gun drawn. The room went blessedly dark as she passed out.

  *

  After a quick, staccato phone call from Randi, Jaymi and Nikki arrived to what looked like a scene out of a movie: three police cars with their blues flashing, two officers escorting a handcuffed man out the front door, and an ambulance parked in the driveway. As Jaymi took in the scene and scanned for someone who might be able to update them, Randi stepped out the door and held it open as the techs emerged, carrying a loaded stretcher.

  “Shawn,” exclaimed Jaymi, scurrying alongside as they wheeled the gurney toward the ambulance. “Shawn, are you all right?” Shawn’s head was bandaged and her cheek was already turning purple and swelling. “What the hell happened?”

  Shawn’s face lit up at the sight of Jaymi. She cocked one side of her lip upward and said, “Never been better. But it’s a long story.”

  “She may have a concussion, so we’ve got to take her in,” said one of the EMTs.

  “Can I ride with her?” asked Jaymi.

  “You may ride along, but really, it’s up to the patient,” said the EMT. He took note of Shawn’s nod, but they were delayed one more time when Randi gently shoved her way in and leaned over Shawn.

  “We’ve got him.”

  “Is it enough?” replied Shawn.

  “I think so, but we’ll let the lawyers sort that out. Either way, he’s going away for a long time. He’s wanted on a whole shitload of stuff—fraud, assaults, bad checks, you name it.”

  Jaymi looked at Randi, puzzled. “What’re you guys talking about? Who?”

  “Shawn got the whole thing on tape with that recorder she carries in her pocket.” She turned back to Shawn and smiled. “Maybe if this music biz thing doesn’t pan out for you, you should think about joining our undercover squad, huh?” She placed a quick kiss on Shawn’s cheek. “You did great.”

  “Hartwell! Let’s go!” shouted one of the police officers.

  “Damn it. Listen, I have to go to the station and fill out my reports. I’ll call the hospital to check on you, all right? Don’t worry, you’re in good hands.”

  Once they all settled into the ambulance, the events of the evening seemed to catch up with Shawn. She blinked repeatedly at Jaymi, fading in and out of consciousness and struggling to speak. Jaymi leaned over to hear her whispers.

  “She said her name was Alex…not Peach. Sorry…so sorry…” Tears spilled from the corners of Shawn’s eyes until she finally lost consciousness altogether.

  *

  Shawn was admitted to the hospital and kept under observation overnight for a mild concussion. She awoke at some point during the night to see Jaymi asleep in a chair next to her. She had no recollection of arriving at the hospital or anything that happened once they got there. She vaguely recalled Jaymi in the ambulance with her. She tried to speak, but her voice was barely a whisper.

  “Jaymi.” Jaymi stirred slightly. “Jaymi.”

  Jaymi bolted upright, “Shawn. Are you okay? You need me to get the nurse?”

  “No.” She shifted her weight, tried to roll onto her side, then winced and stopped. “My shoulder…”

  Jaymi was now standing by the bed. “It’s sprained,” she whispered. “Don’t get up, just try to relax. You need anything? Drink of water? Bathroom?”

  “No, I just need…” A lump caught in her throat.

  “What, sweetheart?”

  Shawn smiled and closed her eyes. “That was it.”

  “What was it?”

  Shawn’s eyelids parted ever so slightly. “You called me sweetheart. That’s what I need. I need you.”

  Jaymi gently brushed Shawn’s bangs off her face. “You need to sleep, sweetheart. Okay?”

  Shawn nodded and drifted off again.

  *

  Shawn awoke the next morning to the sounds of unfamiliar voices asking Jaymi to
leave the room. Her temperature was taken. Her blood pressure was checked. Her eyes were checked. Her reflexes were tested. She was asked a series of questions—her name, her date of birth, did she know where she was and why she was there. She figured she must have passed the tests when they told her she’d be going home in about an hour. Jaymi, she was told, was waiting outside at the nurses’ station with Randi.

  The entourage filed out and it was then that she noticed there were cards, bouquets of flowers, and balloons all over the room. Nikki, Kay, Brian, and Lance came in moments later. LaKeisha was right behind them, carrying a giant Mylar balloon with a teddy bear on it with a bandaged head and a Get Well Soon message.

  “Where’d all these flowers come from?” Shawn asked, after letting everyone know she was feeling better.

  Nikki answered, “Who do you think? Your fans.”

  Shawn scoffed. “Yeah, right. Fans. Seriously, did you guys do all this?”

  Kay pointed to one of the vases. “Just that one, from the band, and there’s one from Lance, of course.” She flipped over the cards of a few others. “And this one’s from your boss, Karla, and your coworkers. Jaymi called her last night. She said you’ve got sick pay to cover you the rest of the week.”

  LaKeisha tied her balloon to the bedrail. “This is from me, Sara, and Devin. They both send hugs and wishes to get well.”

  Nikki grinned. “You made the news last night, kid. Seriously, the rest are from fans. Guess you’re more famous than you thought.”

  Shawn was quietly absorbing this unfamiliar territory and was unexpectedly saddened by one thought. LaKeisha placed her hand on Shawn’s arm. “What is it, sweet baby?”

  “I don’t suppose there’s anything here from my father?”

  They all looked at each other silently for a minute and, without a word, began checking the tags and cards. When they finished, LaKeisha pursed her lips and slowly shook her head. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said softly, taking Shawn’s hand in hers and giving it a squeeze. Shawn pinched her eyes shut and swallowed hard.

  “We’re gonna go so you can get some rest, all right?” said LaKeisha. Each visitor took a turn giving Shawn a kiss on her good cheek and a few words of encouragement before heading out.

  *

  A doctor walked up to the group of women and looked at them questioningly. “Which of you is taking Shawn Davies home?”

  Jaymi and Randi answered simultaneously, “I am.”

  “What?” Jaymi said. “Under the circumstances, don’t you think she’d feel safer with me at my place than at your house where she’s likely to be reminded of what just happened?”

  “How do you know she wants to go home with you? Do you know how bad you hurt her?”

  “Guys, cool it, will you?” said Nikki.

  The doctor loudly cleared his throat, interrupting the argument. When he had their undivided attention, he said, “Shawn is ready to be discharged, but she will need a few days’ rest and she needs to follow up with her doctor. The nurse will have written discharge instructions to send home with her. I trust you’ll figure out which home that is by then?” Jaymi nodded, and a split second later Randi did, too. The doctor left them, apparently satisfied.

  “Look, I know I hurt her, but—” started Jaymi.

  “Damn right. Who the hell saved her last night, huh? No one can keep her safer than I can. Besides, all her stuff’s at my house.”

  “Are you forgetting that you once hit on her, too? Do you know what that did to her? She’s not just another one of your conquests, Randi.”

  Nikki swiftly wedged herself between them. “God damn it, you guys, would you listen to yourselves? Fuck it, I’ll take her home if it’ll shut you two up. Problem with that is she doesn’t give two shits for me, so she probably wouldn’t be too happy with that arrangement. Don’t you think the logical solution here is to ask Shawn what she wants?”

  “She’s coming home with me,” Jaymi stated. “She told me last night she needs me, and I don’t intend to let her down, especially now.” She made a move toward Shawn’s room, but Nikki intercepted her.

  “I’ll go. Can I trust you guys not to kill each other while I’m in there? Huh? Just cool your jets a minute.” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head at the ceiling, and walked away, muttering, “Jesus.”

  Nikki knocked lightly and Shawn said to come in. She was dressed and sitting in a wheelchair. Nikki managed a smile and asked, “How’re you doing, kiddo? They should have a better set of wheels for rock stars than that old thing.”

  “As long as it gets me the hell outta here, I don’t care. The nurse said they’ll be back to get me in a few minutes. Where’s Jaymi?”

  “She and Randi are out there fighting over who gets to take you home.”

  A slow smile broke out on Shawn’s face. “Really? And who’s winning?”

  “At the moment, I am.” Shawn raised her eyebrows and they shared a nervous laugh. “It’s up to you, Shawn. You tell me where you want to go, and I will gladly deliver you there safely.”

  Shawn was thoughtful for a moment and let out a deep breath. “Jaymi really wants me to come home?”

  Nikki pulled a chair up next to her and sat. “You still think of Jaymi’s place as home, don’t you?”

  “Yeah. I do. But we still have things to work through, and I don’t want her doing this just because of what happened last night.”

  “Shawn, she loves you. She would’ve asked you yesterday, but you were already gone when she got to the door.”

  Shawn’s eyes grew wide. “She knew I was there yesterday?”

  “Yeah. You caught her in the shower. By the time she realized someone was at the door, it was too late. Plus…well, she won’t admit it, but she’s afraid you’ve got something going with Randi—which I know you don’t, and I’ve told her so—but she’s a bit jealous anyway.”

  “So she still thinks I’m a player.”

  “No, she’s blaming herself for the whole mess—you guys breaking up, you being attacked last night, everything. Bottom line is, she loves you and she’s about to start a brawl out there for the right to take you home with her. Which means you better make up your mind fast, and I better get back out there to make sure security isn’t hauling them off and tossing them out on their keisters.”

  Shawn thought for a moment and then said, “Please call Randi in here. And give us a few minutes alone.”

  “Your wish is my command.”

  A minute later, the door opened and Randi entered. “Hey, you wanted to see me?”

  “Yeah. Randi, I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you for what you did—and don’t just shrug it off that you were just doing your job. You saved my life.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “Well, I do. He might not have killed me, but if you hadn’t come in when you did, I might’ve killed him.”

  “It would’ve been self-defense, you know, if you did. Bastard would’ve deserved it, too.”

  Shawn dropped her face into her hands and shook her head. Her teeth clenched as she seethed out her words. “I wanted to. I wanted to so bad. I’ve never felt so much hatred—all the fear I’ve had to live with, and the nightmares, the way that asshole has tormented me all these months. I wanted to blow him away, and it scares the living shit out of me that I felt that way.” She shuddered. Randi knelt in front of her and cradled her hands.

  “I know. Trust me, I know what that feels like. It’s okay. You’re okay now.”

  “I’m not a violent person, but at that moment, when I pointed that gun at him…” Shawn’s voice faltered. “I just wanted him to stop.” A tear escaped and ran slowly down her cheek.

  “I know. And you did stop him. We stopped him together, and now he’s going away for a long time. He can’t hurt you ever again.”

  Shawn nodded, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. Randi stood and searched the room, finding a tissue to hand her. She blew her nose and sat up a little straighter, composing herself. “You�
�ve been a good friend to me, Randi.” Randi shrugged, her arms folded. “But you do know that’s all we’ll ever be, right? Friends?”

  “Hey, yeah, no sweat,” Randi said gruffly, pacing a semicircle. “You know I’m not really a settling-down kind of girl. And you’ve never led me on to think you wanted more, so don’t sweat it, all right?”

  “I hope you know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me over the last month or so.”

  “But you’re going home with Jaymi. Fine. That’s fine. I understand.”

  “Randi, it’s not that I don’t like living with you, but if Jaymi’s giving me a chance to work things out I have to take it. I love her. I want to go home.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Shawn waited on the couch while Jaymi made them tea. Obviously housekeeping hadn’t been a priority lately. The place needed dusting and vacuuming. Junk mail was piled up on the breakfast bar. Lead sheets and pages of lyrics and miscellaneous papers cluttered the coffee table. An acoustic guitar was in the recliner. Shawn picked up one of the papers and immediately recognized it as another attempt at Jaymi’s song for her mother. No progress since she had seen it a month ago.

  Jaymi settled onto the couch next to Shawn with their cups of tea. “I want you to come home. To stay.”

  Shawn let Jaymi’s words hang in the air for a moment. Her gut was reacting much differently than she had expected it to. The underlying tension of this impending discussion had been conveniently kept at bay while they stopped at Randi’s to gather a few days’ worth of necessities, and then driven the thirty-five minutes to Jaymi’s place. After helping her change into sleep clothes, Jaymi had settled her into her own bed. Shawn had slept for much of the day. When she awoke, she took a bath and dressed in a pair of loose jeans and an old T-shirt.

  “Jaymi, I know finding out about me and Peach was an awful thing. But you’ve hurt me, too.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry.”

  Here was the moment Shawn had been waiting for. Jaymi was admitting that she wanted her back. But for the first time in her life, she was feeling a love for herself that outweighed the importance of anything else she had ever experienced. As foreign as this feeling was, it felt good. There was no one, not even Jaymi Del Harmon, who mattered to her more now than herself. And, as she had learned from her sessions with LaKeisha, that wasn’t a bad thing. Self-caring wasn’t the same thing as selfishness. Self-worth was a new discovery that she wasn’t about to relinquish. Not now. Not ever.