Moments Lost and Found

by Olivia Jake

  As sickening as the conversation was, the more they talked, the more he drank. He was almost finished with his third scotch and Sam knew that would be to her advantage. Granted, his anger might be fueled by the alcohol, but it would also make his reactions slower if it came to that. And by the sounds of things, it was going to.

  “Samantha, the sooner you give in, the sooner I’ll let you go. This doesn’t have to hurt. You might even enjoy it. Though, I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He paused as if reliving a secret memory.

  “It’s always more fun for me when you bitches struggle. Oh God how I love to hear your little whimpers and pleas. Just thinking about you begging me is making me hard.” The look on his face was one of sadistic pleasure. He smiled as he reached down and started rubbing his cock. Sam could see that indeed, there was a bulge in his pants. She also knew from Craig’s training not to let the words get to her. It was so hard given how disgusting they were, but she forced herself to focus on an exit or anything that could help her.

  “You know what I hear when you little whores beg me? All I hear is ‘Please, George. Ooh please.’” He raised his voice to mimic a woman’s. “Between you and me, Samantha, I know you really want it. All of you little cunts do. You pretend like you don’t, but I know better. It’s ok, I won’t tell anyone. It can be our little secret.” Sam was listening. He really was sick and twisted, but she tried to make sure to listen to see if there was anything in there that she could use to help get her out of what was escalating into something very, very scary.

  She was looking around his office looking for anything she could use as a weapon. She was too far away from his desk to grab anything that was on it, and there wasn’t anything obvious like a letter opener or a paper weight. He didn’t have any vases on his coffee table, nothing in clear view that she could use. And she wouldn’t be able to make it to the door without him cutting her off and grabbing her. The only way out that she could see was to get him into a position that she had worked on with Craig, and hope that with all that training, instincts kicked in.

  She thought of one more tack to take, “What makes you think that I won’t report you to the police?” She thought fear of being arrested might knock some sense into him.

  He laughed, “Really, Samantha? After your much publicized affair with Laurent, do you really think that they’re going to believe that I forced you? It seems to me that sleeping with your French media clients would look like a pattern to them.” He chuckled and then added, “in fact, I’ll bet it looks like that’s how you won both accounts. You have to admit, the similarities are uncanny, non?”

  Ok, so fear of the law was out. And the mention of it just seemed to piss him off more. He put his drink down and apparently was tired of their cat and mouse game around the office. He now walked straight towards her. Sam was still behind the furniture as she had been trying to go around the outside of the office, but all that did was make her closer to the wall.

  She finally made her move and ran to the right thinking he’d come around the couch from the left but he actually climbed over it and grabbed her, slamming her back against the wall. After the shock of it, her first instinct was to push against him, which prompted him to smile and say, “Oh, Samantha, the struggle is almost my favorite part. You women are so cute, you think you have a chance and you push and pull, and I already told you, all it does is make me harder.” He leaned in, his face was inches from hers and said, “Go ahead, beg me Samantha. Let me hear you plead.”

  He was so close to her that his words and his stale scotch breath were making her sick. She took a deep breath and tried to turn her wrists like Craig had taught her, and she freed her right arm that way, but he still had her left arm. Her breaking free with one arm seemed to make him madder as he yanked her left arm so hard she heard a snap and felt a sudden shooting, stabbing, searing pain in her left shoulder as he twisted her arm around and now held it behind her. She was pretty sure her shoulder was broken or torn or whatever happens to shoulders. The pain was unbearable. She felt lightheaded from it, and for a moment felt like she might pass out from the pain, but she had to block it out. She instinctively tried to pull away again and he took his free hand hit her across her face so hard she felt her lip split and suddenly felt a rush of blood in her mouth. “Now look at what you’ve made me do, Samantha. But don’t think that a little blood will stop me from putting that clever little mouth of yours to use.” With that she looked him straight in the eye and spat in his face.

  He whipped her around and slammed her head against the wall. She was stunned and momentarily dazed. She literally started seeing stars. Focus, Sam, focus. Breathe. She told herself. She felt a new throbbing on her left eye. She couldn’t believe how much she hurt. Her shoulder felt like it had been ripped out of its socket, her mouth was bleeding and her left eye was starting to close, she could feel the knot above it swell.

  As her eye swelled up, she realized it was soon hampering her vision more than helping it. Once again, she tried to regain her breath, so she stopped struggling for a moment, which seemed to make him relax ever so slightly. He had her pinned against the wall, her back to his front. Her left arm was useless and he still had it in his grip. The throbbing in her shoulder and eye was unbearable. The only thing that broke her from focusing on the horrible pain was feeling George’s free hand as he reached around and now started feeling her hip, making its way inside her blouse and up to her breast. She let him continue, as much as it sickened her, she thought that maybe, once he felt her breast, he’d get distracted enough to let up. She was willing to suffer this small indignity if she could use it to her advantage.

  His hand was on her skin and she could feel his hot breath in her ear, panting, “See, Samantha, that’s right, if you just give in,” he said as he slid his hand under her bra and grabbed her, “Oh, that’s so nice, see, you’re nipple is nice and hard for me, I think you like this Samantha.” And as he started to play with her nipple she could feel his grip on the rest of her relax a little. Not much, but she knew this was her chance. She tried to control her panting, taking deep breaths, calming herself as he felt her up. As she relaxed her body, she could feel his grip on her left arm loosen a bit more, ever so slightly. She tried not to focus on his erection pushing into her backside and his disgusting breath, hot in her ear. He started rubbing himself against her, relaxing his grip even further. His hand continued to knead her breast, his fingers sloppy as they pawed at her skin. Sam took this time to take stock of everything. Her position with him, where she was in the office, how much room she had. Her mind had thankfully kicked in and she focused on what Craig had taught her if she were ever grabbed from behind. She was glad she was wearing pumps as she lifted her right foot and BAM! slammed it down onto the top of his foot.

  “OOOOWWWW! YOU BITCH!” he instinctively let her arm go as he stepped back and bent over a bit, holding up his foot which gave Sam enough room to turn around and, with all her might, she kicked him as hard as she could in his crotch which sent him crashing to the floor holding himself yelling and yelling, “YOU CUNT, YOU FUCKING CUNT.” He was writhing on the floor holding is crotch curled up into a ball.

  Sam still only had one working eye, so she had to turn her whole head to find her purse. She grabbed it with her good arm and, through the throbbing pain somehow managed to run. He continued yelling obscenities as she ran out the door and down the hall. Getting out of his office was a blur, literally. Her left eye was completely swollen shut and her left arm was so painful, but she couldn’t give into it. She had to run, she had to get out of there fast. She first ran to the elevators, but the thought of standing there, waiting like a sitting duck, there was no way she could risk even a second. She turned around and found the door to the stair well, slammed it open and started running down the stairs as fast as she could. After two flights, she stopped to take off her heels, everything taking longer than usual with only one working arm, and then continued running down, now taking two stairs at a time. She
kept trying to listen for him, to see if she could hear him coming after her, but between her panting and throbbing and the sounds of her own footsteps, she couldn’t hear anything else. After seventeen floors she finally made it out into the parking lot and ran to her car, barefoot. The pain of her feet was nothing compared to everything else.

  When she finally got to her car, she was sucking in air, gasping and panting, spitting blood every few breaths. As she went to find her keys, she realized she had to put her purse on the ground so she could dig in it with her one good hand and look with her one good eye to find them. Staying still like that terrified her, her heart pounding with fear. She had no idea how long she had before George would come after her. She was shaking, searching, scrambling in her purse for her God damned keys. Finally, she felt them, pressed the unlock button and opened the door. She threw her purse onto the passenger’s seat, jumped in, and then leaned over with her right arm to close her door. She shoved the key into the ignition with trembling hands, put the car into gear and sped away as fast as possible.

  She drove for a few minutes before pulling over so she could find her phone, and dialed 911.

  “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” the operator asked, just like in the movies, Sam thought. Only this was real. Horribly, horribly real.

  “I wath…” she tried to speak, but her tongue wasn’t working, and her lips were so swollen, and it hurt, it hurt just to speak. And she was trembling.

  “Ma’am?” the operator prompted.

  Sam tried again, “I wath justh attacked.” She tried so hard to enunciate. She was still panting.

  “Ok, ma’am, where are you now?”

  “I’m in my car,” her breathing labored, “I got away.” She tried to suck in air, she tried to talk, “But I think my sthoulder ith broken and I can only thee out of one eye and,” at this, finally, Sam started crying, sobbing, heaving. She was so scared and so alone and in so much pain.

  “Ma’am? Ma’am, are you there? Are you alone? Ma’am?”

  In between sobs, Sam found the strength to answer, “Yeth, yeth, I’m alone.”

  “Ok, ma’am, I am going to send an ambulance to your location, I need you to stay where you’re at.” The operator was calm and professional but firm.

  “NO!” Sam yelled. The operator tried to interrupt with a few more “ma’am’s” but Sam just kept saying “NO” until she calmed enough to say, “No, I don’t want to sthay here. I can’t just sthit here.”

  “Ma’am, if you can only see out of one eye and only have one arm working, I cannot advise you to drive. Please ma’am, please stay put.”

  “NO! I am not sthaying put.” The thought of sitting on the side of the road so near to George’s offices terrified Sam. After what she just went through, she was not going to feel like a sitting duck. “I am a couple milesth from St. Joeth, I’m driving myself to the emergency room, but I want the police there. I want to make a sthtatement. I want thisth asthhole arresthed.”

  “Do you know who attacked you, ma’am?”

  Oh God, this was really happening. She was really giving the cops George’s name. “Yeth. Histh name isth George LaRue. Histh officthe isth at…” and Sam somehow found the strength to give the operator the address. She just hoped he would still be there so the police could arrest him.

  “Ok, ma’am, I am dispatching officers to that address. I am going to stay on the line with you until you get to the emergency room.”

  “No, I have to call sthomeone, I have to warn them.”

  “Ma’am, please don’t hang up,” was the last thing the operator said before Sam hung up and dialed Laurent’s cell. It was the first time she called him in over a month. She wasn’t surprised when he didn’t answer. She tried to sound as calm as possible, but between her split lip and a trembling voice, she knew she wasn’t doing a great job. She probably sounded drunk.

  “Laurent, it’sth Stham. George might be coming for you. I don’t know if the policthe got to him in time. Pleasthe be careful.” Was all she said. She didn’t want to leave a message that he attacked her. She just wanted to warn him. If George was so hell bent on hurting Sam, the person he really wanted to hurt was Laurent.

  When she drove up to the emergency entrance, there were nurses and doctors waiting for her. She assumed the 9-1-1 operator phoned ahead to let them know she was coming.

  They helped her out of her car and immediately put her into a wheelchair, wheeling her into the bright lights of the ER. Finally, she was safe. Sam knew they were talking, she could hear voices and she knew they were asking her questions, and even though she knew they were right there next to her, they somehow sounded very, very far away. All of the adrenaline, all of the fear, all of the pain finally gave way. The last thing Sam remembered was being wheeled past people and lights and sounds that didn’t register. She was still clutching her purse when slowly, finally, everything went dark.

  CHAPTER 27

  “Samantha. Ms. Davis. Samantha, can you hear me?” Sam struggled to open her eyes, but only one would open. She smelled something rank that jolted her awake. She was lying down and saw three unfamiliar, but smiling, welcoming faces looking back at her.

  “Welcome back, it is Samantha?” one of the faces asked.

  Sam smiled and said weakly, not recognizing her own voice, “You can call me Tham.”

  “Ok, Sam. How are you feeling?” one of the nurses or doctors asked. She wasn’t sure who was who.

  “I hurt. A lot.” All the faces looking at her were warm and sympathetic.

  “I’ll bet you do, honey. We’ve got some work to do on you, but do you think you’re up to talking with an officer first? They’d like to get your statement as soon as possible so they can get who did this to you.” Sam looked over, having to turn her head so she could see out of her good eye, and saw two officers waiting in the doorway. Sam nodded. “Ok, good. They’ll be quick and then we’ll make you feel better, I promise.” Sam felt like they were talking to her like they’d talk to a child, but she didn’t care. Actually, she did, and she liked it. It felt comforting. It felt caring.

  The two officers walked over, one man, one woman. Sam assumed that in a case like this, where a woman was attacked, that was probably protocol.

  “Ms. Davis? I’m officer McCallister, this is officer Hsu. Are you up for answering some questions?” Sam nodded. “Ok, good. Like the doctor said, we’ll be quick. Can you tell us what happened, who did this to you?”

  Sam gave them as much detail as she could including George’s name, address, his relationship with her. She told them the things that he said to her, she wanted it to be clear that this wasn’t just an attack, but an attempted rape. She told them how she fought back and how she got away.

  “You did great, Sam. Really great.” Officer Hsu, the man said, making Sam try to smile, which hurt given her busted lip. She didn’t feel so great, but she knew how much worse it could have been. As pathetic as it felt, she soaked up the praise. In light of everything recently, it felt like it had been so long since Sam felt like she had done something right, something good.

  “I really hope you get him.” She said weakly.

  “We do too. We’re going to go do that right now. We have all of your contact information and may need to have you come down to the station if we need more, or if we catch him, we’ll need you to come identify him, ok?” Sam nodded. Every little movement hurt.

  “All right, we’re going to let the doctors take care of you and make you feel better.” They turned to leave and then Officer McCallister turned back around and smiled, “You’re one of the lucky ones, Sam. You should be proud of yourself. You remember that, ok?” Sam tried to smile again, but it hurt her lip so much. She just swallowed and nodded.

  After the police left, one of the doctors, Dr. Hernandez, a woman who appeared to be in her mid-40s, came back to Sam’s bedside with another woman, Sun Yun, who Sam assumed was a nurse based on the fact that Dr. Hernandez had a long white coat and Sun Yun just had patterned scr
ubs. That, and the fact that there was no Dr. before her name. Sam was focusing on the oddest things, her mind was not completely there, clearly. Sam saw Sun Yun inject something into her IV right after the officers left.

  “So Samantha,” Dr. Hernandez started.

  “Pleathe, call me Stham.” Sam said with her new lisp. Even the slightest talking or movement hurt and seemed like it required so much energy. Energy she didn’t have. She knew they had given her some type of pain killer because the stabbing, throbbing pain in both her shoulder and eye had started to lessen. They were still very much there, but Sam was finally feeling a little relief. Unfortunately, she was getting more groggy.

  Dr. Hernandez smiled softly, “Sam, we’re going to take you down for some X-rays and a CT scan of your shoulder and chest to see just what type of damage has been done. We’re also going to get a CT scan of your head to see if there’s any sign of bleeding on your brain.”

  “Bleeding on my brain?” Sam said groggily. Yeah, they definitely must have given her some drugs because even though she mentally thought about how much that phrase should panic her, she was somehow calm.

  “That’s quite a nasty knot you’ve got there on your eye. And, as you described it, your head was slammed into a wall. You might have a concussion, and we just want to make sure there’s nothing more than that.”

  “Ok.” Sam’s head was swirling. She tried to sit up a little, but couldn’t even manage that.

  “Sam, whoa, where are you trying to go?”

  “I need to make a phone call. Can I do that before the sthcans?” Sam could hear herself talking and knew she sounded like her head wasn’t all there, which, it wasn’t. But everything seemed clearer inside her head than when it came out. When she heard the words, it didn’t even sound like her.