Fighting Perfection (The Perfection Series Book 2) (32 page)

     I began to bounce my knee to combat the sudden case of fear that overtook me.  I reached into my purse and pulled out my cell phone so I could call 911.  As I spoke to the dispatcher, I explained our position and the situation at hand.  Justin read off her license plate to me as we drove, as she had indeed achieved the desired position of driving directly behind us.  The dispatcher assured me that they would send a squad car to find us, and that we should keep driving and to not lead her back to the house.

     As we came to a stop at a red light, we felt a tap on the back bumper, then the car start to push forward.  We were first at the crosswalk so it was obvious that her intent was to push us into the cross traffic.  I braced myself against the door and screamed out loud.  This woman was truly insane.  She was trying to kill us.

     Justin was gritting his teeth and holding onto the steering wheel with a death grip.  He was practically standing on the brake pedal and had engaged the parking brake.  I could hear the faint squeal of her tires as the she revved her engine harder trying to move us further out into traffic.  As we inched further out into the intersection, I clutched at the door handle and screamed again.  The cacophony of sound, between the squealing of tires, my shrieks, and Justin’s cursing was overwhelming.  I looked around frantically to see if any of the people in the surrounding cars were even noticing what was happening.  I caught the eye of a woman in the car next to us, and the horrified expression on her face mirrored my thoughts.  We were pushed even further into the intersection, so much that cars had to swerve to avoid hitting us.  I dimly worried that another accident would be caused by the people trying to avoid us.  Just as she gave us one final push, the light turned green.  Delia backed up pulling into the right lane around our car.  As she passed us, she turned and looked at me with the most chilling smile I had ever seen, in movies or real life.  Horns started honking again because we were still sitting there with the brake engaged.  Being that it was Los Angeles where most people only concerned themselves with their own business, no one got out to assist us or volunteer to be witnesses, not even the astonished woman next to us.  Consequently, we drove back to my house.

     Neither of us having an appetite at that point, we just collapsed on the sofa and waited for the police to either call or arrive at the door.  Sometime after nine, my doorbell rang.

     Justin stood in the entry way as they came in.  He was fuming.  “Did you find her?” he asked bitterly.

     “No, sir.  We never spotted her in traffic and wherever she went afterward, it wasn’t to her residence.  We have an alert out for her so it shouldn’t be too long before we find her, however.  We just wanted to come to check on you and let you know where things stood, and to remind you to take every precaution you can until she is apprehended.”

     “She’s due to appear in court at the end of the week.  She’s currently out on bond for a number of charges,” I informed them.

     “We’re aware, ma’am.  We’ll patrol through your neighborhood regularly tonight in case she comes looking for you again.  In the meantime, lock everything up tight and try to get some sleep if you can.”

      “We’ll take care of ourselves,” Justin said.  “Just find her and arrest her again.  This shit has got to stop now.”

     “Of course we will.  It’s only a matter of time.  Now if you’ll just provide me with a statement of tonight’s events, we’ll be on our way.”

     Now old hats at filing reports, we were done rather quickly.  I gave Justin a quick hug goodnight and went straight to my bedroom.  I lay down on the bed and called James.  As soon as I heard his warm, soothing voice on the line, I burst into tears.

     “Hi,” I stuttered into the phone.

     “Mimi, what’s wrong, what happened?”  He sounded instantly alarmed.

     “She-she tried to kill us tonight, James.”

     “Tell me what happened,” he growled.

      I began to tell the story from the time Justin had thought he’d spotted her in the supermarket parking lot.  I told him everything—everything that had happened, everything I saw, everything I felt—through giant, wracking sobs.  My stress level had skyrocketed, and I just couldn’t handle the fear and the pressure anymore. 

     “James, I can’t take it.  I knew she wanted to make me afraid, but I don’t think I ever truly realized that she wanted to physically hurt me.  I’m absolutely terrified.  They haven’t found her yet. We have all the doors and windows locked tight and the police promised to patrol the neighborhood until she’s caught, but I don’t think I’ll feel safe enough to shut my eyes tonight.”

     “Stay with me on the phone as long as you need to.  I will stay up all night with you if that’s what it takes.  I’m here for you, Kitten.”

     “James, you have to fly a multi-million dollar aircraft in the morning.  The last thing you need is to be sleepy and tired tomorrow.”

     “It’s not like I’ve never done it before, Mimi.  I don’t think I’ve properly schooled you on the type of life most pilots live.” He chuckled softly.  “That’s a story for another time, however.  I seriously doubt I’ll be able to get any sleep now thinking of you all the way down there with that maniac on the loose and me up here not able to do anything.”

     James and I stayed on the phone to near three a.m. talking about the situation, my feelings, and my fear.  He alternately expressed his concern and his anger.  He wanted to tear Delia apart.

     “I don’t believe in hitting females, Kitten, but I swear I want to pummel her into the ground.  Maybe I should find the baddest looking woman on base and bring her down to scare the life out of that bitch.”

     I giggled in spite of myself.  We went on to give this fictitious woman all these amazing              bad-ass traits and what she would do to Delia if she could.  It was silly, but it eased my stress.  I was a non-violent person myself, but feeling so helpless had brought out a side of me that I’d never known was there.  I wanted to hurt her back.  I could close my eyes and imagine the scene.  Me, on top of her throttling the life out of her.  Me, with a gun in my hand pointed at her.  My emotions were so tangible I could feel my fingers going numb as they squeezed around her throat; I could feel the heaviness of the gun in my hands.  It scared me all the more.  I was certainly no badass by any stretch of the imagination.  In such a close up situation, I’d be the one straining to breathe under her hands or staring down the barrel of a gun.  Of this, I had no illusions whatsoever.

     James and I hung up when my doorbell sounded again.  By the time I got to the front of the house, Justin had already opened the door and let the same officers in.  They advised us that they had found Delia holed up in a motel in the San Fernando Valley, and she had been arrested.  She was currently in custody, and we could breathe a little easier.  They informed us that she might not be arraigned that morning given the lateness of the hour that they found her.  It might be Wednesday morning.  They would hold her until she was arraigned, and since she already had charges pending against her, there was a chance that bail would be denied.

      Breathing easier, Justin and I thanked the officers for coming by.  After they left, we collapsed into a mutual hug.  We stood there quietly for a moment letting the relief wash over us.  Justin gripped me tighter, then slowly pulled away.  “You need to go back to bed, Peaches.  If we keep hugging like this, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

     I nodded. I felt the tug toward him too, but it was born out of my relief, and my desire to celebrate the return of some semblance of safety.  It would only be a way to diffuse the pressure that had been on us the entire night, not anything that came from a place of love or true desire for him.

     We were still due at the District Attorney’s office in the morning.  I managed to catch a few hours of sleep somewhere before dawn broke the sky.  I tripped into the kitchen to make coffee just as Justin was coming out of the guest room in just his sleep pants.  I tried not to gape at his large, well-muscled chest, but I wasn’t above sneaking peeks out of the corner of my eye as I popped my K-Cup into the Keurig. 

     Justin was a large man with big rippling muscles.  His pectorals stood out in a proud display over a finely-toned and tight abdomen.  He had a small dusting of dark hair over his chest that got only a little thicker towards his abdomen.  Large tribal tattoos covered his shoulders and arms adding to his bad-boy looks.  He caught me surreptitiously checking him out and broke into a wide smile.  He crossed his arms over his chest so that his biceps bulged further and leaned into the counter.

     “See something you like, Peaches?” he teased.

      I immediately cast my eyes toward the coffee maker and set about finishing making our cups.  I cleared my throat, and replied, “Oh no, no…” He raised one eyebrow as he looked at me with a self-satisfied smirk.  “No, I really mean it.  I just was um…thinking that in all this time I have, ah, never seen you without a shirt.  Those, um, tattoos.  They’re very impressive.”

     “Just the tattoos?” he asked as he opened the refrigerator to retrieve the coffee creamer still with that infuriating smirk.

     “Well, the rest of it is kind of nice, too.” I mumbled.

     “Good to know,” he said, winking at me as he put the creamer down in front of me.  I poured some into my cup with a nervous hand before handing the bottle to him so he could cut his own coffee with it.  I immediately scooted over to the kitchen table and sat down sipping from my cup on auto-pilot and looking anywhere but directly at him.

     He brought his cup to the table, chuckling to himself.  “I’ll be right back,” he told me before wandering off to the back of the house.

     When he returned, he was wearing a plain white t-shirt so tight that it sculpted to his muscles and was straining at the sleeves.  Honestly speaking, all he had done was cover up his tattoos.  Each one of his muscles was still on proud display.  My nerves had already been through the wringer the night before.  I didn’t need to be subjected to the sinful sight of his perfect body.  I was only human and a fragile one at that lately.

     “Better?” he quipped playfully.

     “Barely.” I responded sassily.  “A suit of armor might have been a better choice.”

     “Keep looking at me like that, and I’m going to think I’ll need one to keep you off of me.  You’re practically drooling, Peaches,” he said, draining his coffee cup in a couple of huge gulps.

     “Oh, would you stop teasing me and go put on some real clothes?  We both have better things to do this morning than make fun of poor, delicate Mimi.”

     “Peaches, the things you have lived through, you’re anything but delicate.  As a favor to you however, I will properly cover all of this exquisiteness with something less revealing.”

     “Just shut up and get out of here.  I’ll get ready after I finish my coffee, and we can be on our way.”

     I could still hear his laughter as he closed the guest bedroom door behind him.

     We met with the Assistant D.A. assigned to the case.  Her name was Francesca Giron, and she was tremendously beautiful with long auburn hair shining all the way down to her waist, huge green eyes, and a cute little upturned nose.  She was a young woman; I assumed not long out of law school.  Nevertheless, she was straightforward and no-nonsense.

     After we had been escorted to her office and introduced, we sat down and got straight to business.

     “I understand there was some sort of incident last night between the two of you and                    Ms. Ortega?”  When we nodded, she continued.  “This will delay the proceedings on the earlier charges somewhat.  I fully expect the defense attorney to motion for a continuance so that the charges can be consolidated.  This unfortunately means you will have to be available and appear again at the new date assigned.”

      “What do you think are the chances they will let her out on bond again?  Surely the judge will see her as a continuing threat to both Mimi and I,” Justin asked.

     “He already did.  She made it onto the docket for arraignment this morning, and bail was set for five hundred thousand dollars.  As far as I know, she hasn’t yet posted bail.”

     I gasped.  “Why didn’t anyone contact us to let us know?”

     “I knew you were coming in so I didn’t think a call was necessary.  Again, she hasn’t been released yet.”

     “When do you think we’d have to come back?” Justin inquired.

     “It’ll probably be another six to eight weeks.  We’ll go over your testimony the week or so prior just as we had planned to do today.  I’ll be in touch with you as the process moves along.”

     We stood and shook hands with her, leaving her office within fifteen minutes of stepping inside.

     When we got outside, I immediately called James and left a message on his voicemail that I was coming back that evening.  Justin suggested we go out for a late breakfast while we didn’t have to worry about being followed or worse.  I declined, eager to get back home and start packing more stuff to take back to James’ house.  We decided to just go through a drive-through for food and went back to my house.

     As we sat at my table eating, we discussed the new developments.  I was unhappy that we had to wait longer to push the matter towards a conclusion.