Pieces For You (41 page)

I arrived at Higher Yearning later that afternoon in the best mood ever.  I suspected a trail of rainbows and Carebear-riding unicorns followed in my wake.  I may have walked through Hell, but like the phoenix, I had risen from the ashes and now I was soaring.  If the trials I had endured were the price of admission for the wonder before me, it was worth the cost.  I felt a contentment and peace I had never known—I was blessed.

The only blip of sadness on my radar was Meg.  Outwardly she appeared as carefree and open as ever, but I was learning her tells, glimpses of reality beneath her mask.

“Megalicious, want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“Nothing’s bothering me,” she said unconvincingly.  “I’m a little tired, but other than that, everything is great.  The semester ends next month and I graduate.  I was just accepted to grad school at Hensley.  I’ve got no complaints.”

“That scumbag lawyer hasn’t been bothering you, has he?”

“Nope.  He faded back into the black abyss he crawled out of,” she joked, but the laughter was hollow.

“Don’t give up, babe.  That jackass doesn’t represent all men.  Forget him, your prince charming is enroute…but you know traffic on the Long Island Expressway, he’s just running a little late.”

“Thanks, Sam, but my happy ending doesn’t include a knight in shining armor.  I’m not a Disney princess.  My happiness will never be contingent on a man…no offense.”

“None taken,” I said with a smile.

“My ever after is a fulfilling career, financial security, good friends, and peace.  All I want is a drama-free life.  That’s my dream.”

“Alright, girlie.  Just make sure you buy a lot of batteries,” I teased.

“I splurged on a Costco membership last year.  I’m set.”

I nearly spit out the coffee I had just sipped.

“You have just officially joined the clan, thanks to that comment.  Your induction will take place next Thursday night at The Stop.”

“Such a prestigious honor earned so young—I accept.”

Oh yeah, she’d fit in just fine.

The rest of my shift passed with our lighthearted banter and smiles.  Griffin had planned to swing by and bring me dinner, but he’d gotten hung up at The Stop, so I ran out and bought Chipotle for Meg and I.  We were getting ready to close for the night when Griff texted he had just left work, offering to swing by and keep us company until we wrapped up.  I told him not to bother because we were almost done and to meet me at my house.

“Want me to wait for you?” I offered, despite my eagerness to get home and watch the second-to-last Project Runway of the season.

“No, you go ahead.  I need to use the restroom and grab a sleeve of cups for the front before I head out.  I’ll set the alarm on my way out.”

“Nite, nite,” I said while heading to the door.

I walked to my car, mentally reviewing the contestants on the show this season and their successes and failures, trying to guess who was going to show at Bryant Park. 

My hand was on the door handle when a body pressed against me, trapping me against the car, seconds before my throat began to sting.  I reflexively lowered my chin, but a gloved hand captured it, slamming my head back against a broad shoulder.

“Don’t want to leave evidence if I can avoid it.  Don’t move or you’ll slice your throat open before it’s time.”

I stood, petrified by fear, stunned into silence.  I focused on my breathing, calming myself and trying to retrieve my wits.  Now was not the time to fall apart.  I knew how this story ended if I did nothing.  Last time, I never had a chance to fight…this time, odds were not in my favor, but I had a chance and I wouldn’t blow it by losing my shit.

The more my reason returned, the more confused I became.  This couldn’t be related to Heath…he was dead, for God’s sake.  No trial meant I couldn’t testify.  Was it possible to have such obscenely bad luck that I could be beaten and raped, threatened with death, and assaulted again in an act of random violence?  No way, no one’s luck was that bad.

“Who are you?  Why?” I asked.

His only response was to press the knife more firmly against my neck, penetrating another layer of skin.

“Seriously?  You just admitted you’re going to kill me.  Is it really such a huge inconvenience to tell me ‘why’ first—it’s not like I can tattle on you if I’m dead.”

“Lady, this isn’t the movies.  You aren’t going to talk me out of doing my job, and I’m not confessing to unburden myself.”

Job…he was hired for this.  But Heath was freaking dead.  What the fuck?

“You know, Heath is dead.  There is no trial, no reason to kill me.  Maybe your boss forgot to pass along the memo, seeing as he’s dead.”

“No idea who Heath is, but enough talking.  We are going to walk nice and slow to the parking lot next door.  You are going to get in the van I have waiting without any struggle.  If you cooperate, you die quickly with very little pain.  You give me a headache and you will suffer in ways you can’t even imagine before I kill you.”

I know I should be terrified—and I was—but the utter ridiculousness of the situation was distracting.  That momentary relief allowed my anger to surge.  I clung to the anger like it was a weapon—anger could help me right now, fear couldn’t.  One thing was for sure… this dipshit was definitely uninformed if he thought there was anything he could do to me that hadn’t already been done.  He should have done his research if he wanted to deliver effective threats.

I tried to wiggle free, testing his grip, and the knife bit further into my throat.  I felt a trickle of wetness down my neck.  Great…another freaking scar.  This asshole had better kill me before I got the opportunity to gouge his eyes out with my gel-manicured fingernails.

He turned and directed us to the neighboring lot, the knife pressed firmly against my neck.  I was running through possible escape scenarios, absorbing as many details as possible in search of an opportunity.  We made it about halfway across the lot when his body jerked and the knife fell from my neck, clattering on the asphalt.

“Let her go, asshole,” I heard Meg say as his body jerked against mine.

Whatever Meg had done succeeded in getting him to drop the knife, but his arm was still locked around me, his hold unbreakable.

As if in slow motion, he spun us to face her, pulling a gun from god-knows-where in the process.  I didn’t even have time to call out a warning before the gunshot echoed, causing my ears to ring.  Meg crumpled to the ground as he pulled me backward in a hurry, the gun pressed to the side of my head as he moved away from her body.

“Stupid fucking bitch stabbed me.  Motherfucker!  Blood is gonna be everywhere.  Fuck.”

Meg…oh my god, Meg—the stupid, brave idiot.  He killed her, my friend…she was trying to save me and he killed her.  I dropped my head and vomited.  He stopped moving and cursed.

“These are new shoes, you bitch.  Christ.”

I heard a whoosh to my left where the gun was pressed against my head and braced for the bullet.  A loud crack sounded near my ear, different from the shot he fired earlier.  Seconds later, he shrieked and released me.  I fell forward, crashing to the pavement in a painful heap.  I caught most of my body weight with my hands, but the forward momentum still caused me to thump my head against the ground.  I lay still for a moment, until I heard a familiar sound—thunk-squish-crack…thunk-squish-crack.  I lifted my head to find the most miraculous back facing me.  Griffin was on top of the bad guy, beating him like he had Robbie. 

I wasn’t horrified this time; I wanted Griffin to kill him for hurting Meg.  I wanted it so badly, but I couldn’t let Griffin carry the burden of taking a life, even in my defense.  I sure as hell would let him knock the bastard out, but then I had to stop him.

I crawled closer to him until I could see if the guy was conscious.  Nope.  Out cold.

“Griffin, love.  That’s enough.  You saved me, he’s knocked out.  You need to stop now, because I need you to help me.  Meg was shot, and I don’t know if she’s alive…we need to get help.”

He turned to face me and blinked twice.  I saw the fog lift as he came back to me.

“You okay?” he asked me gruffly.

“No, but I’m going to keep it together until we get Meg help.”

“Stay there for a minute.”

He grabbed the guy’s arm and dragged him carelessly to where Meg was laying.  He seemed to fuss with the guy’s body for a moment before raising his arm and lowering it quickly.  What the hell was he…oh, he’d figured out a way to restrain him.  When Griffin backed away, my suspicion was confirmed.  The parking lot light reflected off the handle of a long hunting knife that was now imbedded through the guy’s hand, deep into the ground beneath.  He definitely wouldn’t have been able to get free without making noise.

Griffin turned and kneeled next to Meg as I rose, making my way to them.

“She’s breathing,” Griffin said, his relief evident.  “Do you have your phone?”

“No, it’s on the ground somewhere with my purse.”

“Come here and put pressure on her wound.  I’ll call for help.”

He whipped off his shirt and handed it to me before calling the police.

There was a puddle of blood spreading from beneath her, but I kneeled beside her anyway.  I pulled up her shirt and pressed my makeshift bandage to her stomach, where I found the most blood.  I prayed with all my heart that she would survive and be okay. 

As Griffin ended the call and approached, I whispered, “She was trying to save me.  He had a knife to my throat, and she stabbed him so he would drop it.  I have no idea where he pulled the gun from, but he just shot her without a second thought.”

I heard the sirens blaring nearby before doors began slamming.

“Over here,” Griffin called.

He rose slowly with his hands up.

“I have the attacker disabled on the ground.  The victim’s here; she’s been shot.”

The officer quickly assessed the scene before speaking, “Get the paramedics in here, the scene is secure.”

Moments later, my hands were guided away while professionals assessed her.

“She’s breathing, heartbeat’s steady,” one of the paramedics said to no one in particular.

The officer turned his gaze to the assailant, who showed the first signs of stirring, and smiled when he saw the knife protruding from the guy’s hand.

“Man, remind me never to piss you off.”

“He had a gun pressed to my girlfriend’s head when I got here.  He’s lucky he’s breathing.”

“Miss, are you hurt?” the officer asked me.

“I just have a small cut on my throat,” I replied.

“Are you able to answer questions or do you need medical attention first?”

“Let’s do it now,” I sighed, hoping I never had to provide a ‘statement’ to law enforcement ever again.

After I had given my account of the night’s events and answered the officer’s questions, he said we were free to go.

“Get it checked at the hospital and have them document the injury,” the officer instructed.

I nodded.  I was headed there to check on Meg anyway.

When we arrived at the hospital, we checked with the emergency room nurses and found out Meg was in surgery.  The nurse promised that the doctor would find us in the waiting room when there was news.

After about an hour, a doctor examined my neck, then decided cleaning the wound and sealing it with some skin-friendly crazy glue would do the trick. 

When we settled ourselves in the waiting room, I called Ev and Hunter to explain what had happened.  When her shock wore off, Ev promised to meet us at the hospital and Hunter was off to talk to the police.

Everleigh arrived a half-hour later, joining us in the waiting room.

“How is she?” Ev asked with concern.

“In surgery,” I replied.

It was four hours later when the doctor finally came out.  Meg was doing well.  The bullet had perforated her small intestine, but the doctor was able to extract the bullet, repair the damage, and stitch the entry wound.  He said she was lucky, all things considered, and that she would need to take it easy for the next six weeks.  I knew her family lived in North Carolina and they weren’t close.  Griffin and I immediately agreed to have Meg stay at my house, where I could assist her for the next few weeks during her initial recovery.

We were finally allowed to visit her when she was assigned a room.  She was woozy from the anesthesia, but was happy to see us, me especially.  She explained that she saw the man attacking me and grabbed a knife before charging to my rescue.  Sheepishly, she admitted it didn’t occur to her to call the cops, she was too focused on her rescue attempt. 

I explained the plan after her release in two days.  She tried to decline my help, but when I pressed her about who would help for the first few weeks, she admitted she didn’t have anyone she could ask.  My suspicions confirmed, I gave her no choice and she soon relented.  We left so that she could rest, but promised to return the following day.  Ev had brought her iPad for Meg to use in case she got bored.  It was still loaded with books and movies from my stay last year.

Hunter met us as we were exiting.  He looked tormented, but said nothing other than to inquire how Meg was doing.

“What’s going on?  Did the police find out who that guy is?” I asked.

“We don’t know anything conclusive yet.  I have to head back to the station to coordinate with the police.  I should know more tomorrow.”

I nodded.  We exchanged our goodbyes before heading to Griffin’s truck, where I fell asleep before we’d even exited the hospital parking lot.  I vaguely remembered Griffin carrying me to bed and stripping off my blood-crusted clothes before joining me.