Waiting for Jo (19 page)

“I missed you, Scotty. I’m sure you can guess
why I haven’t been stopping by lately. I even checked for Will’s
car in the parking lot before coming in.”

“You don’t have to worry about running into
him. He’s in New York right now.” Scotty pulls a bottle from behind
the bar and pours me a glass of wine. “Try this Pinot. It’s pretty
amazing.”

“Did he go to meet with that gallery?” I
swirl the red wine in my glass and then take a sip.

“Yep. He gets back the day after tomorrow. I
talked to him yesterday, and he’s feeling pretty positive about the
whole thing.”

“I’m so happy to hear that! I can’t wait for
him to tell me how it went. Assuming he’ll ever talk to me
again.”

“He will, Jo. Will’s a pretty sensitive guy.
It takes him awhile to get over things. Just give him some time.”
Scotty’s eyes scan the room. “I gotta take care of some other
customers. If I talk to Will, I’ll tell him that you say hi.”

“Thanks, Scotty. I appreciate it.”

I’m guessing that Will decided to take the
money I gave him, but the thought of him taking it and not even
telling me he’s going makes me feel like someone has reached into
my chest, pulled out my beating heart, and then tossed it onto the
floor. I pull my phone out of my purse and begin typing a text
message to Will, but I delete it before sending and turn the phone
off. He’ll talk to me when he’s good and ready.

***

“Come out with us, Jo,” Harley says over the
phone. I can barely hear her through the music that’s blaring in
the background. “Meg and Hillary are here, and we haven’t all hung
out together in a really long time.”

I check out my sad looking reflection in the
mirror as Harley pressures me to meet her. My hair is a mess, I’ve
already washed off my makeup, and I there is no way that I’ll be
able to muster up the energy to get out of my pajama pants. “I’m
just not in the mood tonight,” I say. “Plus, I don’t really feel
like having to talk about the whole Will situation with your
friends.”

Meg and Hillary are a couple of girls that
Harley hung out with in college. I never liked them much, but I
tolerated them for Harley’s sake. They always seemed kind of nosy
and judgmental, and pretending to like them is something that I am
not able to do tonight.

“Ughhh. When are you going to start living
again? Are you just going to sit around in your sweats every night
for the rest of your life?”

“I’ve considered it,” I say
matter-of-factly.

“I bet you have,” Harley says. “Look, I’ll
give you a little more time, but soon we’re going to go out and
have a good time. I don't care if I have to drag you by your
hair.”

I hear a man’s voice in the background. He’s
offering Harley a drink. “I gotta go,” she says. “We’ll be here for
a while. Just text me if you decide to come out.”

“Okay. Have fun with the ladies.”

I hang up the phone, toss myself onto the
sofa, and open my laptop. I see an e-mail from Will. I tell myself
to not overreact, but my heart nearly jumps out of my chest. I
hesitate for a few seconds before opening the message. I
desperately hope that he wants to get back together or at least
talk, but he could just be thanking me for the money. Even worse,
he might want to tell me it’s completely over and that he never
wants to speak to me again.

When I open the e-mail, I’m surprised to see
a very short message.

Jo,

I will be getting home from New York at about
midnight tonight. I would like to talk to you about a few things.
Please meet me at my apartment. You know where the key is.

Will.

The message seems very cold and terse, but
there’s got to be a reason that he wants to talk to me face to
face. If Will wanted nothing more to do with me, he would just
continue to ignore me. I churn it over in my head for a few minutes
and convince myself that this is a positive sign. The clock on my
computer reads 11:06 p.m. Shit! I better get myself showered and
dressed. I can’t expect Will to want me back if I look like a
homeless beggar.

Chapter 29

I text Will to let him know that I received
his e-mail and that I’ll be waiting for him at his apartment. I
then race through my grooming routine and check myself out in the
mirror. I would have liked more time to get ready, but I think I
look pretty good in the white jersey, knee-length dress that I’ve
chosen. My hair is up so that my neck and shoulders are showing,
just the way that Will likes. And I’ve kept my makeup simple and
natural looking. I manage to leave the house at about 11:35. That’s
got to be a record for me.

I race to the Alcove and find the key above
the light fixture on the back door. I try to find my phone to see
if Will has texted to let me know he’s landed and is on his way,
but it’s not in my purse. Damn, I must’ve left it at home. Oh well,
he should be here in the next few minutes anyway.

I sit on the sofa and wait. I try to distract
myself, but this is torturous. Twenty minutes pass and Will still
hasn’t shown up. Maybe his flight has been delayed. I lay my head
back on the sofa and rest my eyes. It’s been a long day and the
tiredness is setting in. Without meaning to, I fall asleep.

I dream that Will comes bursting through the
door. He says that he loves me and cannot live without me. He takes
me in his arms and promises me that he’ll never let me go. And I’m
completely at ease and sublimely happy.

The sound of a key turning in the door wakes
me, and after a second or two I realize that I was just dreaming.
The door opens, and I stand up from the sofa to greet Will. I don’t
know how he feels about me right now, but all I want to do is throw
myself on him and tell him how much I miss him.

“Will, I’m so glad...” I begin to say, but I
quickly notice that it’s not Will coming through the door. I furrow
my brow. “What are you doing up here?”

I don’t receive an answer, so I step away
from the door and let Scotty inside. I look at his face and it
doesn’t seem familiar. He looks like a different person. His usual
grin is absent, and his eyes are blank. He stares at me as he
closes and locks the door.

“Scotty, are you alright?” He just looks at
me silently for several seconds. “Talk to me!”

He continues to ignore me, and he takes a
step toward me, minimizing the distance between us. Everything
inside of me is telling me that something isn’t right, and I
instinctually take a step back. He takes another step toward me.
And then another. I continue to back away until he practically
leaps forward and grabs my right wrist with his left hand.

“Don’t move,” he says through clenched teeth.
My heart races as I look down at his hand clamped on my wrist. And
then it occurs to me, Scotty is left handed. My mind quickly goes
to memories of him at the Alcove.

He was always using his left hand.

He poured with his left hand.

He wiped the bar down with his left hand.

I’ve just never noticed until now.

“Let me go, Scotty,” I say. He uses his right
arm to pull my body toward his and the strong aroma of gin fills my
nostrils. “You’re drunk, aren’t you? You smell like a damn
Christmas tree.” I try in vain to push him away from me, but he
doesn’t budge.

Without warning, Scotty picks me up and
throws me over his shoulder.

“Put me down, Scotty! What the hell are you
doing?” I bang my fists on his back as he carries me across the
apartment, but it’s of no effect. He flings me onto Will’s bed, and
I scramble, trying desperately to get to my feet before he can make
a move, but I’m not fast enough. Scotty gets on top of me and pins
me down by my wrists.

“I know it’s been you. You’re the one who’s
been sending all the notes and texts and terrorizing me. How could
you? I thought you were one of my best friends.”

“One of your best friends? Really? That’s
what you thought? You’ve been coming into the Alcove and flirting
with me and parading your other men around me for the last two
years. You’re a heartless fucking tease is what you are. We’re most
certainly not friends!”

This man is absolutely crazy, which means
that there is no point in arguing with him. If I’m going to
persuade him to let me go, I’m going to have to convince him that
his plan to do whatever it is he plans to do will fail.

“Will is going to walk through that door any
minute. His flight got in tonight. He told me to meet him
here.”

Scotty lets out a long laugh. “Will isn’t
coming home tonight. I hacked into his e-mail and sent you that
message. He doesn’t get home until the day after tomorrow, and he
has no idea that you’re here.”

I’m totally screwed, I think to myself, but I
can’t let Scotty see how scared I am. “Actually, he does know that
I’m here. I sent him a text telling him that I got the e-mail and
that I was coming over. He probably realizes that someone is up to
something since he never sent the e-mail. The cops could be on
their way right now.”

Scotty’s face contorts. I guess he hadn’t
thought of that.

“I suppose we’ll have to make this quick
then, won’t we?” he says.

“Make what quick? What are you planning to
do?”

“I’m going to do what I’ve wanted to do for a
long time, right here, on Will’s bed. Then you and I are going to
go for a little trip.” Scotty uses his right hand to pin both of my
wrists together, and he moves his left hand up my dress. His nimble
hand swiftly makes its way to the side of my panties and he rips
them at the side seam.

Oh my God. This is really happening. What do
I do? Should I scream? Should I beg him to let me go?

“Don’t bother screaming,” he says as if he
could read my mind. “The Alcove is closed and so is everything else
in the neighborhood. No one will hear you.”

“Please stop, Scotty,” I beg. “You don’t want
to do this.” I try with all of my strength to pull my wrists from
his grip, but it’s no use. His grip becomes tighter and firmer.

“The hell I don’t,” Scotty says with a
crazy-looking grin on his face. His hand is now on his belt, but as
he concentrates on unbuckling it with one hand, I can feel his
grasp on me loosen slightly.

It’s now or never.

If I don’t try and fight him off immediately,
I may not get another opportunity.

I manage to slip my right hand from Scotty’s
hold, and I swiftly reach up to scratch at his eyes. But, just as
my hand moves toward him, he cocks his head to the side, and I
don’t even make contact with his face.

“You bitch,” Scotty says. He pins me down
once more with his right hand, draws his hand back, and slaps me
across the face. He hits me so hard that it feels like someone ran
a hot poker across my cheek. I cry out in pain. He puts his fingers
over my mouth to quiet my sobs.

“I bet you’re not going to try that again,
are you?” I ignore the question and continue crying. “Are you?” he
yells. I shake my head no, not wanting to anger him further.

I should just give him what he wants and hope
he’ll let me go. He’s too big and too strong for me to fight, and
if I continue to try, I’m going to piss him off and make things
worse for myself. I close my eyes, relax my body, and let my mind
slip away. I think about eating sandwiches with Will and Blake in
the park and the night that Will and I saw the Funky Butt Brass
Band at the botanical gardens. I can hear Scotty unbuckling his
belt and then unzipping his pants, but I try to ignore it.

Scotty slightly shifts his position and then
squeezes my face between his thumb and fingers.

“Open your eyes,” he says, “look at me.” I
open my eyes, but in an attempt to avoid looking directly at his
face, I shift my gaze to the other side of the room. Just as my
line of vision moves toward the door, I notice that it’s opening
slowly. I want to yell at whoever is there to come save me, but I
don’t want to alert Scotty. I turn my face back to his and let
whoever is entering do so without interruption.

But when the door gets to be about half way
open, the neglected hinges let out a loud, high-pitched squeak.

Scotty turns around and sees Will standing on
the other side of the room.

“Get away from her, Scott,” Will says.

Scotty jumps to his feet and pulls me up so
that I’m standing in front of him. He places his right arm around
my neck, reaches toward his right side and pulls a small hunting
knife from a holster that’s attached to his belt. I squirm slightly
as he brings the tip of the knife to my carotid artery. Will
doesn’t move. Why isn’t he doing anything?

“We’re going to walk across the room and then
we’re going to leave,” Scotty says to me, “Don’t try anything
stupid.” I feel the pressure from the knife point increase as we
negotiate our way toward the door.

“Move away from the door,” Scotty demands of
Will.

Will stands his ground. “You know I’m not
going to do that. There’s no way you’re leaving with her.”

“I will cut her throat if you don’t move. I’m
not kidding.”

I suddenly remember a move that I learned in
the self-defense class that Harley forced me to take a couple of
years ago. Can I pull it off? We covered attacks from behind, but
in class we used whisper touches and rubber knives. If I mess this
up, I could end up dead. I go over the move in my head a few times
as Will tries to talk Scotty out of attempting to leave with
me.

I visualize myself getting away from Scotty
long enough for Will to move in and incapacitate him. A shot of
adrenaline runs through my body and from somewhere deep down inside
of me, I feel a sudden rush of courage rise up. I do just as the
instructor taught us: I bend my knees to lower my center of
gravity, and I put both of my hands around Scotty’s left wrist.
Before he can react, I lean my head forward slightly and slam it
into his nose. He groans loudly, loses his orientation, and drops
the knife to the floor. I let go of Scotty and leap away from
him.