She looped her hand through her bag and felt in her pocket for her car keys. The keys brushing against the tender scrapped pad of her hand making her flinch. She tried to move her hand in a fist with the keys as protection as they slipped between her fingers. Every self-defence tip that her Dad insisted on her knowing flashed before her in determination that she wouldn’t be a victim. Leaving home for university he had wanted her to have the knowledge to empower and protect herself over any situation. A self-defence course taken years ago was now a blur.
“STOP!” she shouted. “Stay away from me!”
Think Carrie, think! Vulnerable areas his eyes, throat, groin and knees. Protect your personal space, come on come on. She coached herself her goal to keep him at arm’s length.
“Don’t come any closer” she warned holding her arms out moving into a triangle shape in defence trying not to flinch as he moved closer completely ignoring her shouts. Her palms open with the fingers on each hand spread, elbows pointing to the ground
Everything that she had been taught five years ago was trying to assimilate in her mind but she was trying not to panic or show any fear as she tried to concentrate.
Get out of this situation Carrie, Get out! Her mind was screaming in her head. Don’t be a badass hero. Things are different here versus home. Back home it wasn’t common to have a gun. Did he have a gun? Oh hell where did that thought come from! Did he? Get that thought right out of my head! Fight or flight the adrenaline surging through her body was preparing her.
“Give me the bag bitch, I want your money and the keys for the car” he ordered.
Hell no! Rob was in that bag. She didn’t care about the car or the money but Rob. The material things could be replaced but he couldn’t.
She didn’t see his next move coming. His arm swung back and his hand slammed across her face. The backhander made her yelp as it connected with her cheek shocking her with the force. A blinding light flashing behind her eyes with the power of the blow making her stumble.
“I know you have money, seen you throwing it around town. Now hand it over bitch or I will seriously fuck you up!”
Her arms weren’t long enough to connect with his face to try and reach for his eyes or throat in defence. But she also wouldn’t put herself in any further danger by moving closer to him.
“Fuck Off,” she screamed at him her accent changing from its normal soft tone to brusque Glaswegian. He probably wondered what the hell she was saying. “I’m not giving you anything”
The haven of getting to her car forgotten as he would be on her before she took a step in that direction. The parked truck had offered her attacker protection from anyone intervening as their altercation couldn’t be seen from the diner. She had to draw him out away from the shadows.
“I will cut you up bitch, now hand over the bag or I will teach you a fucking lesson”
She saw the glint of metal in his hand. He reached out to grab her shoulder, his thin fingers digging in and she yelped in pain as he tried to pull her closer. She could smell alcohol on his breath as his face drew closer to her.
“Give me your fucking bag bitch!” Spittle forming as he shouted at her. She twisted trying to pull out of the grip he had on her shoulder. She flung her bag to the side. Distracted he watched the bag bump and slide to a halt a few feet away.
“Fuck you,” she screamed. His grip loosening as he moved to go for her bag. Before he could react she raised her right leg and kicked with all her force at his knee. All the pent up rage and frustration centred as she delivered her own blow. Taking him completely off guard he crumpled to the ground dropping the knife. His knee smashed with the force of her kick. Immobilising him as he tried to stand.
“Arghh, you fucking bitch” she quickly kicked the knife away. He grabbed her leg and tried to pull himself up using her body as leverage but she kicked out at him again and again. Ignoring the pain as it was her weak foot too, the one with the pins securing everything back in place after her fall at home. He caught the sleeve of her jacket pulling her down and she used the momentum of falling to crash her head into his face. This was her last chance to get away from him. She heard the crunch as her forehead connected with his nose. Blood spraying out and she jerked back to avoid it but splatters landed on her arms and torso. He let go and she fell back quickly scrambling to her feet. Her head ached with the force of connecting bone to bone. Sending a wave of nausea through her body.
There are statistics that say screaming rape or calling out for help and no-one will come to your rescue. Or people will watch you being attacked; too scared to help you or they just don’t want to get involved. The statistics tell you to shout fire. People always attend to the shout of fire. Today she was alone in the car park, no strength to scream or shout out or call fire. In this situation she did the best thing to gain attention. Her attacker lay moaning on the ground, his knee buckled and blood pouring from his nose; all down his face. The adrenaline that pushed her through the attack was gone and she was feeling shaky. She knew she couldn’t walk back to the entrance of the diner for help. During their altercation they had moved out from the shadow of the trailer and were now in sight of the diner. She picked up a rock from the ground and flung it high towards the diner. Homerun – smash it hit the window and drew everyone outside.
The waitress who had thought this was going to be another boring Monday was soon shocked into action. She comforted the distraught stranger who was crumpled on the ground, helped her to her feet and back inside. A blanket was placed around her shoulders to try and stem the shakes racking her body.
“Tea, please can I have some tea,” Carrie asked for. The tears were pouring down her face but she was completely unaware of this.
“That’s okay honey; we will get that for you now. Don’t you worry, the police have been called and I think paramedics too. We need to get you patched up dear.”
Carrie nodded and tried to blink away the pain. Her eyes tired and heavy with the effort of keeping them open. She held onto her bag like a safety blanket. It was scuffed and damaged beyond repair. One of the handles completely ripped off and blood from the cuts on her hand smeared across it but throughout it all the contents were still the same and undamaged. She had checked that Rob was still intact. She vaguely remembered doing that as she sat in the booth.
“The ma-a-an,” she stammered.
“He’s outside, don’t you worry now” she repeated, “We’ve got him secured”
“The window, I’m sorry about that but I didn’t know what else to do. I will pay for a replacement of course.”
“Hush there dear, don’t worry about that, don’t you worry about anything, everything is going to be okay”
Her head was aching were she had hit her attacker and she felt like throwing up as the room began to spin. She slumped down in the booth as everything went black.
Carrie was out cold on the floor in the recovery position when the paramedics arrived. She tried to sit up disorientated and frankly getting a bit upset at all the faces surrounding her. Panicking she pulled at the oxygen mask on her face.
“It’s okay; we just need to get your stats back up, just breathe for me”
Carrie nodded.
“Can you tell me your name?”
She pulled the mask aside. “It’s Carrie Reynolds-Davies”
“Not from around here”
She shook her head. Ouch bad idea that hurt.
“Okay Carrie, we are going to take you to the hospital to get you checked out. You’ve fainted and might have a concussion. There are a few bruises and I think your left wrist might be sprained or have a fracture”
Carrie automatically attempted to move her arm and couldn’t. She winced in pain and gasped.
The next hour was a blur for Carrie. Her head ached so much and all she wanted to do was sleep.
“Hey Carrie, keep your eyes open for me, that’s it.” A light shone in her eyes and she blinked rapidly. She was having flash backs of ten years previous when she had her acciden
t and could feel a panic rising.
“It’s okay Carrie; you are in the ED at Mercy Hospital. The physician will be with you shortly. We are going to send you for x-ray and scans then we will give you something stronger for pain relief, is there anyone we can contact for you?”
“My Aunt is staying at the Captains Rest Inn. It’s in Cape Elizabeth. Her name is Belle Hamilton” She managed to say this before she vomited. Oh god!
After feeling like she had nothing left inside her to throw up her exhausted body flopped back on the bed. They had asked her so many questions her head was spinning trying to reply. What happened? Where was the impact of the blow? Eh look at the lump on my forehead! Did she have a headache? Was she dizzy? Did she have a previous concussion? This she did answer too explaining about her accident when she was seventeen and that she was knocked out cold when that happened. She apologised as she felt so nauseous that she had to stop speaking a few times until the sickness passed.
Nico had returned to his home after his fruitless search for Carrie at the Inn. Frustrated after verbally sparing with Belle about mishandling everything with Carrie whilst trying to persuade her to change her mind and return to the Esperanza. Belle was a damn good member of his team and her get out last night of the contract was one his lawyers had missed. A point he made this morning when he bawled them out over this error. Carrie hadn’t returned to the Inn and he could even sense the disapproval from the members of staff. Back at the house Chiara was waiting for him. Clearly his shouting out with her last night had little effect.
“Chiara I’ve told you, stay out of my way. You have royally screwed things up for me with Carrie”
She followed him into his study were Beau was lying sprawled on his large cushion. Close to Nico’s desk and the open fireplace he could be found there most days. He gave a soft growl as Chiara flounced onto one of the chairs. Chiara was not a favourite of Beau’s.
“Yeah, yeah!” she replied giving Beau a stare. “Look I’ve told you I’m sorry but you made me so so so mad. I thought well I would just teach you a lesson not to dismiss me. To take me serious. You wouldn’t listen to me about the TV show, which incidentally I still think is a great idea”
“Chiara” he warned.
“Well it is and you wouldn’t have to be in it much, just pop up here and there for the ratings or specials, it is supposed to be about me and my so-called fabulous life. Lea even agreed we could cover your wedding in the show. But that’s not going to happen since you finished with her.”
“I will not discuss this again with you Chiara, NO! I don’t know what rubbish Lea told you but I never asked her to marry me and it was NEVER going to be an option. She knew the score well enough.”
He sat in the large leather chair behind the desk. Rage still emanated from his body.
“As I told you last night, this room is private and you are no longer welcome as I cannot trust a member of my own family with private and confidential information that is in my possession”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I’m sorry Nico, I just wanted to do something for me and when you wouldn’t do the TV show I thought I would make you pay when I saw you all over Carrie at the dance. Lea was calling me and texting that you wouldn’t take her calls. She was a mess. Crying over you and what an ass hole you have been to her. She’s my friend I thought I was helping her too. I should also confess, I was causing some more mischief for you. I swapped the table places. Before you go firing the planner or something”
“What? You are unbelievable. What loyalty do you owe Lea? I am your brother. Chiara the last twenty years have been all about you, Mom and Dad have pampered and spoilt you but no more it stops now.”
“Okay, okay I will help Mama with the foundation or something but just say you forgive me, I won’t say anything else to Lea or side with her, please, please Nico you are my big brother and I don’t want you to be angry with me as well. I will even apologise to Carrie. Even though she did throw a drink all over me. Pops is still mad at me. He called me selfish, I mean me selfish. I don’t have a selfish bone in my body.”
Before he could reply the ringing of his mobile interrupted their conversation, it was Belle.
“Okay Chiara, I have to take this call.”
“Yay, I’m going, I’m going” She ran over to hug him briefly. Taking his okay as a sign of his forgiveness.
He shook his head as she left the room.
“Hey Belle, when did Carrie get back? Is she still mad at me?” When he left he made Belle promise to contact him as soon as she heard from Carrie.
“Nico, I uh” she drew a breath in. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as Belle was one of the most confident women he knew and she hesitated. Clearly a bad sign.
“What’s happened Belle?”
“It’s Carrie Nico, she’s in hospital. They just called me. She’s in the emergency department at Mercy hospital. She’s been mugged. They won’t tell me her injuries. I need to go, she needs me”
“Belle wait, I will take you, I will be there in five minutes, are you still at the Inn?”
“Yes I am”
“I will be right there, don’t go anywhere”
He was poleaxed. What on earth had happened to her? The fear creeping in his stomach that she had been harmed shocked him. Was she okay?
He opened the study door. “Jay get the car” he bellowed.
On the drive to the hospital Belle updated in him on what little she knew. Carrie had fought off an attacker in the car lot of a diner. They didn’t know the full extent of her injuries, some cuts and bruises etc. but not much more. It was a taught and tense journey to the hospital.
She lay on the trolley in the white hospital gown in a room separated by a grey curtain. She was quickly transferred to the hospital bed. Her eyes heavy with the waves of exhaustion hitting her. Her clothes had been taken away by the police as evidence after they had processed her. They had taken scrapings from her nails, swabs for DNA and lots pictures of her face and injuries. She gave them a statement of events. Oh she had gotten herself into a right old mess here. Where was Auntie Belle? Did she contact Nico? Would he be with her? The tears were once again threatening her. She could hear the TV playing for the next bed. The applause and canned laughter of a comedy boomed out. The room alien and un-familiar to her. It was bright and clean but it was no hotel room. She didn’t know who was behind the curtain and was in no hurry to make an introduction. Her battered hand bag was clutched tightly in her bandaged hands. Looking like a prop from a horror movie with a smear of dried blood and missing a handle. She slowly tried to look for her compact mirror. Slipping her hand briefly out of the sling to grab the mirror as her other hand was restricted with the drip in her hand. Opening it up one side the glass was cracked and broken. Did this count as seven years bad luck?
“Oh my,” no Doris Day this time just her shock at her injuries.
From top to toe not a part of her body had escaped her assault. She could see her cheek was bruised and red with a small cut that she had been assured would not scar. It didn’t require stitching or glue just a small butterfly closure. A large bruise and lump had formed on her forehead where she had smashed her head into his skull. Ouch it was tender to the touch. Pulling forward the hospital gown she tried to look at her injured shoulder and collar bone had two deep scratches were his fingers had dug in; again violent purple bruises had rapidly formed. Her hands and knees had taken the brunt when she fell. The pads of both hands had tiny cuts and lacerations from the rough stones of the car park. The only consolation her left wrist wasn’t broken just badly sprained. Her knees had suffered a similar fate as the pads of her hands but the thick cotton of her jeans had protected them more than her bare skin had. They too were cut and bruised. Her ankle from repeatedly kicking out at her attacker was sore but it had been weakened from her accident. To her eternal embarrassment she had vomited in the ER room after waves of dizziness overcame her. They had an IV drip in her hand which hooked her
up to fluids to replace those that she had continually vomited.
“We think you have a minor head injury, a concussion, that’s why you have been so sick and sleepy. The best thing for you will be to stay here for a few days to rest and recover from your injuries. We need to keep you under observation.”
“But I can’t stay here, I have to fly home on Thursday, It’s my sister’s birthday”
“Let’s see how you recover the next few days and we can talk about that flight home”
At the admissions desk Nico was trying to contain his growing frustration. They wanted Carries insurance details. His frustration was part in the bureaucracy but also that he had little ‘personal’ information on Carrie. Even though he had the file he could not recant her home address etc. He was intimate with her body but unable to do this task and it exasperated him. Belle provided the information and gave her details as next of kin. Nico handed over his credit card. The palladium credit card giving no doubt to his credit worthiness for the bill.
“Charge it to me; I will be paying the bill” His tone brooked no argument.
“Nico, Carrie has insurance,”
“Yes, for the basics, I want her moved to a private room. Immediately.” He instructed the desk to arrange this.
“Now can we go and see her?”
They were given directions for the ward where she had been admitted. He held his breath. Carrie looked so small and pitiful in the hospital bed.
“Auntie Belle,” she exclaimed as they entered the room. Belle rushed to her side and embraced her even though Carrie winced in pain.
“I’m sorry, oh where does it hurt? What happened?”
She hadn’t told him to leave and part of her was relieved he was there.
“Hello you,”
“Hello you,” she replied, as she always did. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. He noted the bruises all over her beautiful face. Her hands were bandaged, her arm in a sling the other hooked up to a drip.
The TV continued to blare from the other bed.
“Carrie, you can take your time telling us, I’ve asked for you to be moved to a private room”
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