Regina swung the bat with all her might, aiming for his head just as Puddin’ screamed, “You motherfucker, get off her!” and charged.
The bat only grazed his head, but between it and Puddin’s full-body tackle, he was knocked off Renee and landed on his stomach on the floor with a thud. Unfortunately, he was down but not out. He jumped to his feet and punched Puddin’ square in the jaw, knocking her almost clear across the room, but she was up and charging him again in less than a second, this time with a switchblade she had slipped from her back pocket. Regina ran up to him from behind and caught him between the shoulder blades with the bat, sending him tumbling toward Puddin’, who slashed him across the face from chin to ear.
Miraculously, he seemed oblivious to the blows and the cuts. He yelled and pounced on Puddin’, who caught him across the chest, then across the throat with the switchblade, somehow missing his windpipe.
“Puddin’, duck so I don’t get you,” Regina screamed as she swung the bat again. This time she managed to get a clean shot at his head with what she thought was enough force to crack his skull, but instead of falling to the ground, he simply turned to her with a wide-eyed look, as if noticing for the first time she was there. Regina reared back to swing again, but before she could, Puddin’ stabbed him in the back, and Robert bowled into her, knocking her to the floor. Even with the blade in his back, Robert scrambled up and dashed out the door, with Puddin’ in hot pursuit.
Regina ran over to Renee, who was by now completely out cold, and knelt down and cradled her in her arms. “Oh, baby. My baby,” she cried as she looked at the teenager. Both her eyes were black, her upper lip busted, her entire face already beginning to swell. It looked as if her jaw was fractured, and the way her arm fell to one side, it looked as if it might be, too. Regina realized she should put the girl down and not move her for fear of aggravating her injuries. She grabbed the telephone and called 911, at the same time checking Liz. She sighed with relief when she saw the girl was breathing. There was a large bump and bruise on her forehead, but no other sign of injury. Robert probably knocked her out with one blow. Renee, of course, was a fighter, and it would have taken a lot more to bring her down.
“The fucking bastard got away,” Puddin’ said as she walked in the door breathless. “He got a busted head and a knife in his back, and he still managed to do a three-fucking-minute mile down Lenox Avenue. That fucking angel dust is a motherfucker.”
“Don’t touch her,” Regina warned as Puddin’ approached Renee. “She might have a fractured spine or something. The ambulance is on the way. Tamika and David will be here in a minute, too. I just got him on his cell phone.”
Puddin’ nodded and sat down on the floor beside the motionless teenager and began to sob, not bothering to cover her face. For the first time, Regina realized she herself hadn’t shed a tear. She must be in shock, she decided.
Ring.
Regina picked up the telephone, thinking it was Charles, since she had left an urgent voice mail message for him to call her back.
“Hey you.”
“Little Joe?” Regina’s voice cracked as she spoke his name.
“Regina? What’s wrong? Did something happen to Tamika?” The concern in Little Joe’s voice touched off something in Regina, and she began to sob along with Puddin’.
“No. It’s Ray-Ray,” she cried into the telephone. “Yvonne’s boyfriend came in while I wasn’t here and beat her up and tried to rape her.”
“What? Fuck!” Little Joe yelled into the phone. “Is she okay? That sorry motherfucker.”
“No.” Regina sat down on the couch and continued to talk between sobs. “She’s unconscious, and it looks like she’s hurt really bad. The ambulance is on the way.”
“Where is he now? Did the police catch him?”
“Puddin’ and I walked in the door while he was trying to pull down her panties. We managed to chase him out of here,” Regina said, wiping her eyes. “Oh, Little Joe, she looks real bad. I’m so afraid.” She started sobbing again.
“Oh God, Regina. Fuck. I’m still in Los Angeles. Otherwise I’d be there in a second.” Regina could hear the anger and frustration in Little Joe’s voice. “Why the fuck did I come out here?”
“I gotta hang up, the ambulance is here,” Regina said as she heard the sirens come up the street.
“All right. Call me from the hospital and let me know if she’s okay. Don’t forget, because I’m not going to go to bed until I hear something. And I’ll see if I can get a flight outta here in the morning. I promise.”
“Okay,” Regina said. Then for the first time in her life, she hung up before Little Joe did.
chapter sixteen
Regina, I got here as soon as I could. Are they going to be okay?”
Regina stood up and gave Yvonne a weak hug. “Renee’s liver is damaged. They have her in the operating room now. We’re waiting for one of the doctors to come out and tell us what’s going on.”
“Oh my God!” Yvonne’s knees buckled, and David rushed to sit her down next to Tamika. “Oh my God!”
“You shouldn’t have come, Yvonne. You’re in bad enough shape yourself,” Tamika said gently.
Yvonne shook her head dismally. “How could I not? It’s all my fault. I knew Robert was dangerous, and if I had just pressed charges and gotten him locked up the first time he hit me, none of this would have happened.”
“Don’t blame yourself, Yvonne.” Regina sighed. “The good news is that it looks like Liz is going to be okay. She’s regained consciousness, and they did X-rays and MRIs and everything. They want to keep her overnight for observation, though.”
Yvonne looked around the waiting room. “You still haven’t been able to reach Brenda?” she asked.
Tamika shook her head. “She doesn’t have a cell phone, and we’ve left a half dozen messages on her answering machine at home, but she hasn’t gotten back to anybody yet.”
Puddin’, who was sitting in one of the chairs with her arms crossed, looked up and said, “She’s probably out somewhere praying to Satan or whoever the fuck it is she’s worshipping this week.”
“Puddin’ . . . ,” Tamika started, but Puddin’ just sucked her teeth and looked away.
“If she hadn’t thrown Renee out in the first place, she wouldn’ta been at Regina’s house, and none of this shit woulda happened to her,” Puddin’ said dryly.
Regina looked up as a nurse walked by. “Excuse me, Nurse. Can anyone tell us exactly what’s going on? They said the operation was only going to take an hour, but it’s been almost two hours already, and no one’s telling us anything. Have there been any complications?”
“I’m sorry, miss, but like I told you the last time you asked, I’m sure one of the doctors will be out shortly to give you an update,” the nurse said with a pretty smile. “But I’m sure everything is going fine.”
David stood up. “Nurse . . .” He paused as he looked at her name tag. “Nurse Jordan . . .”
“Jordan’s my first name, sir.” The nurse turned her pretty smile toward him. “My last name’s Garrett.”
“Okay, Nurse Garrett,” David said impatiently. “You said the exact same thing a half hour ago, and I want to—”
“I’m sure the doctor will be out shortly,” the nurse said brightly.
Regina curled her lip, readying herself to curse the nurse out when she heard a commotion in the corridor. There was a grim-faced Charles striding toward them, flanked by two nervous-looking men wearing business suits.
“Charles!” Regina rushed to him and was pulled into a one-arm embrace. “Thank God you’re here. But how did you get here so fast from Philadelphia? I only reached you an hour ago.”
“By helicopter. There’s a landing pad on the roof of the hospital.” Charles stroked Regina’s hair and looked over her head at David. “What’s the news?”
“Well, that’s what we’ve been trying to find out,” David replied. “The nurse here’s been giving us the runaround.”
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br /> “Oh, I’m really sorry you feel that way,” the nurse said with her ever-present smile. “I was just trying to explain to the ladies and the gentleman that they’re going to have to wait until one of the doctors comes out from the operating room.”
“Nurse,” Charles said as he continued to hold Regina, “I’m a United States congressman, and I would advise you to go into that operating room and either come back with a report or send somebody out who can.”
Regina couldn’t resist turning in Charles’s arms so she could face the nurse and see her reaction. The smile had frozen on her face as she looked from Charles to the nervous-looking men behind him.
One of them cleared his throat and said, “Nurse Garrett, please go in right away and have one of the doctors come out and tell Congressman Whitfield and his family what’s going on.”
“Yes, sir, Dr. Rosenthal,” the nurse said, and hurried away.
Dr. Rosenthal extended his hand toward Regina. “I’m Dr. Rosenthal, Miss . . .”
“Mrs. Whitfield,” Charles answered for her.
Normally, Regina would have corrected Charles, since she had reverted to her maiden name after the divorce, but this time she smiled and kept silent.
“Mrs. Whitfield, of course,” Dr. Rosenthal said. “I’m the hospital administrator, and I want to apologize for my staff. You and your family should have been given regular updates. And, Mr. Congressman,” he said, turning back to Charles, “if you had just radioed us earlier, we would have had the update waiting for you on arrival.”
“I had no reason to believe that my family hadn’t already been updated, Doctor,” Charles said wryly.
“Of course,” Dr. Rosenthal said smoothly. “Why don’t we all go down the hall to my office, where you’ll be more comfortable? I’ll leave word for the doctor to meet us there.”
Tamika shook her head. “I think we’d better wait here. Frank Boyce, Liz’s father, won’t know where to find us.”
“We’ll be fine right here,” Charles agreed.
They all watched a doctor in surgical scrubs hurrying toward them. “Congressman Whitfield, it’s good to meet you, sir. I’m Dr. Stone,” he said when he reached them. “I understand you’d like to know your niece’s status.”
Charles nodded toward Regina. “Actually, she’s Mrs. Whitfield’s niece, but go ahead. They’ve been waiting long enough,” he said brusquely.
“Yes, sir,” Dr. Stone said quickly. “The patient, Miss Harris, has sustained damage to her liver and spleen probably all due to blows to her back and stomach—”
“Oh no.” Regina’s legs grew weak, and she sagged against Charles.
“Please don’t worry, Mrs. Whitfield,” the doctor said quickly. “All of the damage was minor, and chances are she’ll recover fast. We’re stitching her up right now. But in addition, Miss Harris has sustained a fracture to her left arm, right leg, and also a scratched retina in her right eye.” He cleared his throat. “We’re going to have an ophthalmologist look at her, but there’s no reason, at this point, to believe she’ll have any permanent loss of vision.”
Charles helped Regina to a chair, then turned back toward the doctor. “When will we be able to see her?”
“As I said, she’s being stitched up right now, and her casts have already been set, but we should have her wheeled into the recovery room within the next half hour or so.”
Dr. Rosenthal stepped up. “Normally, we discourage visitors in the recovery room, but I’d be glad to make an exception in this case. Perhaps if we can keep the visitors to, say, two at a time? Staying no more than five or ten minutes each?”
“Actually, she won’t be awake for another few hours,” Dr. Stone said.
“Well, we’d like to be able to look in on her, anyway,” Charles said.
“Excuse me,” Nurse Garrett said with her perfect smile back in place. “Are all of you family members?”
“Nurse, we’ll handle this,” Dr. Rosenthal said brusquely. “We’ll be glad to accommodate all of you, Congressman Whitfield.”
“Who the hell are you people, and what did you do to my daughter?”
The loud, slurred words startled everyone. Regina turned to see a short, portly, balding man staggering toward them. The smell of cheap wine was almost as loud as his voice, and his eyes were glazed, though he kept blinking them as if trying to focus. He lurched toward David, swinging and missing, and would have fallen over if David hadn’t caught him and placed him on a chair. After a few seconds the man tried to get up but fell flat down on his backside.
Puddin’, who had been sitting quietly in one of the chairs up until this point, nudged him with her foot. “Let me guess. Liz’s father, huh?” She snorted, then crossed her arms, closed her eyes, and leaned back in her seat so that her head rested on the wall. “What a fucking piece of work.”
“Nurse,” Dr. Rosenthal said. “Get hospital security up here now. And call the police.”
“No, that’s okay,” Regina said, helping David get the man to his feet. “I’m sorry, sir,” she said when they had him back in the chair. “Are you Mr. Boyce? I’m Regina Harris . . . um, Regina Whitfield. I’m Renee’s aunt.”
“Well, I’m Liz’s father,” Boyce said as he tried to regain his feet. “And the folks here told me you put my little girl in the hospital.”
“Sir,” David said gently, helping him back down into the chair, “we brought Liz here in an ambulance, but we’re not the ones responsible for her being here.”
“Well, then, who is?” Mr. Boyce said belligerently. “Who knocked her out?”
Yvonne hung her head but said nothing.
“Congressman Whitfield,” Dr. Rosenthal said, “I really suggest that we move your family upstairs and let security—”
“Who’s a congressman?” Mr. Boyce said as he tried to straighten up again. He peered at Charles through bloodshot eyes. “Yeah, I seen you on TV. You the one they be talking about saved them hostages or something, right? Well, do you know who did this to my Liz, then? Or don’t nobody care about her?”
“Mr. Boyce, we know who did it, and the police are out searching for him now,” David said. “I’m sure he’ll be locked up soon, if he isn’t in custody already.”
“Well, he better be,” Mr. Boyce said while trying to straighten his clothes. “And if he raped her, then I’m going to kill him and then sue every-fucking-body in here.”
“The doctor’s checked, and there’s no indication that your daughter’s been sexually violated, Mr. Boyce,” Tamika said soothingly.
“Well,” Mr. Boyce said defiantly, “I’m just saying—”
“Mr. Boyce,” Dr. Rosenthal said, “I can assure you we checked your daughter out thoroughly, and she was not raped.”
Mr. Boyce glared at him with his bloodshot eyes. “You’d better get that attitude out your voice, and I hope you checked my Liz as good as you done checked these people’s little girl. Just ’cause she ain’t got no politicians in her family doesn’t mean she ain’t supposed to get top-notch treatment. She’s just as good as anybody else.” He paused and looked as if he were going to say something else, but then covered his face with his hands and started sobbing. Finally, he recovered some composure. “Liz is my little girl. She’s all I got. She’d better be okay. She just better.”
“Shit!” Puddin’ shot him a look of disgust and got up to walk away, then suddenly turned back to him. “Look,” she said, bending down, “Liz is going to be fine. She’s fine right now. Isn’t she, Doctor?” she said, looking up at Dr. Rosenthal.
The man nodded.
“See?” Puddin’ told Mr. Boyce. Tears were now evident in her own voice. “So come on, stop crying. ’Cause you’re going to start us all crying again, and we’ve already done enough of that shit. Come on. Wipe your face”—she looked around—“wipe your face on your sleeve or something.”
Regina walked over to Dr. Rosenthal and said in a low voice, “Do you think it might be possible to find a room where Mr. Boyce might—”
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“Sleep it off?” Dr. Rosenthal said abruptly.
“Where Mr. Boyce might get some rest.” Regina shot him a withering look. “And I agree with Mr. Boyce. Get that attitude out your voice, or you’ll see just how bad my attitude can be.”
It was so painful looking at Renee that Regina found herself averting her eyes from her niece’s bruised and battered face, which was so puffed up her features were almost unrecognizable. The girl still hadn’t recovered consciousness and lay in bed in traction, her arm and leg suspended, her right eye covered by a bandage, and her right arm hooked up to an intravenous line.
“Oh God, she looks so helpless,” Regina said, turning to Charles. “No one deserves to be hurt like this.”
Charles nodded, his own face pinched and ashen as he looked at Regina, tears in his eyes. “I can’t believe Robert did this. I can’t believe he’s really become such a monster.”
David and Tamika stood near the door of the recovery room, holding each other, while Puddin’ sat in a chair rocking back and forth, her mouth set in a grim line.
“Is she going to make it?”
Regina looked up to see Brenda standing in the doorway almost motionless, her face drained of blood.
“Is my baby going to make it?” Brenda repeated.
“She’s going to be fine,” Regina said. She walked over and put her arm around her sister. “It looks bad now, but you know Renee’s a fighter. You know she’s going to pull through. I promise.”
“You promise?” Brenda said numbly. She sat down in a chair next to her daughter’s head and stroked her matted hair. “You promise?” she whispered.
Tears filled Regina’s eyes as she looked at her sister. “Yeah,” she said, rubbing Brenda’s back. “I promise.”
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