“I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” I said as I scrambled to come up with an escape plan.
Almost conversationally, he said, “You know, Angie, you really are one dumb cunt.” He increased the pressure of the knife slightly under my chin and actually smiled. “I always knew you weren’t too bright, but I didn’t know you were so gullible.”
I didn’t respond and just stared at him, trying not to let him see my terror. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Distantly, I heard the sound of Steely Dan coming from my purse somewhere across the room. Jack. It was faint and I hoped Steve wouldn’t hear it.
“You made it easy, you know,” he went on in that same conversational tone. “When you’re so stupid that you hand over all your keys – and your car - to someone you don’t even know, you shouldn’t expect a good outcome.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lied, knowing now that he was talking about Heather – whom I had willing lent my car to on many occasions.
“Of course you don’t. Because you’re an idiot. If you hadn’t fucked me over, I would have already been gone by now. All I needed to do was get the final payment, clean out the bank account and get the hell out of here. It would have been all over.”
My hysterical urge to laugh at his Scooby Doo-like speech disappeared when he smiled again and twisted the tip of the knife just a fraction, opening the cut under my chin further. My neck was painfully arched from trying unsuccessfully to avoid the knife and my chin was already tilted as far back as it could go. I clenched my teeth and tried not to let out the whimper that was trying to escape.
The smile left his face and he narrowed his eyes at me. “There are only two people who had access to that money. You - because, for once in your life, you had a brief moment of intelligence and somehow figured out there was a large bank account with your name on it – and one other person. And she…well, let’s just say I was able to work it out to my satisfaction that she doesn’t know where the money is.”
“Heather.” The name slipped out, although I really didn’t want to be engaging in any kind of conversation with him.
“Oh, my gosh. I’m so proud of you,” he said sarcastically. He looked at me like I was an insect he had just spotted in his gravy and replied angrily. “Of course Heather, you moron. You practically begged her to steal your identity. If you knew how often she was in your house, ‘borrowing’ all your personal documents, using the keys you gave her…” He trailed off and stared over my head towards the door.
He seemed to be under the impression I had a suitcase full of cash somewhere in my house. I felt sure his plan was to get the money and then kill me. I doubted he was going to give me a confession and then let me walk away to share it with the police. I shuddered at the thought of my parents or Jack discovering my lifeless body.
The shudder brought his attention back to me. “Last chance, Angie. And let me point out that you haven’t even begun to feel pain yet. Heather could tell you all about how much more pain there can be.” His laugh was sinister and creepy - and I didn’t doubt for a second he meant what he said.
“It’s in my bedroom,” I blurted out, but not sure why.
“Well,” he said, smiling again. “That’s better.” He dropped the smile and glared at me. “Now here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to let you up and you are going to get up slowly. Do not try anything else funny or I swear to God I will kill you.” He abruptly stopped talking and a second later asked, “Are you expecting company tonight?”
I hesitated briefly before answering, trying to figure out why he was asking. I was afraid of what his plans might be. “No.”
“You’re a bad liar, Angie. Who is it? Jack? I always knew you were sucking that fucker’s dick. You barely left his house all weekend. Is he coming over tonight to fuck you some more? I remember how much you like that.”
He was back to the conversational tone and I hated myself for the fear I heard in my own voice when I responded. “No! No, he’s not coming over. No one is coming over.”
He seemed determined to believe I was lying - and that turned out to work to my advantage. This time his smile was one of smug satisfaction. “Now listen. After I let you up, you will go get my money. I will stay here and watch the doors. You’d better hope, for his sake, he doesn’t show up before I leave. Do not try to run. Remember that I know where your mother lives and I would be more than happy to stop by and find out if she likes dick as much as her daughter does.”
I sucked in an audible breath and knew he was serious. “Okay,” I said.
“Okay, what?” he asked.
“Okay. I’ll go get the money and bring it right back. Just please – don’t hurt my mother.”
This felt like divine intervention and I offered up a silent prayer of thanks. If he wasn’t going with me to my bedroom, then I still had a chance. A plan finally started to take shape in my head.
“Be a good girl and I won’t,” he said, as if he was the most reasonable man on earth. “I just need that money and then Heather and I will be on our way back to Vegas.”
He slowly lifted himself off of me and I could tell he was still feeling the pain in his balls. Good. I rolled equally slowly to my right side and gained my feet. My face had gone numb, thankfully, but my hip hurt so badly I knew I was going to have trouble doing anything that required speed. But I would do it, pain or no pain. If I could help it, he would not emerge from this victorious. Again.
I walked very slowly in the direction of my bedroom, exaggerating the limp, while he watched, smirking. He was leaning against the wall between the kitchen and the living room, where he could see both doors and he was still holding the knife.
As soon as I was out of his sight, I ignored the pain and ran as quietly as I could to my bedroom. I didn’t turn on the light but went directly to my window. For once grateful for my procrastination in not retrieving the screen, I unlocked the window and slid it open without a sound. I knew I couldn’t get out the window and outrun him in my current condition and I didn’t intend to try. I only wanted him to think I had left that way.
I jumped when I heard Steve yell, “Hurry up. You’ve got thirty seconds to be back out here or I’m coming in to get you.”
I trashed my original plan of getting into the hidey hole in my closet when my eyes landed on the shadowy outline of the shelves that were still leaning against the wall just inside my bedroom door. I knew what I had to do.
I was going to need every ounce of strength I had, so I didn’t waste any of it by responding to him and shot back across the room. I picked up one of the shelves and, holding it like a baseball bat, stood in the dark just to the left of the open door.
Then I waited.
I didn’t have to wait long. I heard him running down the hall and he stopped at my bedroom door. He was so close to me, I could smell his stench. I held my breath and hoped he would fall for the open window ploy. He did.
“Son of a bitch!” he exclaimed, taking two steps inside and turning on the light. And when he did, I cocked the shelf back and swung with a force fueled by pure adrenalin. The shelf connected with a sickening crunch to the side of his head and he crumpled, landing face-first on the carpeting, the knife still in his hand.
I didn’t wait to see if he was going to stay down. I dropped the shelf and got the hell out of there. I stumbled my way through the darkened house to the front door, hysterical tears streaming down my face. If I could just get safely to my parents’ house, everything would be okay. They would know what to do.
I flung open the door, pushed the screen door out of the way and rushed blindly through it. I screamed when I collided with a large male body standing at the bottom of my steps and immediately started punching and kicking. He grabbed my upper arms firmly and gave me a shake.
“Angie! Stop! Settle down. It’s me!”
I looked up into Finn’s face and saw shock register as he took in my battered appearance. He put his arms around me and I c
ollapsed, sobbing with relief, against his chest.
“Jesus,” he said. “What’s going on?”
“I think he might be dead,” I sobbed.
“Who? Who might be dead?” He pulled me away from his chest and forced me to look at him.
“Steve. He came for the money.” I knew Finn didn’t even have an inkling of who Steve was, but I was shaking and anxious and my brain was still directing my body to get to my parents.
“Where is he?” Finn asked urgently.
“On the floor in my bedroom.”
“Stay right here. Do not move. I’ll be right back.” Finn started to walk away from me and I grabbed the sleeve of his jacket.
“No! Don’t leave me! He has a knife. Oh, God. Oh, God.” I was sobbing and hysterical and I didn’t care. There was a very real possibility I had just taken a human life and, as much as I had believed I would never regret it, I was terrified at the thought. I prayed he was only unconscious and tried to drag Finn in the direction of my parents’ house.
“Angie, stop!” Finn commanded, disengaging my hand from his sleeve. “Listen to me. I have to go make sure he’s not going to get away. Stay right here. I promise you’ll be safe. Jack is on his way, so don’t move until you see either him or me.”
“No! Jack’s in Chicago.” I tried to remove my hand from his, but he tightened his grip.
“He’s on his way back. I don’t have time to explain. Just stay here and wait for one of us. Do you understand?”
“Yes. Okay,” I whispered, forcing myself to calm down and see reason. The numbness that had given me a temporary reprieve from the throbbing pain in my face had faded and I was suddenly finding it uncomfortable to move my mouth and speak.
“Okay,” Finn said, looking into my eyes and squeezing my hand lightly before releasing it. Then he sprinted up the steps and disappeared into my house.
Alone in the darkness, I stood rooted to the spot where Finn had left me, shaking, and trying to calm myself down. I wrapped my arms around my stomach, bent over slightly and took deep breaths. I fought the urge to ignore Finn’s orders and try to make it to my parents, knowing it was best to listen to the person who was still rational.
Suddenly exhausted, and feeling unable to stand on my own power, I dropped to my knees on the lawn, still hugging my arms across my stomach. The minute my knees hit the grass, a car that was moving too fast for the speed limit roared down the street and pulled into my driveway. I looked up to see Jack jump out of his car and run towards me at the same time Finn emerged from the house, alone.
The tears started again as Jack dropped to his own knees in front of me and wrapped his arms around me. “Angie! Honey, what’s going on? Are you okay?” I whimpered when my cheek made contact with his shoulder and pulled back.
“Jesus,” he whispered, getting a good look at my face. He released me and ran his hands down my upper body, looking me over, trying to locate injuries. “Baby, are you hurt anywhere else?” I just continued to cry. He squinted at my neck and tilted my chin up gently as he looked at the knife wound there. “Jesus,” he said again.
I could feel Finn standing at my back and Jack looked up. “Did you get him?” he asked.
There was a short pause before Finn replied. “He’s dead.”
Oh, God. I had killed him. The hysteria came back and I tried to push Jack away and get up. “Oh, God,” I sobbed. “Let me go!” As ridiculous as the thought was, all I wanted to do was run. “I have to go. I don’t want to go to jail!” I tried again to break away.
“Angie! Calm down. It’ll be all right.” He held my upper arms firmly and looked back up at Finn. “I’m taking her to her mother. Call the police.” He rose to his feet and he and Finn helped me to stand. I took as deep of a breath as I could and tried to settle myself. Being hysterical wasn’t going to help anything.
“You’ll be okay,” Finn assured me, squeezing my shoulder gently. “The police will see it was self-defense during a home invasion. I promise you won’t go to jail.”
“Okay.” I took another deep breath and repeated it. “Okay.”
“Honey, can you walk to the car?” Jack asked me, taking hold of my hand.
“Yes. I’m fine. I’ll be okay.” Focusing on staying calm was helping to keep the scarier thoughts out of my head - for the moment. But I already knew I was going to have to deal with what had just happened and do it soon. I had learned my lesson about not facing head on the things I didn’t want to think about.
Jack pointed out my parents’ house to Finn, directing him where to send the police, and they each took one of my arms and led me slowly to Jack’s Jeep.
Then Jack took me to my mother - and I never stepped foot in my house again.
Epilogue – Three months later
I emerged smiling from the bathroom on a Sunday morning, and returned to the bed where Jack was still sleeping. He was lying on his back with one arm cocked behind his head and the other stretched out to where my body should be.
I had returned to Jack’s house the night of “the incident,” as we now referred to it, and never left. We were married one month later in front of a Justice of the Peace, with just our parents as witnesses. Jack had wanted to go through with our original plans to do it right away, but I convinced him to wait until my face healed. I didn’t need that reminder staring out at me from our wedding pictures.
Two weeks later, we were in Ohio where Jack stood as best man for Nate when he finally married Kayla, whom I found to be every bit as lovely as Nate had said she was.
I had come to terms with the fact that I had taken a life, but it wasn’t easy. I knew Steve would have killed me if I hadn’t killed him first, but it wasn’t something I took lightly. A life had ended and I was responsible for that. For the first time in my life, I took the initiative and immediately arranged several sessions with a therapist to help me deal with my conflicted feelings. With the therapist’s help and Jack’s support, I felt able to put it behind me and move on with my own life.
Heather also hadn’t fared well. When the police went to her house to question her, they found her in her bed, badly beaten and unconscious. They got her to a hospital, but she died within hours, the result of a broken rib that had punctured her lung. I had moments where I would catch myself feeling sorry for her, then I would remember her laughing at the casino as she spent Jack’s money; the picture of Frank’s granddaughter she kept on her desk as a way to keep Frank living in fear; and the way she was so sweet to my face while she was out there trying to destroy my life - and then I just couldn’t muster up any sympathy at all.
And now, still smiling, I climbed on to the bed and straddled Jack’s waist. His eyes opened and his hands came up to grasp my hips. “Morning, baby,” he said, giving me a sleepy, sexy smile.
“Morning, Daddy,” I replied.
His smile widened and his fingers flexed on my hips. “You took the test without me.”
“Yes.” Even though I had warned him that getting pregnant might take some time, he had been so disappointed when my period started the previous month that I had decided to take the test while he was still asleep - giving me time to figure out how to break the news to him if it was bad. Fortunately, it wasn’t.
“Do you think it’s accurate?” His expression was so hopeful that my heart melted a little and my own smile widened.
“I think so. But I’ll call the doctor first thing tomorrow morning and make an appointment.”
He curled up to a sitting position and wrapped his arms loosely around my waist. “What’s a bigger word than love?” he whispered into my ear.
“I don’t know,” I said, running my fingers lightly through the back of his hair. “Why?”
He pulled back and looked into my eyes. “Because whatever it is, that’s how I feel about you right now.”
Then he kissed me and I didn’t think there was any way I could ever be happier than I was at that moment.
And this time when he made love to me, the words he wh
ispered into my ear were words that spoke of love and gratitude – and I found I liked that very much, too.
Epilogue – Eight months later
I was lying in the hospital bed, my body exhausted, but my mood exhilarated. Our very excited mothers had just left the room, wanting to give us a few minutes of privacy after witnessing the birth of their first grandchild. They hurried off to share the news and a few pictures with two anxious grandfathers - who had been rightfully relegated to a waiting room.
Jack stood next to my bed, cradling the baby in his arms and smiling the same smile that had been on his face for the past forty-five minutes.
We had elected not to learn the sex of the baby in advance, preferring to be surprised. And although Jack had spent the past eight months blathering on about “my son this” and “my son that,” while offering up ridiculous name choices, I appreciated that he was with me every step of the way. Sometimes I thought he was a little too with me. From the time he first heard the baby’s heartbeat, his hands were on my stomach so much I started to feel they were a permanent appendage.
The whole pregnancy had been uncomplicated and exciting, the delivery relatively easy, and now we had our first child.
“Are you disappointed?” I asked.
“Oh, hell no! Are you crazy? I’m in love.”
“Don’t curse in front of your daughter, Jack.”
He looked down at the beautiful face of the bundle in his arms and then back up at me. “My daughter,” he said with a tinge of wonder in his voice.
“Yeah,” I said. We took a moment to exchange sappy smiles and then I asked, “Do you think I could hold your daughter for a few minutes?”
He pretended to consider that, then laid Ava gently in my arms. “Well, okay, but only for a few minutes.” He kept one hand on the baby as he leaned forward to kiss my forehead. “Thank you, honey. I couldn’t be happier.”
Isn't It Time Page 28