Running Into A Brick Wall

by Jacqueline DeGroot

  I was just praying Jillie would not be included in this game of last man standing we might end up playing. I had to find a way to get her away, I said to myself as I smiled over at him, showing avid interest in the tale of how he had managed to find me this time.

  He warmed to the idea of being a storyteller and evaded the critical information as long as he could by telling me about all the trouble I had caused him, the issues with the attorneys, the business having to run without a masthead, although he did mention that all the publicity had actually helped instead of hindered sales.

  “No accounting for people,” I said, shaking my head. “So . . .” I prompted. “How did you track me down this time?”

  “I used your cervix.”

  “You what?”

  “You may recall that little shot I zinged you with, it knocked you out for a good while, long enough for me to take some liberties if you know what I mean . . .”

  I fumed because I knew exactly what he meant. I knew as soon as I’d woken from that twilight sleep that I’d been sodomized and that my nipples had been pierced with thin gold threads inserted through some of his finest diamonds. My saving grace was that the Gateway he had designed for my labial lips was on display in one of his stores out west at the time, otherwise he’d have installed the rainbow studs made of precious gems.

  But it did no good to revisit that with him now. I wanted to know how he had found me despite all my cautionary measures. “Yeah. I remember. Back to the cervix?”

  “Yeah, that was brilliant on my part. I knew that if you could see or feel a piercing you’d remove it, as you’d done all the others. By the way, that ruby was worth easily $30,000, and you disposed of it as if it was costume jewelry.”

  “Lucky for you it had a tracing device in the setting, huh?” I couldn’t help but goad him, he had treated me like shit and I had to let him know I wasn’t sorry about anything. But still, I had to temper myself and pull the reins back on my control because I needed to know what else he’d done while I’d been knocked out. “Back to your brilliant idea?”

  “Yeah, it was inspired. I altered one of the ear piercing guns, the ones we use to shoot and pierce ear lobes, the one that leaves a gold stud at the same time. I made the barrel nine inches and installed a gas-propelled sleeve of studs. I filled the chamber with three studs, all with tracking devices in the hollowed out head. Of course I had to customize almost everything to get this to work, but it did. While you were in La-La Land, and naked of course—as that’s how I’ve always preferred you—I used a speculum and inserted the barrel and fired the studs right into your cervix. Good thing I designed three, as only one embedded and attached permanently. I wanted to be sure that if you ever got away that I’d have no trouble finding you.”

  I was horrified, absolutely horrified. How despicable, how diabolical and evil. I vaguely remembered having some cramping when I woke that persisted for a few days, now I knew why. It was as if I was on my period, sans menses.

  I knew that a woman’s cervix, though numb the majority of the time responded to the slightest touch and that it could give you the sensation of having severe cramps when irritated. A fresh piercing in that sensitive tissue could have had excruciating effects if the hormones weren’t pumping and keeping it soft and welcoming. Which they did when a woman was aroused, just in case a more than ample penis found its way to grazing that well-guarded porthole to the life-giving womb.

  That he could have done that to me—whether he told me about it or not—certified him in my mind as demented. Any respect, love, fondness, liking of any sort, was now erased for good. I abhorred the man and had I had a gun in my hand at that exact moment, I don’t doubt that I would have been able to pull the trigger and blow his head off. Either one.

  “So it’s still there?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “So why has it taken you so long to find me?”

  “Well, it doesn’t work as well as I had thought it would. Probably because everything had to be miniaturized to such a degree. Reception was spotty at best. I could only capture the signal if you were outside, and not surrounded by mountains. Living in this,” he gestured around the interior of the RV, “didn’t help. Being encased in metal blocks the signal. It took a while, because I had to plot your course in dribs and drabs. So to answer your question, I found you by using your vagina.”

  “You’re despicable!” I deeply regretted having that man at the Radio Shack in Kansas use the scanner to detect bugs while I was down at the other end of the strip mall grocery shopping. Had I stayed with him he would have detected it on me!

  “You gave me no choice. You ran away. And since you belong to me, I had no choice. I had to get you back. You are mine and mine you will stay.”

  “Even if I wanted to be with you, which I definitely do not, you’re going to prison. They’re going to catch you and put you in jail, there will be no more making bond, no more house arrest.”

  “You’ll drop the charges. I’ll get a slap on the wrist for the physical abuse, and I’ll contribute to as many campaigns as I need to. You’ll see. I’ll win you back. Things will be as they were, even better. I promise.”

  “You shot two cops!”

  “Oh yeah, well there is that. We probably should just plan on going to Mexico.”

  I looked at the man I had married who now was broken in body as well as spirit because of his obsession with me. “Jared, that isn’t going to happen.”

  I thought of Brick and the intense feelings I had for him. Thinking about him and picturing us together felt so right, thoughts of him gave me peace as well as a joyful giddiness I’d never felt before, at least not like this. “I don’t love you, Jared. I’m not even sure I ever did.”

  I knew as soon as the words left my mouth that it was the wrong thing to say. I saw devastation sweep through his expression, gut the life out of his eyes, before each feature in his face hardened and his eyes burned with fury. I knew instantly that the give and take and sharing of information was over, and that it was now being replaced with rage. I had inadvertently aroused the mad man inside him again and this time, I was going to pay for it.

  He stood over me and raised his hand, brought it back in a high arch to give it power and struck me full in the face. I screamed, scrambled off the bench, and even though the whole side of my face was burning and my eye was closing in reaction to the pain, I propelled myself to the other side of the RV to the kitchen area. I managed to get my hand on the drawer and pull it open before he grabbed my hair and pulled me back. Despite the pain of him trying to drag me by my hair, I fought the harsh tug by jerking my head back and forth until I broke free of his hold. My hand, still on the drawer which had slid out with my backward movement, groped inside and made contact with a knife handle. I jerked it up, spun around and brought it down. It sunk into his shoulder and he howled. I yelled at Jillie, “Get out! Get out! Run! Run into the woods! Hurry!”

  I watched him try to pull the knife out. But it was in too deep and I could see the pain was excruciating. Then as if something from inside had renewed his spirit, his face set into a steely grimace and with one powerful thrust, he jerked the knife from his upper chest. Blood spurted and soaked the whole right side of his shirt. He didn’t seem affected by it. He switched the knife to his other hand and came after me. I ran for the bedroom, closing the bathroom door behind me. I didn’t have time to lock it, but as I pulled the bedroom door to, I managed to get the pin in the hinge. I knew it wouldn’t hold but it might give me enough time to get the gun from my nightstand. I flung myself across the bed and rolled, falling to the floor beside the bed, catching myself and landing on my feet in a squat. I pulled open the drawer, grabbed the gun and flicked the safety off. Then I stood, holding it between both hands, waiting for him to come through the door.

  He didn’t. I listened. I couldn’t hear anything. I waited a few more seconds. He wasn’t even trying to get in. Why not? Oh Dear God, Jillie!

  He was going after Jillie
. My terror was complete when I heard the front door close and the screen door slam behind it. “Jillie!”

  Chapter Thirty-four

  I ran around the bed, pulled the hinge pin and pushed the door open, keeping the gun raised and ready for anything. He wasn’t in the RV, but I pretty much knew that already. He was going for Jillie. I ran into the living room and saw him through the windshield. His back was to me but I could tell by the way he held the knife in his hand and by his stumbling but purposeful gait that he was recovered, at least enough to give chase. I ran out the door and was a few steps behind him when he managed to catch up with Jillie who was trying to get through a thicket of bramble that had her trapped.

  I could see she’d made a bad choice in running that direction, the forest was thick with undergrowth—even if she got free, he’d catch her again. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her roughly from the bush while he raised the knife high in the air with his other arm. I fired.

  I watched his back jerk upright and the hand holding Jillie’s arm released her. Swaying as if top heavy, he lunged and grabbed for her again. I fired again and so did someone else. It sounded like two shots, one right after the other.

  This time his body fell as if he were a marionette someone had cut the strings to. He fell to the ground and didn’t move. I turned to see who had fired. Whoever had fired at the same instant I had was off to the right partially hidden in the trees.

  A man in camouflage pants with a khaki sleeveless tee spotted with sweat and torn at one shoulder stepped out from a thicket of trees. Brick. The grime on his face and the shadowy growth of beard were a silent testament to the time he’d been in the woods searching for us. But he’d come for us.

  We walked toward each other and met, standing by Jared’s body. Jared had been shot under his shoulder blade and in the center of his back.

  “I killed him,” I said.

  “No. Technically, I did—double tap through the heart, back to front. You paralyzed him though. He’d’ve never been able to walk.”

  He looked up then and saw Jillie standing staring in shock, gripping a sapling for support.

  “Jillie,” his voice reverent in his shocked whisper.

  “Baboo,” her voice had its own sense of awe.

  Then they were in each other’s arms. He was kneeling on one knee and holding her propped between his legs, clutching her tightly to his chest and whispering, “Jillie, Jillie, Jillie,” over and over again. She clasped his shoulders and sobbed as if her heart was breaking. When he finally released her to stroke her hair, caress her face and wipe her tears with his thumbs, I saw tears streaming down his face, too.

  My big macho man was crying and he didn’t care who saw it. It was one of the most beautiful sights I’d ever seen. It was humbling. I could sense in that moment that he knew the things that mattered most in this world, and for him, that little girl was one of them. With those tears he acknowledged that he wasn’t always right, that he didn’t always do the right thing, but that he would always try to fix the evil in the world if he could. I was so happy that I had helped him fix this.

  He was a new man in my eyes, being able to accept help from others was a huge step away from the arrogant man who thought he knew it all. Hell, when we’d first met he thought I was a stripper. I had to smile at the memory. I heard him whispering . . . then pleading, and I knew he was begging her forgiveness.

  I looked away to give them this moment, and found myself staring down at Jared, his blood pooling on the ground around his head, his face in the underbrush, the blood stain on his broad back no longer blossoming but turning dark.

  I don’t know what possessed me, a kind of fear I guess, but I just had to make sure. I walked over and knelt, then I turned his head using fingers threaded through his hair. His eyes were open but lifeless; I wasn’t prepared for the bleak blankness or the perpetual grimace that was both shock and pain. Images of our wedding day flashed through my head—the happy couple, me laughing, young, beautiful and innocent, and him as handsome as a god, confident, superior and besotted with the woman on his arm.

  I felt something heaving up inside me and I jumped up just in time to reach the bushes before my stomach turned itself inside out. Brick was beside me in seconds, holding my hair back and supporting me around the waist. I could never remember being so violently sick, for several long minutes everything churned and revolted inside me until I felt I had purged my soul. Finally, it abated, and I was able to straighten. I pulled away from Brick and ran for the RV. I had to get clean; I couldn’t stand myself right now.

  Running through the RV I tore my clothes off. As soon as I could jerk the shower door open and turn the shower on I stepped in, heedless of the temperature, which was quite cold. I didn’t care. I was in full knowledge of the fact that I could feel the cold water and the goose bumps pebbling my skin, whereas Jared could not. Would not. Ever again. He had been my husband. I had loved him with all my heart at one time. Now I no longer did. How did these things happen, how could such a grand love diminish and then die? Was there nothing in life one could count on? When vows of eternal devotion were made, weren’t they supposed to mean something? I sobbed as I reached for the soap and scrubbed every inch, soaped vigorously the skin on my arms, and dug with fevered fingers into the long strands of my hair. I was trying to cleanse my body of something, but of what, I had no idea. I hadn’t gotten any of Jared’s blood on me.

  Tears streamed down my face while cold water pelted me and soap ran out of my mouth as I cried and shook. I was a widow now. Everything about my storybook wedding had been false, it had all gone wrong and I felt the failure deep into my core. I slumped to the bottom of the tub and hugged my knees. Then the shower door opened and I was lifted into strong, capable arms that bundled me into a thick, warm beach towel.

  Brick briskly rubbed my skin to bring color back while crooning that it would be all right, that everything would get better, that I was just in shock and processing the stress of the last few days. I felt smaller, gentler hands drying my hair with another towel. I grabbed Jillie’s hand and squeezed it. She brought it to her lips and kissed it. Then the sobbing began all over again, only this time for a different reason—this time because I realized that I was not a failure, that I was not a complete and utter fuck up. I had made some very special people very happy today—one of them, I was in love with. And that scared the crap out of me, because the last time I had love in my heart, I’d done a lousy job of taking care of it.

  Brick was kissing the side of my neck now, and telling me to breathe, to take deep breaths, to try not to think about everything right now, to just focus on the fact that we were all alive, that Jillie was reunited with her family because of me, and that he loved me.

  He picked me up where I’d been propped on his knee and carried me back to the bedroom. Jillie gave us some privacy while he dressed me in fresh jeans and a sweatshirt. Despite the heat, I was chilled. Brick told me it was a combination of the cold shower and shock and he said he wanted me dressed warmly. Then he lifted me in to his arms and carried me to the sofa where he covered me with two throws. Jillie sat on the floor by my head and brushed my hair with the touch of an angel. Brandy was brought to my lips and I didn’t hesitate, I put my fingers to the bottom of the shot glass and tipped it back until I had drained it. I took a deep breath and sighed. “I’m all right now. I was just overwhelmed. I can’t believe he’s dead, that I actually shot him.”

  “He was threatening Jillie, you had no choice. And remember, honey, he was insane, he had gone over the edge, he was not the man he used to be. His obsession broke him, destroyed your marriage and demolished everything you two had built in your relationship. You don’t have anything to feel guilty about. You didn’t do anything wrong, in fact you were perfect, you were smart and cunning and so unbearably brave.” He kissed my forehead and stroked my arm, then gripped my hand when we heard a helicopter approaching.

  “I called the local authorities and the feds are on their
way. It’s going to be hectic around here for a while, but I want you to let me handle everything. You and Jillie stay inside, when it’s time for you both to be questioned, I’ll be right here with you. Just tell the agents exactly what happened, believe me, everyone knows the situation, everyone will be understanding, most will be happier than pigs on a teat that this is all over for you.”

  He squeezed my hand again, smoothed the hair off my forehead with rough fingers and bent to kiss me on the lips. “Remember, when all these macho hunks start pouring in here, that you belong to me. No ifs ands or buts, you’re mine.” He left to join the authorities who were coming to coordinate the investigation and to sanctify the death of a prominent businessman, and to hopefully orchestrate the extraction of Jillie and me. I had managed to get this hulking RV into this remote little clearing; but no way was I going to attempt to get it out.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  By four o’clock that afternoon, the RV was parked in a county police parking lot, and Brick, Jillie, and I were in a helicopter making our way toward San Francisco. I had thought Brick would get Jillie and take her home, spend a few weeks settling her in and spending time with his newly-reunited family while I spent some time at a nice RV resort to regroup. But he would hear nothing of it.

  “No, you’re coming with me. No way am I leaving you here.”

  “I’m fine now Brick, really. I fell apart right after it happened, but I’m perfectly fine now, really, I am.”

  “That’s only part of the reason I want you with me. The other is that you are the one who caused all this to happen, you found her, you managed to get her away, and you kept her safe when anyone else might have left her behind to fend for herself—instead you put her safety first. My parents are going to want to thank you. And besides, the media is all over this; you’ll need someone to act as a buffer, to watch over you and see that you’re safe. So you’re coming with me whether you like it or not.”