Chasing Vivi

by A. M. Hargrove

  The question scares me, even when I’m in too much pain to make sense of anything. He stops for a second and mumbles something to me, but my mind is clouded, so I don’t grasp what he says. Then the door flies open as someone yells out my name. My attacker is suddenly gone and Lucas is here. “Shit, fuck.” Then he yells, “Help! Call nine-one-one!”

  It never occurred to me that Joe Delvecchio would return to seek his revenge.

  The ambulance arrives in minutes while Lucas sits with me, holding my hand.

  “Stay and work,” I mumble, but the words don’t come out exactly like that. My lips won’t work. When I touch them, they’re fucked up and swollen.

  “I called a few people in and we’re good. I’m not going to let you ride alone.”

  The paramedics are loading me onto the gurney when I sense a commotion. Lucas squeezes my hand and says, “I think you’ll be in good hands now.”

  “What the fuck happened? Who did this?” a hoarse voice asks.

  I don’t have to look to know who it is. Lucas must’ve called Prescott. How did he know to get in touch with him? And how did he have his number?

  The medics start covering me up.

  “I’ll take it from here, Lucas.”

  “I know,” he says. “All I ask for is an update.”

  “You’ll have it.”

  Then Prescott asks the medics if he can have a minute. My eyes are so swollen I can barely open them, but he stands next to me.

  “Prescott?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m really scared.” I reach for his hand. “Will you hold my hand?”

  “They’re injured, Vivi. I don’t want to—”

  “Please.”

  A warm hand covers mine and it comforts me. “M-my face. Is it?”

  “It’s beautiful. Perfect as always.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “You shouldn’t be talking right now.”

  “Are my teeth knocked out?” I ask.

  “What?”

  “My teeth. Are they all there?”

  He clears his throat. “Yeah, they’re still there.”

  “A jar of olives,” I say.

  “What?”

  “Olives. We keep them in the storage room. I went to get them and he must’ve followed me in there.”

  “Fuck. Don’t think of that now.”

  “I have to. I need to tell you in case I forget. You need to remember the details.”

  “Let me get my phone.”

  Why would he need his phone? So I ask him.

  “To record what you say.”

  “Okay.” I tell him everything I remember. “I figured I was going to die in there.” I swallow back the tears.

  “It’s going to be okay, Vivi. You’re going to be fine.”

  “What if he doesn’t stop?”

  “Don’t worry about that now.” He pats my hand gently. “We’ll make sure he stops.”

  The paramedics step in and say it’s time to go. Then they roll me out to the waiting ambulance, where a crowd has gathered. Lights are flashing everywhere and I can see two police cars. It’s a reminder that Joe Delvecchio is in one of those cars. I try to search for Prescott, but the gurney moves too fast. Then the men lift it up and slide it into the vehicle. It’s bright inside and they begin attaching things to me. It stings when they stick a needle into my vein.

  Prescott tries to ride in the back, but they don’t let him. They explain if he wants to go with me, he has to take a seat in the front. He eventually does and the doors close as we pull away.

  We arrive at the hospital and they run all kinds of tests to rule out a serious head injury for one, but my injuries include a fractured arm and rib, a bad concussion, some bruises, and cuts on my face. My hands are cut and bruised, too. The doctors say I’m going to be in pain for a while, but I’ll have a full recovery. That’s good news. The only time Prescott leaves that night is when they wheel me away for the scans. Other than that, he’s there with me constantly.

  The next day, he pops in to say he has to go to his grandparents’. I’m so groggy, I sleep most of the day. That night when I wake up, I find him sitting in a chair next to the bed.

  “Hey,” he says.

  “Hey.” I open my hand and he places his in it. “Thank you for being here with me yesterday.”

  “I didn’t really do anything.”

  “Yeah, you did. I was a little freaked and you helped me get through that.”

  The truth is I’m still freaked out, only I don’t mention it to him.

  “Vivi.” His voice is filled with anguish and I lift my eyes to his. He doesn’t say anything else and I’m not sure why. I only know my head is so messed up from the medication that I can barely keep my eyes open.

  “You should sleep,” I hear him say. I nod, relieved to be closing my eyes.

  On Friday morning, I’m released from the hospital. I have to cancel my interview, explaining how I was assaulted and beaten. Not a great story to tell a potential employer.

  Prescott picks me up, and as he’s bringing me home, he suggests something. “I told my grandparents about you yesterday. They were worried about you staying by yourself, especially since Eric’s gone until Sunday. So Grand, that’s what I call my grandmother, thought you should stay at my place. I happen to agree with her, and she’s always right, so I’m offering.”

  My first thought was how did he know Eric was gone, but it’s immediately replaced by the idea of not wanting to stay alone. I’ve never been frightened like this and before I can think, I’m agreeing to his suggestion.

  Chapter 18

  Prescott

  The bit about what Grand said wasn’t one hundred percent true. She did say it probably wasn’t wise for Vivi to be alone. I sort of added the other part. The combination of the way Vivi moves, slowly and with obvious pain, and her battered appearance has me convinced she absolutely shouldn’t be alone.

  When I got to The Meeting Place and saw her, so many emotions plowed into me at once—rage at the one who did this to her; fear for her well-being; worry, anxiety, helplessness—too damn many to name. A tidal wave swept me away, and I had no way of stopping it.

  Yet it was the moment outside the ambulance that almost shattered me, and I fucking swear, that’s when Vivi Renard truly cracked through my impenetrable exterior and tapped into my heart and soul. I don’t know how she fucking did it, but every time I look at her, I hear her ask if I’ll hold her hand. How can the smallest gesture bridge the widest gap? Break through the toughest shell?

  “I’m ready.” Her weak voice interrupts my musings.

  “Let me do that for you. You shouldn’t be carrying anything.”

  “Thanks.”

  As we cross over the threshold of my apartment, she asks, “Are those ice packs from the hospital in the bag?”

  “Yeah, and we can get more if you want.”

  “No, those are enough. I didn’t remember bringing them.” Her eyes pinch at the corners.

  “Hey, the doctor said memory loss for a few days is normal. You’ve been through a very traumatic event. Forgetting about ice packs isn’t a big deal.”

  She’s suddenly crying as she stands there. Fuck.

  Dropping the small bag, I rush to her and wrap her in a gentle hug, careful not to hold her too tight. “Go ahead and cry, Vivi. It’s okay.”

  She grabs me with her good arm and hangs on. Sobs wrench her body and I’m powerless to help my wounded Little Wolf. Other than the situation with my dad, this is foreign as fuck to me. I awkwardly pat her hair as I would a puppy. Consoling Vivi throws me out of my comfort zone. I have no problems tying a woman to my bed and fucking her until she screams out several orgasms, but not this. When her sobs ease a bit, I move her to the couch and go in search of some tissues. Handing her some, she thanks me.

  “I’m so sorry I—”

  “Don’t apologize.” I take a seat next to her and cover her hand with mine. “You’ve been so strong, Vivi. After eve
rything you’ve been through, all the trauma, you need a good cry. Maybe even more than one.”

  “I hate to cry. I didn’t even cry at my mom’s funeral.”

  This conversation is getting too deep for comfort, so I change the subject. “I have an idea. How does a hot bath sound?”

  “It sounds nice.”

  As I reenter the living room from starting the bath, I gather her things and say, “You should stay in my room. And before you object, here’s why. There are no stairs to navigate, the big tub is in there, and I can stay in one of the rooms upstairs. There’s plenty of room here, so it won’t be a problem for me. I have all the bathrooms stocked with my favorite things, so there’s nothing to move. I can get dressed in the closet, which is large, so it won’t be a bother at all. If you don’t believe me, go in and check it out yourself.”

  Her fucking eyes are so swollen I can’t read them. Eventually she nods and I walk her into my room. It’s large by any standards. There’s a king bed that faces a great view of the city and she’ll be able to relax in here if she wants.

  “The closet is through here.” I show her the way. It’s basically another room, outfitted with drawers, shoe racks, and a dressing table for his and hers. “And then through there is the bath.” I lead her to it. When we enter, I see the bath is coming along, but not quite there yet.

  “When it gets high enough, just push this and it’ll turn all the jets on. There’s a robe in here if you want and I’ll bring your bag and leave it in the room.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Just call out if you need me. I’ll leave the bedroom door open so I can hear.”

  “That would be great. With this arm, I might need you.”

  My Little Wolf looks utterly dejected when I leave. Feeling helpless is miserable. There’s one thing I can do, though, while she’s bathing.

  In a few seconds, I’m tapping in a number on my phone.

  “Mr. Beckham. What can I do for you, sir?” a crisp voice answers.

  Unclenching my jaw, I say, “Neil, do you remember that incident I had your firm handle a while back regarding a Joe Delvecchio?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “It seems Mr. Delvecchio was released from jail and on Wednesday night, he brutally assaulted Vivienne Renard.” I explain in finite detail everything that happened. “I want this handled properly this time. Put your entire fucking team on it. I don’t care how much it costs, how many hours it takes, or how many people you need, but I want the D.A. to have every resource available to help with this case. The bastard could’ve killed her. Am I clear?” My hand holding the phone trembles.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll send somebody down to get on it immediately.”

  “No fuck-ups this time. Oh, and, Neil, if at all possible, I don’t want Vivi to have to go to court. If we can do this through affidavits or recorded statements, do it.”

  “Sir, I’m not sure that will be possible, but I’ll do my best. I’ll get someone down to talk to the prosecutor and the police right away.”

  A vein throbs at my temple. Inhaling, I say, “This never should’ve fucking happened. No bail this time, or if you can’t manage that, make it sky high.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll follow up on that. Have the police interviewed her yet?”

  “They were at the hospital, but I don’t have all the details on that and I don’t want to ask her.”

  “Where is she now?”

  “Here with me. If they interrogate her, I want a member of your team present. Vivi is … distraught and fragile right now to say the least.”

  “Yes, sir. Mr. Beckham, may I recommend something? In cases such as hers, especially since this is her second attack, it might be a good idea if she sees someone, such as a psychologist.”

  “I’ll mention that to her.”

  “Victims suffer from PTSD and the sooner she talks about it the better.”

  “Good idea. You wouldn’t happen to know anyone, would you?”

  “As you know, my area of expertise is corporate law. My associate who handles criminal law will know. I’ll get with her and have her email some recommendations to you.”

  “Thanks, Neil.” Still unsatisfied, my body rumbles with anger. What it needs is two hours in the gym, but I don’t want to leave until Vivi is out of the tub. I hover near the door, in case she calls out. My phone rings, and it’s Lynn.

  “Where are you?”

  Fuck. “I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you I wasn’t coming in.”

  “Are you sick?”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  “Let me call you back.” She hangs up and I know she’s going into my office where she can speak freely. About a minute later my phone rings again and it’s her.

  “Hey.”

  “So?” she asks.

  “I’m helping out a friend today.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Yeah. Something pretty bad happened.”

  “And you just didn’t do your usual of sending someone over?”

  “No.”

  “Are you okay? You sound off. Your dad didn’t—”

  “No, nothing like that. It’s a friend. A female friend.”

  “Ah, the clouds are parting now.”

  “Lynn, it’s not like that either. The truth is she was assaulted on Wednesday night—literally had the shit beaten out of her—so I’m helping her out.”

  “Good Lord, Prescott. I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Fuck yes. Why didn’t I think of you before? How fast can you get to my place?”

  “Ten minutes?”

  “Transfer your calls to your cell and come on.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  I’m hovering by the door when the buzzer goes off. I let Lynn in and she says, “You look like shit.”

  “Yeah, and it’s not the alcohol.”

  She takes off her coat as she says, “That didn’t even cross my mind. You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

  “It’s more like two days.”

  She rubs the chill off her hands. “So what can I do?”

  “Follow me.” I lead her into my bedroom until we get right outside the bathroom door. “Vivi? Is everything okay in there?”

  Her small voice comes back to us. “Yeah, I’m good.”

  Through the door, I explain that Lynn, my admin from work who she met that day at the restaurant, has come in, just in case she needs some help. “She’s like my mom, so if you need a hand getting out of the tub, give us a shout, okay?”

  “Thank you. I think I will. This arm is useless.”

  “Are you ready now?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “She’s bruised up something terrible, so be prepared,” I whisper to Lynn.

  Lynn nods as she walks into the bathroom and I hear her introducing herself. I hear them chatting as I leave the bedroom, closing the door behind me.

  Maybe it’s time to put the coffee on or order in some food. I’d better make the coffee and wait until they show up. When they do, Lynn’s brows are drawn together and she’s biting her lip. Vivi shuffles around like she’s older than Grand. She grimaces with each step and her eyes crimp at the corners. Clearly she’s in pain.

  “Vivi, when did you last take your pain medication?” I ask.

  “Before I left the hospital. I don’t like the way it makes me feel.”

  Vivi twists her fingers, and Lynn gains my attention over her head.

  “I understand, but you need to keep the pain under control. Let me get you some water and one of your pills. Are you hungry? Can I get you some coffee?”

  “I’m hungry, but my stomach feels off.”

  “Probably because you haven’t eaten much. I can order in.”

  Lynn huffs out a response. “Don’t you have anything here?”

  “Well, yeah, but I don’t cook and Gerard has the week off.”

  “Didn’t I tell you he wa
s a spoiled brat, Vivi?” she said, as she prances off into the kitchen. The sounds of cabinet doors opening and pots banging come to us and I smile. Leave it to Lynn to take over.

  “I like her,” Vivi says.

  “So do I. She’s my lifesaver in the office.”

  “I can tell.”

  “I’ll be right back.” Her pain pills are on the nightstand, where I left them, so I dump one out of the bottle and bring it to her. “Would you like water? Juice? You name it.”

  “Water, please.”

  I get into the kitchen to see Lynn cooking an old-fashioned breakfast.

  “I thought this would do her some good.”

  “I agree. What did you want?”

  “She’s in terrible shape, Prescott,” she whispers. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Rubbing my face, I agree with her. “I wasn’t there when it happened and it was a good thing. I probably would’ve killed the motherfucker.”

  “You’ve known her awhile. Why the sudden interest now?”

  “She moved here recently. I haven’t seen her in years.”

  Lynn sees more in me than I’m willing to share. “Do you mind if I go hit the treadmill while you cook. I’m—”

  “Go. I’ll hold down the fort.”

  After making sure Vivi takes her pill I change and run a very hard thirty minutes. When I’m done, I’m actually slightly calmer. Grabbing a towel as I leave the room, I rejoin the ladies. Lynn is about finished cooking and Vivi appears more relaxed.

  “Has the medicine kicked in yet?”

  “Some. I’m better.”

  “Good.” I tell Lynn not to wait on me. I head to the shower first and when I notice some of Vivi’s things in the bathroom, a sense of uncertainty slides over me. I want her here, yes, and I want to help her, but how far do I want to take this? Will she expect more from me and if so how much?

  Am I jumping to conclusions? I’m confused because I don’t even know what exactly it is I want with her. I need to stop repeating this ridiculous conversation in my head and just move forward already.

  Water streams down my back and washes the remainder of my frustrations away. By the time I get dressed, the tightening in my chest has eased.

  “It smells really good in here,” I say. “Bacon, one of the best aromas ever.”