Chasing Vivi(29)

     



 

He hugs me back. "Somehow, I have a feeling there's a big but coming."

"Well, yes, yes, there is. Thanksgiving is one of those holidays that  was always really special to me. You know how some people love Halloween  because they love dressing up? Or Christmas because they love  decorating? I'm like that about Thanksgiving. It was my dad's absolute  favorite. And because of that, I get the blues every year. Pretty bad,  too. That's why I don't want to come. It has nothing to do with your  family. I know if they're anything like you, they have to be amazing."

"You can't be alone, Viv. It just wouldn't be right. I'll be thinking of  you the whole time and then my Thanksgiving will be ruined."

"Oh, shut up. Besides, I want to be alone. Don't you see? It's kind of my way of having Dad and Mom with me still."

"It's hard for me to see it like that."

"That's because you still have your family. So go and be with them and  do me a favor. Never take them for granted." Now it's his turn to hug  me.

The next two days go by without a word from Prescott. I stay purposely  busy so I don't think too much about it. I text him to check up on him,  and he replies with a short message saying he's better, but that work  has him in a jam. The text is a bit curt, but I ignore it and go on with  my day.

I'm pulling a shift at the restaurant and then going directly to The  Meeting Place, so I have a long day ahead of me. When I finish at the  restaurant, I'm already tired, so I can't think about how I'll feel at  one in the morning. The amount of money I'm bringing drives me through  it.

We're fairly busy tonight. I guess it's because tomorrow is  Thanksgiving, and most everyone has the day off. It's also why I agreed  to work. The restaurant is closed, which means I can sleep late.

Friday morning I have an interview for a position with one of the hedge  funds in town. They need a new software system in their firm and are  looking for someone to design one specifically for them. I'm considering  giving up hope on finding a real job and maybe just doing consulting  work or even these short-term projects. Though I'd love the work, it's  rather disappointing to kiss the idea of benefits goodbye.

"Hey, Vivi, I need some olives, STAT," Lucas calls out. We keep a backup  supply on my side of the bar, but when I go to find some, there aren't  any.

"We're out. I'll run to the back and get some."

"Make it quick. I've got a couple of customers waiting on some extra dirties."

I hand him my supply as I pass, saying, "Use these. I'll be right back."

There's a storage room in the rear of the bar, so I thread my way  through the room, dodging customers and tables, until I reach the  hallway leading to the bathroom and back exit. The door is to my right,  so I open it and flip on the light. The small room is neatly organized,  so I quickly spot which shelf the olives are on. As I reach for the jar,  I hear the door close and suddenly I'm grabbed from behind and shoved  into the wall. A body presses up against me as my arm is pulled and  twisted backward so hard I scream. But a hand clamps down over my mouth  and nose so I can hardly breathe.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch. You thought you had taken care of me, sent me  off for good, didn't you? Surprise. I'm back and it's my turn now."

My mind races as my pulse joins in. I have a single-minded focus and  it's to get away from him. One arm is useless but that still leaves me  with the other. Taking my elbow, I aim for what I hope is his solar  plexus. I miss, skimming his ribcage, but it gives me some wiggle room.  My adrenaline surges. The arm he has wrenched behind me should be  screaming, but I barely notice it. I open my mouth, making him think I'm  going to scream again and his hand slips inside my mouth. Biting down  as hard as I can, I taste his blood.

"You fucking bitch. You're gonna pay for that."

He rips my shirt from the back of my neck down and buttons go flying  from the force. But I'm not done fighting. I kick back with my foot only  to find air. Not stopping, my leg keeps at it like a crazed mule. If  he's going to rape me, he'll have to work for it, by God. Fear drives me  and I won't stop until I'm either unconscious or dead. My head snaps as  he fists a bunch of my hair. In that instant of shock, he spins me  around and fires a jab straight to my cheek. The blow jerks my head,  knocking it into the wall. I'm momentarily stunned. He's gained an  advantage and punches me in the face again and again until I'm the  proverbial rag doll in his arms. He must release me, because I slide to  the floor as he kicks me in the ribs.         

     



 

I won't make it out of here alive, will I?

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.