Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Tuesday afternoon, Sonja threw her keys on the small table beside her coat rack when she got home. How she had driven without causing an accident was beyond her, with the way tears had been blocking her view. Mentally, Sonja knew her decision had been the right one, but emotionally, she was plagued by what-ifs. Coming back to her empty apartment was heartbreaking.
Reality slammed into her when she wasn’t greeted by big yellow-green eyes and a sleek black body. She sank to the floor without bothering to close the front door or take off her coat and gave in to her grief. Sonja cried until all she had were dry sobs. She tried to get up but couldn’t muster the strength.
Why should I get up anyway? Nobody needs me.
Still on the floor, her sobs subsiding, Sonja dug her phone out of her coat pocket. The loneliness was oppressive, and she needed to talk. She took a couple gulps of air to control her breathing and quell the tears. She opened her contacts and scrolled to the one person she wanted and needed now. She didn’t care that they weren’t together.
Sonja waited for the call to connect, relieved it didn’t go to voicemail. “Derek?” she said sorrowfully, her voice hoarse from crying.
“Hello, babygirl. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Derek sounded upset, too.
“Yes. No.” She pulled herself together with her last bit of strength. “I’ve just come from the vet.” Sonja gulped against renewed tears.
“I had to say goodbye to Snuggles. His kidneys were failing, and there was nothing they could do. He’s gone, Derek. My little sweetheart is gone.” Sonja lost the fight against her tears, and they ran freely over her cheeks.
“Oh, precious,” Derek said and then asked, “Would you like some company?”
Sonja’s heart soared, and she whispered, “Yes, please!”
“On my way.” She could hear him moving before he disconnected the call.
Fuck, she loved that man.
Sonja pressed the phone against her chest. She was going to see Derek again and feel her Daddy’s arms around her. He couldn’t bring back Snuggles, but his presence would ease her pain and loneliness. Sonja struggled to her feet and decided to leave the door open for Derek. He would be here any moment, and it would save her an awkward moment at the front door. Meanwhile, she would put on the kettle for tea.
While the water was heating, there was a sound in the hallway—faster than she expected him. Sonja ducked into the freezer to get eclairs out to serve with the tea and yelled, “I’m in the kitchen!” She turned off the kettle and reached for two mugs in the cupboard. A movement behind her made her turn, ready to fling herself into Daddy’s arms, only to be halted by the sight of—Angie.
For mere seconds, both women stared at each other—Sonja in shock and horror while Angie’s features distorted by rage and deep hatred.
“As long as you live, my Daddy won’t come back to me. You’ve bewitched him, you filthy homewrecker!” the crazed woman screamed as she threw herself at Sonja with her hands poised to scratch her.
Sonja had dealt with rude customers on occasion, but she wasn’t used to this kind of venom. She moved back and away from Angie, who was screaming profanities.
This woman is insane. I can’t believe I left my door open!
“Angie, calm down. Derek and I split up days ago.” Sonja tried to placate the other woman.
Angie’s eyes were wide open, and she was close enough for Sonja to see specks of spit on her pink-painted lips.
“I heard you call him, you whore. He doesn’t want to be with you, but you keep tempting him with your trashy ways and sweet-talking bullshit. I heard you cry. Daddy can’t handle tears. He wants to make everything okay and erase sorrow and grief. You figured out you can control him with tears. But I won’t let you.” After her tirade, Angie dashed forward, and Sonja took another step backward, bumping into the kitchen counter. The same moment Sonja realized she was stuck in a corner with no means to escape, Angie’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction.
“Angie, let’s talk about this,” Sonja said.
Angie ignored her plea, but instead of attacking Sonja again, she turned her attention to the side. Without hesitating, Sonja tried to run for cover.
“Oh no, you don’t.”
Something sliced over her back, and pain seared through her. Sonja turned to defend herself.
“I’m going to cut you to pieces, you filthy cunt.” Angie’s voice sounded ominous, but what froze Sonja’s blood was the large chef’s knife Angie now held.
Angie launched herself in another wild attack, going for Sonja’s face. Sonja raised her arms and grabbed for Angie’s wrist but got the knife blade instead. Although it hurt, it kept Angie from stabbing her in the face.
“I wonder if Daddy will like you so much when I carve up that pretty face of yours. I’m going to cut off the lips you use to suck my Daddy’s dick,” Angie ranted.
They continued to wrestle for control of the knife. Sonja used her left hand to try to control Angie’s wrist so she could let go of the blade, but Angie fought back. Despite Angie being much smaller and lighter, she wasn’t an easy opponent, and Sonja feared she wouldn’t have the strength to hold her any longer.
The blood ran down her wrist, and Sonja wondered how much damage the knife was causing. With a burst of strength, Angie wrested the knife free from Sonja’s hand and raised it high. Sonja was defenseless, cornered, and injured. She had no means of escape and braced herself against the pain that would come.
A mighty roar halted Angie in her tracks, and Sonja looked on in stunned amazement as Angie’s face lit up when Derek came barreling into the kitchen. “Don’t you hate her, too, Daddy?” Angie said in a sugary-sweet voice, before turning her attention back to Sonja with furrowed brows. “Let’s kill her!” Angie shrieked and again thrust the blade at Sonja.
“No!” Derek roared and threw himself between the two women.
Sonja watched in horror as the knife sank into his side. Angie let go and stepped away from him.
None of them moved as they looked down at the handle protruding from Derek’s leather jacket before Angie remarked in a steady and reasonable tone, “Now look what you made me do.” She dashed out of the kitchen and the apartment.
Sonja was at Derek’s side immediately. “Don’t touch the knife!” she snapped as brought his hand to his wound.
“Relax, babygirl. I don’t think she hit me.”
“Um, Derek? There is a knife buried to the hilt in you!” Sonja attempted to pull her phone from her pocket and grimaced when she tried to move the fingers of her injured hand.
“Baby, you’re more hurt than I am! Sit down!” Derek reached for his cellphone in his back pocket. Sonja listened as Derek calmly called 911 and explained their situation and whereabouts.
“Could you please contact Detective Sergeant Paula Stone for me? She’s handling the case.” A pause as he listened to the emergency dispatcher. “Yes, ma’am, multiple knife wounds. No, the attacker is gone.” Another pause. “Thank you, ma’am.” He disconnected the call and addressed Sonja. “The paramedics should be here in less than fifteen minutes.”
Sonja started to shake as the reality of what had happened settled over her. Derek might have acted unbothered by his injury, but she was worried sick. God, please let it be a flesh wound. Nothing deep. Nothing life-threatening.
Her own injuries seemed minor in comparison, though her hand throbbed relentlessly, and the shallow slice on her back burned worse than the deeper cuts on her arms. The pain was strangely scattered, her body trying to process too much at once.
Derek reached toward the knife lodged in his abdomen, and she growled, “Don’t touch it.”
He shook his head and chuckled at her, like she was the one being unreasonable.
Her glare was sharp enough to make slacking busboys and gum-chewing waitresses snap to attention.
Derek held up both hands as if she had a gun trained on him. “All right, babygirl, I won’t touch it. But let me at least grab some clean towels so we can put pressure on your wounds.”
“Oh no you won’t.” Sonja snatched the nearest tea towel from the counter and wrapped it tightly around her bleeding hand, wincing as she applied pressure. “You are not moving around with a knife in your gut. I’m not having it.”
She reached for another towel, pressing it against one of the deeper cuts on her forearm. The pain made her vision swim for a second, but she forced herself to focus.
“We’re going to wait for the paramedics,” she said firmly. “I won’t bleed out in ten minutes, but you moving around? That’s a hell of a lot riskier.”
Derek exhaled through his nose, watching her with something between amusement and admiration. “You’re bossy when you’re hurt, you know that?”
“And you’re impossible,” she shot back, her jaw tight. “Now sit your stubborn ass down and wait a few minutes.”
The minutes proved to be exaggerated, because before Derek could react to her statement, voices sounded from the entrance.
“In here,” Derek called, and the next moment, her kitchen was filled with two efficient EMTs, one with a gray mustache and a tanned, creased face, the other much younger with umber skin and a shaved head.
Mustache attended to Derek while the younger one assessed her wounds. To Sonja’s relief and amazement, Derek had been right about his injury. The knife had penetrated his leather jacket but caught in his woolen sweater. The tip of the blade had grazed his side and left an angry red scratch, but it wasn’t deep enough to even need a bandage. Sonja’s cuts were deeper, and after applying bandages, the Black paramedic declared she needed to go to the hospital to get her hand X-rayed and the deeper slices stitched up.
Sonja opened her mouth to argue against them taking her in the ambulance as Jackson and Detective Will Tolbert burst into Sonja’s kitchen.
The younger paramedic scowled as their departure was further delayed, but he acceded to Jackson’s authority.
Jackson took charge right away and, with practiced efficiency, glanced around the kitchen and asked, “Angie?” At Derek’s affirmative, he put out an APB on Angie then turned to his babygirl. “Sonja, have you met Detective Will Tolbert?”
Sonja nodded and held up her bandaged arms in an apologetic gesture. “Sorry, I can’t shake hands, Detective.”
“Call me Will.” The tall man smiled kindly.
Derek felt a pang of jealousy. From the way that the other man looked at Sonja, the police detective was quite taken with her. Even with her tear-streaked face and bloodstained bandages, she was beautiful. Why on earth had he broken up with her? It hadn’t saved her from Angie. Derek shuddered at the thought of what could have happened to his babygirl if he hadn’t shown up.
A throaty sound and a raised eyebrow from Jackson pulled him back to the present. “Sorry, what did you ask me?”
Jackson gave him a knowing smirk. “I suggested that we take your statement and let the ambulance take Sonja to the hospital.” He trained his attention on the medical professionals, who were hovering over Sonja, anxious to get her out. “To which hospital are you taking her?”
“Truman,” was the clipped reply.
Derek kissed Sonja on the top of her head before letting the EMTs put her on a gurney. He watched them closely to make sure they were careful of her arms and hands. “I’ll be with you as soon as possible, babygirl.”
Sonja nodded, and his heart stuttered at the scared, pain-filled look in her eyes.
Jackson’s phone chirped, and he answered with competent professionalism. Derek unashamedly listened to the one-sided conversation as it became clear it was about Angie.
The detective disconnected the call and grinned at them. “Patrol found Angie two blocks from here. They have her in custody.”
Derek pressed his head against Sonja’s chest for a beat, not sure if the connection was for her or himself. The oldest of the paramedics coughed, and Derek reluctantly let go. He watched her leave then turned to Jackson and Will to relate what he knew.
He ended his statement with, “I don’t know how Angie got in or how long she was inside before I came, but I’m sure she would have killed Sonja if I hadn’t shown up when I did.” Derek shuddered as he—once again—realized how badly things could have gone.
“Okay, adding attempted murder, vandalism, violation of the restraining order against her, her previous psychiatric hold and the documentation of your complaints in St. Louis, I have no doubt Angie is going to jail this time,” Will said as he put his pen and notebook back in his pocket.
Derek nodded and looked down at the drops of blood on the floor. His babygirl’s blood! He didn’t wish Angie ill, but by god, he would see she never came near Sonja again.
Jackson followed his gaze to the spatters on the floor and grinned at Derek. “I didn’t realize you two were into knife play.”
Derek scowled and growled, “That’s an awful joke.”
Jackson held his gaze and lifted an eyebrow, and then he laughed. He was relieved they could at least joke about it. Sonja’s wounds would heal and so would his side, and with Angie behind bars, he could move on with his relationship with Sonja.