5. Chapter 5
Chapter five
Lucy
Ijolted awake to the sound of our apartment door creaking open. It didn’t take long for my eyes to adjust in the darkness, and I caught a flash of blonde hair from my bed as Tara stumbled through the entry.
“Oh my god,” I gasped, my voice cracking as I ripped the blanket off and sprung up from my mattress. I rushed toward her, flicking on the lights as the door slammed shut behind her. She slumped back against it before crumpling to the floor.
I stared at her in shock, taking in her tangled hair, the fresh scratches running up and down her arms, and the turtleneck of her cutout sweater torn clean in two, revealing her heaving chest. Sobs broke from her lips as I knelt beside her.
“Tara…holy fuck, are you okay?” I felt like a goddamned idiot the moment the words left my mouth. Of course she wasn’t okay. “What happened?” I asked in a calmer tone. “I was trying to reach you all night.” My hand lifted gently to her shoulder, and she flinched at the touch.
Her face turned toward mine, her skin red and puffy as tears poured from her squinted eyes. This wasn’t the spunky, vibrant best friend I knew. This was someone shattered. Pale fingers reached up feebly and grasped my wrist. Her hand felt like ice.
“Lucy,” she quivered, her body shaking, “it was…th-they broke my phone.” Her voice squeaked on the last word like all the air had left her lungs.
I instinctively glanced at the small clock on the bookcase that separated our beds. Nearly five in the morning. The darkness shadowing the window told me the sun was still sleeping. Her grip on my wrist tightened like it was the only thing anchoring her to the world.
There was so much she wasn’t saying. My heart sank as the reality of what had happened wrapped around us like fog. My mouth went dry.
“What else did they do?” I choked.
She blinked up at me with wet lashes and took in a trembling breath.
Her splotchy face winced as she shifted into a sitting position.
I moved my wrist down and her cold fingers found mine again.
Her denim skirt slid up her thighs as she crossed them tightly, revealing angry welts. I tried not to stare.
I mirrored her, sitting in front of her so our knees barely touched. Then, she told me her version, at least what she remembered—of the night before.
By the time she finished recounting the night, bright gray fog seeped through our small window. The city’s morning hum stirred faintly outside. We were still sitting on the floor.
I held Tara through sobs as she told me what happened after she stepped outside of the restaurant after our fight. How Chad and Gabe stalked after her, tricked her, and dragged her into a dark SUV. How they drove her away from the restaurant and into a filthy alleyway.
She didn’t remember more than bits and pieces after that, but the welts, bruises, and bloody scratches that marred her body were indication enough.
I couldn’t keep the tears back. Or the rage. My hands never left hers as she described the horrors before they left her behind a dumpster like garbage.
It was sheer grit and luck that got her out of there.
When she woke up in the dank grime of the alley, she was able to drag herself to the street and there was a cab nearby.
Apparently, the driver wanted to take her to the hospital, but she refused.
She wanted to come back to the apartment.
She wanted to find me. I gave a silent prayer of thanks the good Samaritan was willing to drive her across the city.
At the same time, I cursed the fucking pieces of shit who did this to her.
“We need to take you to a hospital and call the police,” I demanded.
“No,” she cried. “I don’t want to. I don’t want to go to the police, or the hospital. I’ll be fine. I just want to get the hell out of this city and pretend this never happened.” The remainder of her makeup was smudged across her face in a mix of dirt and dried blood.
“Tara, I know it’s scary. But if we go to the hospital, they can stitch you up, run some tests.
They can treat you. They can capture the…
evidence.” I didn’t know what I was saying.
I wasn’t sure how to help her. She came back here, and she was supposed to fly home in a couple hours.
It didn’t matter. We needed to make sure those fuckers got locked up for what they did to her.
“I said no, Lucy.” She jerked her head down. “I just want to go home. To Jersey. I want to be with my family. If I go to the hospital, I’ll miss my flight and then I’ll have to tell them why…” She started sobbing again.
Her half-packed suitcase was on the floor next to us. I couldn’t believe this happened to her. While I was scrubbing dishes in the back of that restaurant, she was living the worst moments of her life.
I wanted to kill them. I wanted to track those fucking bastards down and make them pay for what they did to her. I didn’t care what it took.
“I love you, Tara, and I can’t tell you what to do, but please consider what happens if we don’t go to the police.
They’ll just be out there, free. We can’t let that happen, and you need medical treatment.
” I hated this. It felt like no matter what I said, it was the wrong thing.
I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t force her to do something she didn’t want to do.
She shook her head violently. “No! I’m going home, Lucy. I know you’re just trying to help, but I can’t do this!” For the first time in the past couple hours, she lifted herself up on shaky legs and made her way toward the bathroom.
“Okay,” I said, defeated and empty inside. This wasn’t up to me. It was up to her. I was so worried she wasn’t in the right headspace to make this kind of a decision, but I also couldn’t be another person forcing her to do something against her will. “I’ll go with you to the airport, if you want?”
Her shoulders dropped, just a little. “Thanks, babes,” she sniffled. “I’m so sorry about what I said last night. I hope you know I didn’t mean it—”
“No. It’s okay, Tar. I’m sorry too. If I hadn’t stayed in that bathroom…” My voice cracked.
“It’s not your fault. I’m gonna be okay, I promise.” Her mouth quivered, but I caught a glimpse of the headstrong best friend I knew and loved in those puffy green eyes.
“I love you,” I told her, picking myself up from the floor.
She nodded. “I love you too.” She made her way to the bathroom, and I heard the shower turn on.
Fury unlike anything I’d felt before coursed through me as I erratically tidied up our studio.
My mind was reeling. What if I’d run out of the restaurant like I thought about doing when Bianca left me to get Dax?
What if I never said what I did to her in the bathroom?
If I had returned to that table with her, would they have attacked me too?
Could I have stopped them? I felt so fucking guilty for ever thinking she’d just leave me there alone.
Instead, I’d been the one abandoning her.
I desperately wished she would change her mind about the hospital, but I promised myself I wouldn’t try to push her again. It was her choice to make, not mine.
We packed in silence. She moved slowly, stiff with pain. I handled most of it while she emailed her parents on her laptop, telling them she’d lost her phone.
We took a cab to the airport, and I carried her luggage to a small café where we waited until she had to go through TSA.
We sat, hovered over paper cups of stale coffee.
I couldn’t stop replaying everything in my mind.
The restaurant. Chad and Gabe. The dishes.
The real-life nightmare she relayed to me.
After we sat in silence for a long time, she finally spoke, “They tried to kill me. I think they thought I was dead when they left me there.” She absently rubbed the back of her head.
Earlier, when she’d gotten out of the shower, I’d noticed a giant, swollen red bump there through her hair. It was obvious she’d been bashed there. Goddamnit, why couldn’t I get her to go to the hospital?
“They obviously planned this,” I said before thinking. I knew she didn’t want to talk about it anymore and I should’ve shut the hell up, but I couldn’t help myself. “I mean, they’re not even on social media. That’s just weird. How did you meet him again?”
“What do you mean?” she asked, guarded and fatigued.
“Last night, when I hadn’t heard from you, I stalked your profile a little. I couldn’t find either of those scumbags there.” I shouldn’t have brought this up now. I knew she wanted to move on. She needed to heal.
“That’s weird. It’s where Chad DM’d me. That’s how we started talking…”
I hated seeing her like this. I hated the way that monster’s name sounded coming from her.
Her hands shook as she pulled out her laptop and searched for him. Nothing. No Chad. No Gabe.
“It’s gone, his profile. The whole thread. It’s like he never existed.” Her breathing quickened, tears swelling again. She slammed the laptop shut. “I can’t do this, Lucy!”
“I’m sorry. We can drop it. When you’re ready, I’m here.” I wasn’t going to push her. She needed to get home so she could recover.
Twenty minutes later, they called her flight, and I walked her to the TSA gate. “I’m sorry,” I whispered as I hugged her.
“I’m sorry too. Thank you for being my friend. I don’t deserve you.” Her voice caught in her throat.
“That’s not true. You’re an amazing person, Tar. You’re strong. You’re gonna get through this, and I promise to do whatever I can to help you.” Her fragile embrace made my blood curdle.
After a moment, she detached herself from me. “I’m gonna be okay. Just try to forget this happened, try to move on. Go find your summer job, apply for internships. I’ll call you and see you in September.”
I watched her walk away, the exhaustion of the last day pressing heavy on me. I wasn’t sure what to do next, but I needed to get home. Even if she wouldn’t call the police herself, there had to be something I could do.
I walked back to the café to finish my coffee and pulled up the bus schedule. The next one was leaving in three minutes.
Shit.
I tossed my empty cup in the trash and sprinted through the airport, dodging the crowds and scaling the escalators. I flew through the different terminals, out the glass doors and onto the sidewalk. I saw the bus. I was almost there— It started to pull away.
“Fuck!”
An elderly woman glared at me, and I scowled right back. I didn’t care. I had run shit out of luck, and this was just another inconvenience I had to deal with.
The bus wheezed into traffic and disappeared. I stared after it, stunned. Everything ached. I slumped onto a nearby bench.
I wished I could rewind. Back to our apartment. Before the date. Before everything fell apart.
But I couldn’t. All I could do now was hope for something.
Something that would take those bastards down.
An hour passed by while I waited outside for the next bus, my scattered brain trying to piece together everything that happened.
Surely there was a way to find them, to hold them accountable for what they did.
What if the restaurant had cameras?
A wave of adrenaline spiked through my veins. I wasn’t sure if it was caused by the idea I might have just found my first step in tracking them down or because of the person I’d have to see to make that happen.