Chapter Fourteen
Myla stood in the middle of her dark bedroom, frozen. The tears ran down her face, and she could feel more wracking sobs build in her chest, but all she could do at that moment was just breathe.
So many questions rushed through her head.
She hadn’t understood anything he’d said.
She realized he’d never really given her a reason for breaking up with her.
A sob caught in her throat at the thought of another woman.
Was that even possible? Yes. She decided.
She saw how the women looked at him when they were out.
Maybe she should have told him the truth about lunch today, but then she’d have to tell him the details about her attack, and then about her suspicions of her attacker watching her.
She’d met a person who had become a friend at one of the worst times in her life.
Detective Joel Howe had been a street cop at the time of her attack and had been the first to get to her.
He had gently wrapped her in a blanket and carried her to the ambulance when it showed up.
He stayed with her all night and the next day.
After she’d gotten out of the hospital, he and his now-wife Rebecca had helped her find and move into the place she lived now.
She had been so grateful for the support she received from them and all her friends.
Her mom and dad had begged her to move back home, but Myla knew she’d go nowhere living in the small town in Iowa where she’d grown up.
So many times, over the last several weeks, she wanted to crawl into Kaleb’s lap and tell him everything.
The thought of the first and only time she’d told him she loved him, and got nothing but silence, held her back.
She didn’t want to give him an excuse to leave.
Now, it didn’t seem like he really needed a reason, or he just wasn’t telling her.
She pressed her hand against her mouth as a sob burst from her lips.
She yanked off her clothes and jumped into the shower.
She slid down and sat at the bottom of it, letting the hot water beat down on her head.
She sobbed until she had trouble taking a breath and was afraid she was having some kind of anxiety attack.
She concentrated on holding air in her lungs and slowly releasing it.
Myla started to shiver and realized the water was beginning to cool, and turned it off.
She wrapped her hair in a towel and quickly dried off her body.
She pulled the bedspread back and dove into bed naked, with the towel still around her head.
She knew it was still early, but she didn’t have the energy to do anything but get through the minutes that crept by.
She hoped sleep would finally take her and relieve some of the pressure in her chest.
Several hours later, she was still awake and staring up at the ceiling.
She flipped her pillow once and even grabbed the other one on the bed after her hair and tears had made it sopping wet.
She kept telling herself she’d be fine. She’d been through bad times before and came out stronger.
She wanted to call Kelly or her other friends to come, but her phone was in her purse on the counter, and she didn’t have the energy to get up and get it.
All that night and the next day, she slept in short periods before her tears would wake her up. By Saturday night, the only movement she could handle was going to the bathroom or to get a drink of water. She’d never made it out of her bedroom until late Sunday morning.
She tried to make herself a piece of toast, but after only a few bites, she felt like vomiting, so she threw the rest away.
She rummaged through her purse and pulled out her phone to find it dead.
She plugged it into the bedroom charger and waited to see if she’d received any messages or calls.
Kelly had called several times, and Amy and Kelly had called a few times.
She debated calling one or all to come over, but they all had to work tomorrow, and the sunlight was already fading.
She took another shower, but this time she stayed upright and even took the time to dry her hair. She crawled back in under the covers and pulled them up to her chin. She made sure her alarm was on, closed her eyes, and slept.
It only felt like a minute had passed before the alarm disturbed her sleep.
It took Herculean effort to get ready and go to work. By noon, she was tired of people asking what was wrong and telling her to go home whenever she said she didn’t feel well. She spoke to her boss and decided to spend the rest of the day in the library drafting briefs.
She tried to eat some crackers she’d found in her desk and was glad she kept them down. Her stomach had been rolling all day, and the condition worsened with every cup of coffee she drank, but it was the only thing keeping her up.
“I don’t want to see you here until you’re feeling better.”
Myla’s head snapped up to stare at her boss, John, standing next to the conference table.
“But I’m fine.”
He stuck his hands in his pockets and stared at her. “No, you’re not. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but if you’re sick, I certainly don’t want it, and if it’s personal, I don’t want you working on briefs because you’re liable to miss something.”
She set down the file. “I’m being careful.”
“No. Go home. If I see you back here before you’re better, I’ll fire you.”
She glanced up at John, and a smile tugged at her mouth at the grin on his face before he got serious again.
“No, really, I’m serious about you staying home. Not much is going on here right now, so you won’t miss anything.”
She nodded tiredly, pulled her purse out of her desk drawer, and stood.
“I’ll get better.”
“Good, because I don’t want to lose you. Now go.”
She waved to a few people on her way out of the building. She climbed into her car and sat for several minutes, her head leaning against the headrest, her eyes closed. She finally got up the energy to start the car and carefully drove home.
She sighed in frustration when she went to pull into her parking spot, and a maintenance truck blocked it. She drove around the block a few times until she found a parking spot on the other side of the road, behind another apartment building.
Myla grabbed her purse, keys, and pepper spray and walked around the building. Her focus was to get into her apartment and lie down. She was hoping sleep would help make her feel a little better.
As she passed the two large garbage containers, two arms surrounded her.
One hand pressed over her mouth, and the other around her waist. She was in shock when the guy started pulling her deeper into the shadows.
She was paralyzed with fear for a brief moment, and then she started fighting with every bit of energy she had.
“Fucking bitch. You got me sent to prison.”
He hit her on the side of the head when she struggled.
“No, please,” she begged.
“Fuck that. I’m going to do to you what happened to me. And I’m going to do it until you bleed and then slit your fucking throat.”
Her struggles intensified, only pausing when he would hit her. He spun her around and pushed her up against the brick building. The brick scraped against her face as she continued to fight.
When he started to pull off her clothes, her eye caught on the pepper spray she clutched in her hand. She pressed the button, aimed behind her, and sprayed. Right away, she heard the attacker scream and release her. She turned and hit him again with the aerosol as he tried to stand.
“Fucking bitch, I’m going to cut you up!” the man shouted as he choked and spat.
He tried to take a step toward her as he wiped his eyes.
She pushed at him and went to run, but her legs were tangled in her pants that he had gotten around her knees.
She fell flat on the ground and crawled a few feet away from the raging man.
She stood and yanked at her pants, getting them high enough to run.
She resprayed him as he came toward her, dodged his fist that he was swinging, trying to catch her.
She fell a few times but got up and raced to her building.
She tried to scream several times, but she couldn’t get enough air in her lungs to do more than run.
“Jesus Christ, lady, what the hell?”
She had been looking behind her and ran right into the maintenance guy, almost knocking him over.
She pointed across the street. “He ... he attacked me.”
Another guy came around the truck. “Damn, Adam, what happened?”
Adam pointed where she indicated.
“A guy attacked her. Go see if you can catch him while I’ll get her inside the building.”
The man raced across the street, and right away, Myla and Adam heard a scuffle.
Adam yanked his phone off his belt and called 911. He explained what was happening as he sat her down on the steps.
“I don’t know anything, just get here and bring an ambulance!” he yelled.
Myla tried to stand and pulled her pants up the rest of the way, but was shaking too hard to fasten them. She wrapped her arms around herself, gasping for breath and crying. Adam went to pat her on the shoulder, but she cringed away from him and screamed.
Adam took a shaky step back. “Shit, I’m sorry. Help is coming. Just sit and rest.”
Myla didn’t hear anything. She vaguely saw several cop cars pull up in front, followed by an ambulance. She would cringe away from anyone who tried to touch her. She knew they were asking questions, but her senses were stuck in the terror of what had just happened.
“Call Kal...” She paused. She had no right to call Kaleb for help. “Call Joel Howe.”
“Who?” one of the policemen asked.
“Detective Howe,” she stuttered as her teeth chattered.
One of the ambulance men gently slid a blanket over her shoulders. Myla clutched it tightly as tremors wracked her body, and she went into shock. Her whimpers got worse as one man after another tried to get her to answer questions.
“Get the fuck back,” a voice shouted right outside the door. “I’m Howe,” he shouted as he held his badge out.
****
Joel got a look at Myla and wanted to kill the bastard. He slowly squatted in front of her, careful not to touch her. “Hey, honey. I’m here.”
He tried several times to get her attention. Every time he tried to reach for her, she cringed away from him. He knew she was in shock, and she was bleeding from a gash on her forehead, running down her cheek. She needed to be in the hospital as soon as possible.
Joel stood and took a few steps toward the door.
“Is there a woman here?” Joel yelled out the door.
“Yeah, she just showed up.”
“Good, get her up here now.”
A female cop came running up to the building. She took in the situation at one glance. She moved slowly and sat next to Myla on the step.
“Hi, Myla. My name is Deb.”
Myla blinked a few times and tried to focus on her.
“Myla, I’m going to help you into the ambulance.”
Joel gritted his teeth at the animal-sounding whimper that came from Myla.
“I’ll stay with you the whole time. No one will touch you or hurt you,” Deb said.
“Do ... do you promise?”
“Yes, honey. I swear.” Deb stood. “Let me help you up.”
Myla stood and was startled when the woman’s arm came around her waist.
“It’s okay, honey. I’m just making sure you don’t fall.” Deb moved them through the crowd of people. “Do you want to get on a stretcher?”
Myla balked and shook her head.
“No.”
“All right. You and I will just sit, okay?”
Myla nodded jerkily.
Joel watched as the cop tried to lift Myla into the ambulance because she would start to freak when a man got near her. Deb finally got her situated on the bench, where the paramedic usually sat, and moved close to her, murmuring to her the whole time.
Joel saw the paramedics close the doors and rushed to his car to follow them.