Chapter 2
Delaney ‘Laney’ Carter
Staring out the window, I look down on Halo City at night. The view of the Harbor Lights festival is stunning. Bright colors reflecting on the water make it feel like a fairy land. People mingling, laughing, holding hands walking happily on the street below. Normal. Real life.
All I’ve known is hospitals and rehab for what feels like forever.
Frank found a new place for me to live after the hit and run.
Sequestered in a small town with Hazel, my older rehab assistant and helper, and my computers are my only companions.
Frank came when he could, but he’s still active military.
I hadn’t seen or heard from Hawke in forever. Frank told me Hawke felt responsible for the hit and run that happened to me. Then he finally admitted he forbade Hawke to contact me for fear of leading my attacker to me.
I’m to blame. I should have listened to my own instincts toward the end. I knew something was off with Allen.
Hawke was never responsible. We’ve always known it was my ex. Not only did he try to kill me, he stole from me.
I’m to blame for this new attack. I didn’t listen. I didn’t believe that after all this time there was still a threat. Feeling better, I resented the forced isolation of the last year. I hungered for the me I use to be... even knowing she’s gone.
I’ll never run again. Now with the head injury... I lean my forehead against the cool glass. I want this over. I want it all to go away.
How could I have been so stupid in the first place? How did I miss that the nerdy computer geek who spoke my language was a facade?
I was on the brink of my business really taking off. I had just signed an important contract but the big pay out wouldn’t come until after I finished the code.
Allen was referred to me by one of my professors. I’d done tutoring while I was a student and he thought this would be perfect for both of us. I was supporting myself and growing my business, but a little extra income never hurts. I felt it was time to pay it forward.
Allen had potential but needed more one-on-one assistance than the professor could give him. Tutoring was something I enjoyed.
Working together for months, Allen and I became friends, eventually leading to dating and pseudo relationship. Really just companionship for a meal out or a movie.
Looking back, I should have questioned his anger issues.
His ‘accidental’ destruction of things. His clenched fists and jaw.
The times he’d throw something toward me.
The last time when he’d shoved me into a wall and grabbed me around the throat leaving bruises was the worst. Also, the last. I came to my senses and kicked him out.
The day after he attacked me, he begged me to forgive him and told me he suffered intense migraines and was sorry he overreacted because of the pain.
I told him I didn’t want to see him again and I dropped his things off at one of his friend’s apartments. Hawke stopped by that same day and saw the bruises. I told him it was over, that I’d told Allen we were through.
I didn’t hear from Allen for a month, then out of the blue I got a call to meet him for dinner because he had great news to share with me about our program.
There was no our program but I agreed to meet him at a public place for lunch.
My doubts and distancing with Allen had been building for a long time. I’d become cautious around him as his sudden outbursts increased. I assumed if we were in a in a public place everything would be fine.
I met him at his favorite restaurant. He started off with how sorry he was we had a misunderstanding and that he missed me and wanted us to get back together.
I deflected his attempts and asked him what he meant about our program.
He said he’d made some modifications to the program we’d been working on and then sold it.
We never worked on a program together. He stole my program and sold it out from under me! I was furious and told him I was contacting my lawyer and the company he sold it to.
He started shouting at me in the restaurant, accusing me of having an affair with Hawke, then that I had Hawke beat him up. That I stole his work. Very loud. Very public. Then he’d raced out leaving me and the bill. Shocked and embarrassed I left and went home.
Running was my release when upset and my mojo when thinking through difficult code.
Once home I changed and raced out the door, letting my feet guide me down my favorite route.
I never saw or heard the car that sped up behind until just before it hit me.
They told me I must have laid there for at least an hour before a passerby saw me.
Surgeries. Rehab. More surgeries. More rehab. I’m lucky to be walking at all. The doctors are thrilled that I can with the help of my crutch. I should be happy, too.
I am happy to be alive. But I miss the me who could run and play sports and not have everyone stare at me in pity.
After months in the hospital and basically a year in hiding, I have one leg shorter than the other, a hip that’s screwed together and my ever-present forearm crutch just to stabilize my walk.
My brother Frank, and Hawke, believe that Allen was the hit and run driver as well and they’ve been looking for him.
While recovering in the hospital, I learned Allen’s actions were symptomatic of intermittent explosive disorder. The doctor warned that he was dangerous. That much I’d already figured out.
Frank didn’t buy it. “Evil is just fucking evil. And he’s gonna pay.”
Knowing Hawke, I suspected he was shouldering all the blame and guilt.
I was hurt that I hadn’t even heard from him. Until Frank admitted he’d forbidden him from contacting me. It wasn’t Hawke’s fault that Allen attacked me. But Frank wouldn’t listen.
On top of the injuries, the court case for the theft went nowhere because they can’t find Allen or who he sold the program to. I never got paid for the program I spent six months writing and all my clients went elsewhere while I recovered.
More than a year of surgeries and rehab. I’ve been in limbo for what feels like forever. The injuries and learning how to live with them consumed most of my energy. My health is as about as good as can be expected, but I’ve still been laying low to ease my brother’s fears.
Finally, I was able to go back to work but Frank insisted that I do something different until he finds Allen.
My original niche of programming for new start-up companies could lead Allen back to me.
It doesn’t really matter, since I can no longer sit at a computer for hours and hours due to the injuries.
Now I’m a virtual personal assistant doing a little bit of everything from graphics and covers for authors, then edits for the same people and online marketing for other types of small businesses.
Small little gigs that allow me to move around as I need.
All under a limited liability corporation that my brother created. My clients know me as Rose.
Allen was smarter than any of us knew. He played his professor and me.
He watched me do all the work and then stole it.
One of my fears is he’s doing the same thing to some other unsuspecting person.
Or he’s looking for me again since he didn’t get the whole payout he planned from the stolen program.
Foolishly, I’d thought I was safe. He’d already stollen my business and my savings. There was nothing left for him to take from me.
I fist my hand on the window frame and lean my forehead against the cool glass. Damn it, I just wanted a life back, even if it won’t ever be my old life. I wanted to go to a movie or out to dinner, walk in a park without being afraid.
I was so tired of being hidden away and alone.
I begged my caregiver, Hazel, to take me out.
Just a simple lunch. It was my birthday, I pleaded.
She finally relented and we went to my favorite restaurant.
Lunch was amazing, I felt so free and strong and a little bit like me.
We laughed and the waitress even brought me a mini flan with a candle.
I was waiting by the elevator which was close to the stairs while Hazel went to the bathroom. I looked up when the elevator doors opened and a flood of fresh-faced teenagers poured out laughing and joking. Then I glanced into the eyes of the last man exiting. Allen.
Too late I remembered he knew my favorite birthday lunch spot. He shouldered into me hard. I lost my balance and stumbled. There was nothing to grab onto as I fell backward down the stairs. I don’t remember anything until I woke in the hospital four days later.