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CHAPTER fifty-one

  “What happened?" Jay asked when they left. I threw off the quilt and went in search of my cigarettes. I realized I hadn’t had one since earlier that afternoon when Jay and I had sat at the kitchen table. My head felt dizzy when I took my first, deep drag. I placed both hands flat on the kitchen table to steady myself.

  Jay had followed me to the kitchen and I heard him saying behind me, "I’m so sorry. I should’ve been here. This wouldn’t have happened if I’d been here." He might’ve been right, but on the other hand, I shuddered to think what could’ve transpired if Jay had been there. I couldn’t remember if Mr. Mask had a gun or another weapon, but if he had, he probably wouldn’t have hesitated to use it on Jay or myself. I don’t know how he would have subdued both of us without a weapon.

  I straightened up and turned to face Jay.

  "It’s over. Forget it. Don’t beat yourself up over this," I told him.

  "Who was it?" Jay asked knowingly.

  "I don’t know, and that’s the truth."

  "Then tell me what happened," he demanded.

  "I woke up. Someone was sitting on me, holding my hands and covering my mouth. He didn’t say or do anything."

  "What did he want?"

  "I told you, I don’t know."

  "Kate, this has something to do with everything else that’s going on. I’m not stupid. Please," he begged me. "I told you earlier that I’m sorry I got you involved in this stupid vengeance thing. And now this happens. I feel responsible."

  Just forty-eight hours ago we had promised each other to be honest and I remembered that now.

  "He told me to stay out of it," I said quietly. "That’s all he said. And then he left."

  Jay shook his head slowly and stared at me.

  "I’m calling the police back. This has gone too far."

  "No Jay. No police. No more police. I’m dropping it. He scared me sufficiently. In fact, he terrified me. I know now what it feels like to be drowning."

  I stood there feeling terrified and reliving the feeling of that hand over my mouth and nose. The walls of the kitchen felt like they were closing around me and I was having trouble breathing, again. I butted my cigarette in disgust and tried to calm myself by taking deep, lung-cleansing breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

  I ended up on the balcony, overlooking the street trying to get myself back together. Feelings of helplessness overwhelmed me and I stood there with my hands on the railing, wanting to scream. Rage finally overtook the helplessness and I vowed to myself that if and when I met Mr. Black Mask, face to face, I would personally pound his face to a pulp. I didn’t like being vulnerable and although I’d never portrayed myself as a damsel in distress, the events of the last ten days had made me feel my size, and my sex. I was a small woman, but I was determined not to let my size be my downfall.

  When Jay finally convinced me to go to bed, sleep evaded me. My bed no longer seemed like my special place, where I could hide and feel safe. Jay helped me strip the linens and remake the bed so there were no reminders of what had transpired there a few hours ago. But the cool crispness and scent of the clean sheets didn’t help and I laid wide awake, staring at the digital clock.

  I was curled in a ball with my back to Jay so I couldn’t tell if he was sleeping. I listened to his rhythmic breathing for a long time and when he offered to hold me, I gratefully turned around, into his arms.

  "Thanks for being here for me," I said into his chest. "I appreciate it."

  He responded by hugging me tighter and telling me to go to sleep.

  I dragged myself to the office on Monday morning but feelings of dread overwhelmed me, and I didn’t know if I was going to be able to cope.

  I had rested all day Sunday and my physical energy returned by the end of the day. Jay insisted on taking a long, leisurely walk after dinner and after a luxurious, steamy bath, my body felt normal. I couldn’t let Jay out of my sight for the whole day and I although I knew it was ridiculous to be feeling this way, I admitted to myself that I needed something to cling to.

  I woke up Sunday morning to the sound of the shower and had a momentary panic attack until I reoriented myself. The bed was warm beside me where Jay had been lying. The clock read nine-fifteen and I huddled under the duvet waiting for Jay to finish in the shower. When he reappeared in the bedroom he was dressed in the same clothes he was wearing the night before.

  As he fastened his watch around his wrist, he said, "I’ve gotta go to sign that statement for Detective Leech."

  Another panic attack came over me when I thought about being alone in my apartment. I threw off the covers and told Jay I’d go with him and stayed close to his side for the rest of the day.

  We avoided talking about the events of the night before for most of the day but Jay finally brought it up that evening on our walk.

  "Kate, I don’t think you should go to the office tomorrow."

  I admitted to myself that I’d been having the same thoughts because I was sure that my masked attacker was someone who I worked with.

  "I’ll see how I feel tomorrow," was all I said.

  "We have to talk about this Kate. You can’t avoid it."

  We turned around and started walking back to my apartment. Jay wasn’t about to let the subject drop and he stood in front of me.

  "You must have some idea of who broke in. I certainly have some thoughts on the matter."

  "Drop it Jay," I said and tried to sidestep around him but he grabbed my arm.

  "No. I won’t. All of this is tied-in to things at TechniGroup. And I don’t think you’re safe going to the office."

  He was right, but I wasn’t about to hide from the world.

  "Jay, I’ll be fine. Really. Hiding in my office and doing my work is something I’ve perfected over the last week or so."

  "Call in sick," he suggested.

  "It’s too busy."

  "Oh, really? And the work won’t get done without you there? The world stops because Kathleen Monahan takes a day off?" he said sarcastically.

  I yanked my arm out of his hand and defiantly shot back at him, "I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself."

  "Right," he snorted. "Just like last night. You really took care of yourself then, didn’t you?"

  "I tried," I said very quietly, and started walking home.

  "I’m sorry," he was saying behind me. "You did fine. I shouldn’t have said that but this whole situation is scaring me to death. I can’t bear the thought of something happening to you."

  His hand found mine and we walked silently the last few blocks. The evening air smelled like spring, my favourite season of the year, and the odours and sounds gave me renewed strength and resolve.

  At the front of my house I sat on the first step of the porch and motioned for Jay to sit beside me.

  "You know," I told him, "a famous man once said that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself."

  But now that I was at the office building I found I couldn’t get out of my car. It was like there was a huge magnet in the seat and it was sucking all the power and energy out of me. When I looked in the rear-view mirror the image that came back at me wasn’t a pretty one. One half of my face looked like Marlon Brando’s in the Godfather. A magazine article had said that he stuffed his cheeks with cotton for that role.

  The white of my left eye was bloodshot and the top of my cheekbone and surrounding eye were purplish-black. I couldn’t wait for the green and yellow stage. Jay had suggested make-up to cover it up by I laughed him off.

  "People will notice the makeup before they notice the black eye," I told him.

  Before falling asleep the night before, I had made myself try and remember something about my attacker. Rather than push the memory away, I needed to know who it was. The few words he had spoken gave me no clue to his voice because I was sure he had disguised it. I couldn’t remember his height in relation to anything an
d besides, everyone seemed tall to me. I recalled that he had been totally clothed in black, or very dark, clothes, and the only part of his body that was visible were his eyes. If his eyebrows had been exposed, I was sure I would have recognized him.

  The fear and terror I had felt could only be described as all-encompassing. Those two emotions had taken over everything and my will and desire to survive the situation, alive and in one piece, overcame any reasonable thought process of getting a description of my attacker. I promised myself that I would never find myself in the same situation, ever again.