One Sure Thing (Mamma Lou Matchmaker Series) (35 page)

BOOK: One Sure Thing (Mamma Lou Matchmaker Series)
3.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

She had just completed another long night in ER filled with the usual dregs and misfits of society. It was mankind at his worse, devouring everything in its path. She walked through the back lot toward the parking lot. The small elevator’s door opened instantly and walked inside. She pushed the button for the third floor and went on physical automatic as the doors closed and it began to move.

Hope leaned back against the rear of the elevator, closed her eyes and stretched her neck from side to side. She had somehow managed to complete another insufferable night shift. She walked through the parking lot, her thoughts centered on Raymond. Faith was right. She needed to resolve the rift between them. Raymond had done nothing but be the man he was. What did she expect?

She was the one that couldn’t handle his love. She was the one that had thrown everything away just as she’d always done. She reached up and stroked the scar on her face. She had worn it like a pity badge of honor. Never allowing another man to get close enough to her heart to do her harm.

She knew that men weren’t all like her deserting father and abusing stepfather, just as woman were not like her  enabling and accepting mother. She didn’t have to live the rest of her life waiting for some man to hurt her, either emotionally or physically. She could choose to bury the past.

The sudden crash of the glass being thrown against the brick wall got her attention instantly. “You need to mind your own damn business,” Lamont Jackson slurred, barely comprehensible, “I told you that before. But you wouldn’t listen, would you? Now ya gonna have ta pay.” With a mean spirited cackle, he laughed loudly. The obnoxious shriek reverberated against the parking garage walls producing a menacing echo.

Hope closed her eyes and lowered her head in loathsome dread. She’d recognized the voice even before he finished his mindless ramblings.

“Turn around,” he commanded forcefully.

Hope didn’t speak. She looked up over her car’s roof at the security camera, then averted her eyes and stared out at the distant memories. Although, she had always had strength, pain and misery of memories had drained her of her hope. She was determined that she wouldn’t relinquish her spirit. She stared at the far-away images straight on, refusing to back down. Slowly they receded, fading into the nothing that they were always meant to be.

“I said turn around,” he commanded again, louder and more forcefully. The determination in his voice was evident.

She’d decided at that moment that he had no power over her. She turned away from her car to face him. Unflinching, she looked at him, staring him straight in the eye. Her blatant audacity staggered him. Then, she saw it, disbelief first, then hesitation. For a brief instant, uncertainty shadowed his brow. For a split second power had shifted and he had no idea what to do.

Unshaven and dirty, his wide mouth was drawn even wider when his smug grin had wavered. Then, he steadied himself. As far as he was concerned he was still in control. And, since power was his ultimate addition, he needed to regain it.

He pulled a small brown bag from his back pocket. “Who do you think you are?” He asked rhetorically as he unscrewed the top of the second bottle he held in his hand. He lowered the top of the brown paper bag just below the rim and quickly tipped the bottle up to his mouth. His head tossed back, he drank long and hard. Hope watched, repulsed, as he clumsily dribbled alcohol down his jaw, neck and hand. When he had finished his swig, he tossed the bottle against the wall, breaking it beside the first.

She flinched.

Satisfied that he’d properly frightened her, he nodded with a leering grin, his yellowed teeth exposed. “You need to be taught some manners.” He unloosened his belt and slowly, methodically pulled it through the loops of his pants. She noticed a sheaved knife attached to his belt for the first time. “Your man don’t seem to be doing his job, so, looks like I’m gonna haveta.”

With a menacing swagger, we inched closer, making the dramatic scene look like a bad B movie. He stuck the knife in his waistband then wrapped the belt buckle around his fist and began slapping the thick leather against his leg. He stared at her face, centered his blurred vision on her scar. “Looks like I’m gonna have to finish what someone already else started.”

Hope humped softly. “Is this the part where I’m supposed to be afraid and beg you not to hurt me?” Both Lamont and Hope looked startled. The courageous words came out of her mouth before she even realized she’d said them. “I don’t think so,” she added defiantly.

“You think just ‘cause you’re some fancy doctor, you can control my wife.
I
run my household.
I
run Leanne.” Like a jungle primate, he beat his fists against his chest in an attempt to show superior strength. “
I
tell her want to do, not you. You understand me? She belongs to me.”

“She belongs to no one. Least of all you.”

“You have a lot of mouth for some about to get beat down.”

Hope, finding a surge of power from deep inside herself, continued to stare. She never realized how pathetic he actually was. “You do what you think you need to do.”

Hope watched cautiously for Lamont’s next movement. That’s when she first noticed movement behind him over the cement barrier on the third level. Several hospital security guards were now pointing and running in their direction with obvious intentions of sneaking up on him. Hope glanced away quickly hoping not to draw Lamont’s attention to them.

Lamont’s mouth dropped open, agape, by what he was hearing. He was completely taken off guard by her barefaced nerve. No one had ever spoken to him like that. He wasn’t sure what to do. He needed a drink. Drinking gave him courage and courage made him a man. He looked over at the two broken bottles smashed against the wall. His mouth salivated with want.

He took a step toward the broken glass, and then staggered backwards. He turned back to focus on Hope then began yelling obscenities. The smell of his alcohol-induced rage permeated the air leaving a bile stench of repugnance. As his crazed rampage intensified he began waving his arms wildly, threatening to hit her with the belt in an instant.

Hope looked toward the security force running toward them. They would never make it in time. It was up to her to protect herself. She lowered her backpack and wrapped the elongated straps around her fist.

Lamont lurched toward her, his arm raised in attack. Hope heaved the backpack upwards and swung it across his face knocking him against the wall. He stumbled, and then lurched again, this time attempting to swing the belt bucket at her face. She ducked, swung, and knocked the belt from his hand.

Lamont pulled the knife from its sheave. He smiled menacingly, assured of his victory. He leveled the blade and swung a wide arch just missing her. Hope jumped back, the knife missing her by inches.

Before he could regroup, she swung the backpack at his legs sending him crashing to the ground. The knife fell free as the side of his face scraped on the broken glass against the wall. He screamed in stunned agony.

Hazed by alcohol, pain, and rage, Lamont staggered to his feet. But, instead of lurching again, he fell back against the wall. Hope watched, then raising the backpack again. She steadied herself in a defensive stance and waited for his next move. There was none. She jerked the backpack again. He flinched, screamed and covered his face.

In a heap of pathetic wails, Lamont rolled on the cold cement, screaming for help. He gripped his face as streams of blood trickled through his fingers. Hope dropped to her knees and opened her backpack. Dawning latex gloves, she tore open a sterilized gauze packet and drenched it with an anticipate liquid. She hurried over to Lamont, kicked the knife further away. With brute force, she pulled his trembling hands away from his face.

Within minutes she was completely surrounded by hospital security, police, and Raymond. In the midst of chaos, calls of alarm and assistance screeched over the two-way radio and the police officers pulled her away and picked Lamont up.

Raymond immediately went to Hope’s side. He grabbed her face and kissed her with all the passion he had locked inside. Fear had propelled him to latch onto her for dear life. Once he’d been assured that she was fine, he turned his attention to Lamont.

The fire in Raymond’s eyes blazed. Without warning he lurched at Lamont knocking him down along with two security guards and a policeman. They unsuccessfully tried to pull him away from the screaming man until Hope grabbed him back. Raymond reluctantly allowed her to separate them. Raymond stayed by her side as the police and security guards handcuffed him and took him to ER.

Raymond and Hope, against her will, were escorted to Wescott’s office. Maxine and Faith met them there. All three stormed around the office like caged animals each wanting to get their hands on Lamont for a few moments. Hope looked at them in astonishment until she realized that she was no longer frightened. And the memories that she’d so long cleaved to where gone.

She didn’t cry, she couldn’t cry. She’d been silently crying all of her life. Being too young to help her mother and too old to forget, she was forever stuck in the inner turmoil and continuous cycle of reliving the pain of abuse.

The haze of the next two and a half hours faded into a blur of jagged emotion. Lamont had been treated then escorted to jail on charges beginning with assault and attempted murder.

A police officer escorted Leanne to Hugh’s office. Raymond, Hugh and the officer waited outside discussing the official police report.

Leanne walked into Wescott’s office and looked at Hope. She looked dazed, drained and twisted like a discarded washrag left to dry and harden. She’d obviously heard the news that Lamont had attacked Hope in the garage parking lot. She didn’t weep, she didn’t cry.

A knowing smiled creased both of their faces as the pain they’d each suffered for so long had ended and the burden they’d silently carried had been removed. Hope stood as Leanne approached. Then, without saying a word, they wrapped their arms around each other and surrendered the burden. The healing had finally begun.

Maxine and Faith looked at each other. They couldn’t help but smile. For Hope and Leanne, the nightmare was finally over. The four women gathered in a small circle, cheered, and rejoiced at newfound freedom.

Wescott barged into the office in the midst of the tender moment. The quizzical expression on his face at seeing all four women laughing and smiling was humorous. Maxine took Leanne back downstairs to Women’s Intervention to gather her things. They had instructed her to go directly to the police station and file assault charges and petition for an emergency restraining order against her husband. Maxine volunteered to go with her.

Raymond and Faith sat by Hope’s side as Hugh detailed the charges leveled against Lamont. When he had finished, he produced an official complaint report. Hope signed it as Faith looked on.

“I’ve asked Dr. Murray to make herself available to see you as soon as possible. She’ll be in her office all evening,” Hugh said.

Hope frowned. “Why?”

“Hope you know that it’s procedure to see a counselor in these matters,” Faith insisted.

“But I’m fine, really I am.”

Raymond took Hope’s hand. “This was a traumatic experience. What happened to you was horrendous. Taking some time to talk with Dr. Murray might be a prudent decision.”

“But I assure you, I’ve never felt better.”

Both Raymond and Faith looked at Hope with concern. Then, Faith saw a light sparkle in Hope’s eyes. She hadn’t seen that spark in years, she smiled. She had never seen Hope so calm. It was true. She was all right.

“Are you sure?” Hugh asked.

“Absolutely.” Her eyes sparkled. “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”

Hugh nodded reluctantly. “Okay, I’ll have to take your word for it. I’ve spoken to several members of the board and we feel that it would be prudent for you to take tomorrow off for some personal time.”

“That’s not necessary Hugh. I’m scheduled tomorrow evening. I’ll be here.”

“Your dedication is admirable, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist. The decision has already been made. Take tomorrow off, relax, and get some rest. Put all of this behind you,” Hugh insisted.

Other books

Mistress of Justice by Jeffery Deaver
Just This Night by Mari Madison
Keep (Command #2) by Karyn Lawrence
Yo soy el Diego by Diego Armando Maradona
Solomon's Grave by Keohane, Daniel G.
Fencer by Viola Grace