Willow

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I heard him leave but I couldn’t bear to open my eyes to say goodbye.  I almost broke when he kissed me and called me his princess, almost cried out as he left the bedroom thinking I was sound asleep.

I flop over onto my back.  My eyes are burning, the stinging rivers of tears sneaking out the corners of my eyes to run over my temples and into my hair.

My stomach turns when I think about seeing Derrick face to face again.  The smug smile he will be wearing is already haunting me.  All these years later, he’s still able to hurt me, and I haven’t even spoken to him.

Yet.  

I have to be at the law office in less than two hours.  

I stumble to the shower and sob as Pike’s scent fills the steamy glass enclosure, the hot water stinging my skin.  There is not a spot on my body he hasn’t touched since the night we opened this box between us.

I wish I could have told him. Wish I could have him next to me when I go through this final humiliation with Derrick and his father.  But I must be strong, must keep my resolve. I must play their game and finish this once and for all, even if it means my final humiliation and his victory.

I’m dressed and out the door in the next twenty minutes.  Thank goodness Lucielle is on a flight to Milan and will be out of touch for the next twelve hours.  I hold the sealed envelope in my hand.  The letter I wrote in the last five minutes before I left Pike’s apartment has my head spinning and my fingertips tingling.

Inside the cab, I give the driver the address.  I’m early and I need to make one stop on my way.  The one person besides Pike that can give me strength.

Ten minutes later I’m sitting at her bedside.  Her soft gray hair styled, her lips wearing her signature tomato-red lipstick as she turns her head on the pillow toward me.

“You look beautiful, Maisy.”  I brush my fingers over the thin, silky soft skin of her arm.  Deep purple bruises dot the exposed flesh.  

“I look like a harlot.”  She snaps.  “All these men around here are after me but I’m not giving them the time of day.  They want a piece of ass but I’m not that kind of girl. It doesn’t matter.  They come around still.  Men are stupid.  You know that, Willow?  Most of them, anyway.  Not my Henry.  He’s coming back soon and we are going for a carriage ride in the park.”

“Yes, Maisy.  It’s a beautiful day for that.”  The morning light tickles the lace on her bed linens.  They are lavender and green and she fusses with the lace that trims the edge of the comforter.

“Willow?”  Her voice changes from that wispy, far off lament, into something sharp. “Yes?”  I can see from the sharp focus in her watery blue eyes that she’s back in the present with me.    She does this, her lucidity waxing and waning as she comes and goes, to and from the dream world and reality. I’ve learned to simply go along for the ride.

“What’s wrong?”  She lets out a low groan and sits herself up a little higher on her pillows.

“Nothing.  Nothing’s wrong.”

“Liar.”  She pokes her finger into my face.  “You tell me what’s got your face in a twist like that.  You can’t lie to me.  You never could.”

I sigh and pull my lips to the side.  She’s right. She knows me.  She has always been someone in my life I know I can always turn to.  She always accepted me and loved me for exactly who I was. For who I am.

“It’s just something I have to do today.  It’s got me irritated.”

“It’s something to do with your mother, isn’t it?”  Maisy shakes her head.  “I don’t know where I went wrong with that girl.  She lost her heart somewhere along the way and I’m sorry you paid for it.”

“Don’t be sorry.  It’s not your fault.  I just have to do something unpleasant, one little thing, but then it will be done and life goes on.”

“Stop being so vague.  It’s annoying. Spit it out. What do you have to do?  And do not give me some other round-about answer like I’m going to break into tiny pieces if you tell me.  What more do I have to lose?  Most days I can’t even get myself to the bathroom on my own, sometimes I don’t even know what year it is.  Nothing you tell me is going to make things any worse for me, Willow.  So, spill. Right now.  And details.  I want details.”

I sit back in the bedside chair and cross my legs.  The next few minutes the story tumbles out of me, leaving me feeling like a black cloud is about to spill rain all over us both.

“Really.”  She pinches her bright red lips together.  The lipstick beginning to seep into the tiny wrinkles around her mouth.  Her face turns from angry to amused in the space of a second.

“What?” I ask.  

“I’m having a good day, Willow.  I may not remember what I had for breakfast.  Or who’s running our country.  But sometimes I remember things just as clear as they happened.  And I think I’ve got something that may help you today.”

“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU are, little girl?”  Derrick wads up the paper in his hand and throws it from across the conference table at me, hitting me in the shoulder.

He would be attractive if he wasn’t so ugly on the inside.  But all I see is the well-dressed entitled smirk and I want to kick his stupid overly whitened teeth down his gullet.

Every muscle in my body is trembling but I keep my feet planted firmly on the colorful rug of the conference room at Stern & Bergman, the law office where Derrick is one of the prize defense attorneys.  Shocking, perhaps, that he’s made a career out of defending the rich from crimes that would have a regular Joe incarcerated so fast your head would spin.  But in their world that’s a fair result.  Money talks.

And Derrick’s family thinks they are untouchable.  My mother thinks I’m her pawn.  Well, today things are going to change.  I’m going to change.  I’ve picked up my phone to text or call Pike ten times since I left Maisy but put the phone down every time because today I’m going to stand on my own two feet.  

It doesn’t mean I’m not still scared.  It just means I’m not going to be frozen by that fear any longer.  When I get into the office, Derrick’s there but his father is nowhere to be found.  Derrick made some excuse about his father being called to an emergency meeting but my fear immediately re-doubles knowing without anyone else here anything could happen.

I push through and deliver the letter into his hand anyway.  Watching as Derrick’s face goes from smug to furious.

“So, that’s not the contrite apology you were expecting?  I’m so sorry.”  I snap, watching Derrick’s face turn red.  His frustration isn’t hidden by his hand made suit or blood red tie.  I think if I wait here just a little longer I will leave sprayed with blood from his exploding big, fat head.

My palms are sweating and my heart is racing but I’ve never felt more powerful.  More free.

“You little bitch.”  He shakes his head and starts to walk around the conference table.  The floor to ceiling windows are letting in the morning light and it’s casting a halo around his dark form.  His slicked back, black hair shines under the conference room’s fluorescent lights.  He is big, too.  Bigger than I remember.  With balled fists at his sides.  A monster, stalking towards me.  A nightmare from my own past.  Finally, my resolve shows its first crack as I take a step back.

“So we’re done here?”  I shrug my shoulder and turn on my heel, my heart starting to pound.  My hands grip the strap on my bag as I force myself to focus and take a side step toward the door.

“Oh no.  We are not fucking done here.  We are so far from fucking done, Willow.” Derrick comes up from behind me and snatches my arm, pulling me backward and nearly off my feet.

My mind is blank.  No words will form.  I can feel my fury and fear and shame all rising up inside like bile.

“You are not going to do this.”  He laughs in my face.  “You’ll end up with nothing.  Your mother will cut you off.  My family will be sure you lose your little job, Willow Bainbridge.  Your mother’s firm will lose the Axix account and she will never forgive you.  You know that’s true.”

I jerk my arm back, tearing it from his grip.  Fear turns my head to a buzzing shell.  But I count.  One, two, three...  Centering myself.  Four, five, six, seven...  I feel taller and above all his threats.  Eight, nine, ten...  I can do this.

“Do you think my mother really cares about you?  Or all this?”  I lean down to pick up the wadded paper off the floor and toss it right back in his face, hitting him square between the eyes.

His eyebrows come together and I see the vein in his forehead standing out under his skin.

“You don’t know how this works, Willow.”  He spits the words at me.

“Oh, I do.  Very well.  I grew up in the same world you did.  I just didn’t let it turn me into an inhuman creature like you.  I know my mother.  I know what she wants.  And it has nothing to do with you and your reputation.  You’re not winning this time, Derrick.  I’m showing up for the game this time.  Suited up, so get ready, don’t forget I’ve been taught by the best how to play.”

His face twists.  His hands fly up.  And before I can get a scream from my throat they are around my throat, and the pressure makes me panic.

“You fucking fat, little cunt whore bitch.  If you show anyone that report...You always thought you were better than everyone didn’t you?  Little high and mighty princess.  I know your type.  I know what you want.  What you need.  You pretend to be all innocent but I know better.”  His wet lips spray spit into my face as he cuts off the air from my lungs.  My hands pull and tear at his wrists but his grip is like forged steel.

My purse falls from my shoulder and for a moment I remember his face the night of the party.  Glimpses and flashes of him, angry and red faced, just like he is now.  I remember telling him ‘No’ and that set him off just like now.  

I can feel my eyes bulging.  My face feels ready to explode.  He is looking at me with such hatred and for a split second I wonder if this is really happening or if it’s some sort of flashback.  How can this be the final moment of my life?  All because a boy wouldn’t take responsibility for his actions.  Because he couldn’t get what he wanted.

“You were the only girl at Wentworth that ever turned me down, you know that?  Well, guess what?  I’m taking what I didn’t take that night.  I’m taking it all this time.”  The tendons in his neck stand up above his pressed white shirt collar as his jaw muscles clench.

He slams me, face down, over the conference table, making the crystal water glasses in the center jump with the force.  His hands release my neck and all I can do is gulp grateful air, only barely aware of him, tearing at my skirt from behind.  In one motion, he lifts it up, pushing it over my ass as his leg pushes its way between my own, forcing them apart.

My ears are ringing from the impact of the side of my head against the wood.  Derrick is three times my size, but I can’t let him do this again.  I do my best to kick back at him.  I flail my arms, desperate to reach any part of him.  To stop it before it starts.

“Time to finish what we started, Princess.”  He growls from behind me, but instead of crying I struggle with renewed strength, shifting, trying to gain any sort of leverage and get out from my bent over position.  I hate it even more that he’s calling me ‘Princess’.  That he’s tainting that word, the word that reminds me of Pike and the beauty of what we have together.

Just as I realize my futile struggling is no match for his strength and fury, the door swings open.  I see him from the corner of my eye, like a knight in a fairytale, and my heart nearly leaps from my chest.

“Get your fucking hands off her.”

Pike crosses the room in what looks like one step, and in an instant both his hands come to Derrick’s throat, tossing him like a rag doll, off of me and across the room.  He stumbles over the chairs and falls like a rotten tree onto a small table in the corner, spilling his cup of coffee right onto the crotch of his perfectly pressed gray suit pants.

“You okay?”  Pike’s panicked attention is on me as he pulls me up to face him. His eyes are wild as he runs his hands over me, looking up and down.

“I’m fine.”  I gasp, hoarse, my throat still raw.  “He tried, but nothing happened.”

He turns his head to the side, giving Derrick a look that would topple kingdoms.  

“Pike.  I mean it.  I’m fine.  I will be fine.  Let’s go.”  More than anything I just want to be out of this room and away from whatever might happen next.

“Go?  Oh hell, no.  This piece of shit is getting what’s coming to him.  We’re calling the cops.”

Pike’s phone is in his hand in the next instant.  

Derrick is on his feet, panic washing over his face, but Pike just points at him.  There’s no mistaking his meaning.  Stay put.  To my shock, Derrick stops dead in his tracks.

Pike relates to the 911 operator the general scene he encountered, answers some questions, then he shoves his phone into his pocket.

By now a crowd has gathered outside the open conference room door and Derrick is trying to look cool with his wet crotch.  He pulls out his own phone and frantically starts typing away on the screen.  After a moment his eyes come to rest on me.

“She wanted it.  She was begging for it.”  Derrick says, pointing his phone at me.  I’m not sure if he’s speaking to Pike or to the group of nervous looking lemmings gathering around the door, but his words sound weak, desperate.

“I didn’t want it, you ass.  Just like I didn’t want it when I was sixteen.”  I yell the last word.  All the years of holding back come out of me in that moment.  “This time, no one is going to shut me up.  No one is going to say it didn’t happen. Not now and not then.  So you better lawyer up, asshole, because this time I’m not staying quiet!”

There’s a bit of a ruckus behind the gathered crowd and I see two officers in blue uniforms parting the bodies and heading our way.  Pike drapes his arm over my shoulders and squeezes.  I straighten my back and take a deep breath.

The next hour, we give detailed statements to the police.  Derrick’s father shows up spitting venom in my direction and threatening Pike with ruining the merger.

When they take Derrick away in handcuffs, his dad shouting legal nonsense at them, Pike stands right behind me.  Having his hands on my shoulders as we both stare him down makes me feel safe.  Derrick is beaten and he knows it.  As he passes us, his eyes are glued to the Turkish rug.  It’s a walk of shame, everyone knowing what he did, everyone can see it.  He’s led away, out into the open area of the law firm where he was once the golden boy.  The lawyer of the rich and famous called upon to get them out of trouble.  Now he’s going to learn what it feels like to be in the limelight on the opposite end of the law.