I saw the opportunity to go for the knife and took it. Though it only took a second for me to bend down and grab the knife with my right hand while holding my bleeding side with my left, it was enough time for Bernie to see an opportunity of his own.
When I stood, he was gone. I heard him thumping down the stairs heavily and took off after him.
I didn’t make it far, though. I heard Carla’s sobs as I passed the bathroom. It stopped me briefly. I wanted to go to her. However, I needed to make sure that Bernie was gone before I did.
I went downstairs and quickly checked the kids. They were fine, and there was no sign of Bernie in the living room. The front door stood open. I ran to it and stepped out onto the porch. I saw Bernie running up the steps to his house, naked, with his arms full of clothes.
One thing was for sure, I knew where to find him. And I would find him, and I would deal with him. I stepped back in the house, closed and locked the door behind me, and ran upstairs to Carla.
The shower curtain was pulled back, allowing me to see Carla sitting in the shower, naked, with hot water beating against her body. With the water going, I couldn’t see the tears that I knew were pouring from her eyes, but I could see the way her body heaved with her heavy sobs. She was trembling.
I walked slowly toward her, unsure of what I should do. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to wrap her up in the safety of my arms forever, stopping only long enough to kill Bernie. But I wasn’t sure what I should do.
As I stepped closer to her, she leaned forward quickly and vomited in the shower. As I watched her dinner swirl down the drain, I thought of Bernie. If it weren’t for that piece of shit, none of this would be happening now. He didn’t deserve to live, but death would be too good for him.
Perched on the side of the bathtub, I reached slowly toward Carla to stroke her face. Just before I touched her however, she pulled away.
It hurt my feelings that she didn’t want me to touch her, but I knew I couldn’t take it personally. She’d just been raped. I couldn’t even imagine the toll that had taken on her. And like I said, I didn’t know what to do.
So I called Jill. I didn’t tell her what had happened, just that I needed her and Andy to come over immediately. Maybe another woman could comfort her at such a time. I hoped. I hated to see her in pain, and knowing that I couldn’t do anything for her only made it worse.
49 Owen
I met Andy and Jill at the front door to keep them from ringing the doorbell and waking the kids. The worry was evident on each of their faces. Unfortunately, what I had to tell them was only going to make it worse.
They came in and I quickly closed and locked the door behind them.
“What’s going on, Owen,” Jill asked. She leaned against Andy, ringing her hands together out of nervousness.
In little more than a whisper, I said, “Carla and the kids stayed the night here tonight. I slipped out after Carla fell asleep and went down to her house to clean up the mess Bernie left. While I was gone,” I swallowed, trying to make this easier to say, but failing miserably. “Bernie came in and he...raped Carla.” I hoped they didn’t hear the crack in my voice.
Jill gasped and clasped her hands over her mouth. Andy’s jaw clenched tightly.
“I came in just after it happened. I heard a sound and ran upstairs. Carla had knocked him out with a lamp. When he awoke, we fought.” I moved my hand from side, checking to see how much blood I was losing.
“Oh my god!” Jill whispered loudly. She rushed over to me to inspect the wound. “You need to get that looked at.”
“I will. But right now, I need you to go up and talk to Carla. She pulled away from me. I don’t know what to do to help her.” I didn’t need to say how horrible I felt that I’d left her alone and vulnerable. Jill already knew. She knew me as well as Andy did, and she could read my face and see the remorse. Of course, a total stranger could’ve probably seen the same thing on my face tonight. I felt miserable and guilty and was unable to hide it.
“Of course,” she said quickly. I told her Carla was in the shower and she ran upstairs quietly.
Andy’s fists were clenched by his sides. He looked nearly as angry as I did. “What are we going to do?” he asked. “To Bernie, I mean.” I didn’t know if it was my imagination, but I detected a harder tone to his voice now.
I shook my head. “I don’t know yet. But Jill was right. I’ve got to get this taken care of first, but then the son of a bitch will pay for what he’s done.”
“Damn right, he will,” Andy added with every bit as much anger in his voice as I had in mine. And I didn’t have to wonder whether I’d imagined it this time.
As Andy drove me to the hospital, he asked a few questions about what had taken place at my house. I answered as many of them as I could. With each answer I gave, his hands clutched the steering wheel tighter, until his knuckles were white.
When he ran out of questions, we finished the ride in silence, both of us hoping that Bernie wouldn’t return to my house. The women and children were alone.
I applied as much pressure as I could to my stab wound to minimize the bleeding. In fact, I applied a little more than necessary as a punishment for allowing this to happen. I wouldn’t tell Andy how responsible I felt, but I was sure he knew. He would tell me that it was crazy to think I could’ve prevented the night’s events, but he’d never be able to convince me. If I’d only stayed in bed with her, none of this would’ve happened. Maybe if I’d been sterner with Bernie the morning he tried to push past Carla and get into her house, everything would be fine now. And maybe, if I’d done more when he had broken into the house and violated Carla, this would’ve been just another uneventful night.
But I hadn’t done any of those things. And now Carla was paying.
I fought a wave of nausea as Andy pulled into the hospital parking lot. I was looking forward to getting this over with and getting back to Carla. I’d failed her once tonight. I wanted to be there for her now.
Though it felt like an eternity, it only took a little more than an hour to get stitched up and out of the hospital. Luckily for me, Bernie’s bad aim failed to reach any vital organs. A few stitches and a lie about a barroom brawl later, we were on our way home.
We rode in silence, neither of saying what we were thinking. Though it was unspoken, I knew we were both considering ways to deal with Bernie. Of course, ‘we’ wasn’t really an issue. I didn’t want to involve Andy. It wasn’t his fight. He hadn’t failed Carla; I had. Now I had to make it right. I also knew that Andy wouldn’t accept that. He’d be right by side, as usual. My fight would be his.
Andy turned onto Hewitt Street and I couldn’t take my eyes off Bernie’s house. I saw no signs of life, but I knew he was in there. He was in there, and he was surely gloating about having raped Carla and stabbed me. I could almost see him sitting in there, laughing.
I was going to beat the laugh out of him.
I noticed Andy staring as well. I knew we were on the same wavelength.
I unlocked the door and we went quietly into the house. I checked on Ethan and Shelby, who remained blissfully unaware of anything. I envied their ability to sleep. Seeing them in slumber was a painful reminder of the lack of sleep I’d experienced in the last couple of days. The night’s events had given me a surge of adrenaline that had aided me in remaining awake, but it was fading now, and sleep wanted to take over.
We went upstairs, where Jill had managed to get Carla dried and dressed in our absence. The two were in my bedroom, where Jill sat perched on the side of the bed, which I saw had fresh linens. Carla sat in a chair across the room. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, and her arms wrapped around them tightly.