Touching nothing except the gun that he had taken from Lorna’s limp fingers, he placed it at the foot of Harry’s body. Squatting down to the floor at the front door, he waited anxiously for the police.
Lorna was still rocking back and forth in silence. Her eyes were vacant like an empty house. He could see nothing inside.
When the cops arrived, they saw Nick sitting on the floor near the door holding his head in his hands, Lorna crouched in the corner rocking back and forth, and a body full of bullet holes in the center of the room with a gun near its feet. The room itself looked as if a major battle had just been fought.
When a police officer tried to approach Lorna, to ask her if she was okay, she got hysterical. Arms frantically waving, fighting off the attacker which she alone could see. “No Daddy please!…not tonight…not tonight…,” then hugging her knees to her chest, rocking herself slowly. “Not tonight,” she said repeatedly in a small childlike voice, full with hopelessness.
One of the male officers, who was taking notes of the crime scene, didn’t notice the tears streaming down his cheeks, as the pressure from his tightened fingers caused the lead of his pencil to break while writing. Mumbling that he needed to get another one, he quickly left the apartment to compose himself.
They had to call a female officer; Lorna would not let any of the males touch her, not even Nick. Once quieted, she was quickly transported to the hospital for treatment.
Several of the officers at the scene commented that if Harry was not dead, they would have gladly hunted him down and put him out of his misery. Some of them had daughters. Badge be damned, they said, when something like this happens to anyone, especially a child.
Lt. Alex Brown, understanding his officers’ anger, said nothing. He knew they were all good men, and would honor their positions, so he let them spew off some steam while securing the apartment; it was better than one of them taking their frustrations out on the innocent, or themselves.
After receiving confirmation that the lock was picked before the door was broken down, Lt. Brown believed Nick’s account of the events and knew Lorna had acted in self-defense. The living room mirrored a battlefield, while Lorna’s appearance and behavior, before she was taken to the hospital, was that of a beaten-down soldier now clothed in the mind of a traumatized child.
Lt. Brown, glancing around the living room, had seen some things in this job. Horrible things. But what would make a man hunt down his own daughter just to violate her and damn near kill her? Shaking his head in amazement, taking in the scene before him, he knew that no explanation could justify this obscenity.
When he got back to the station, it was not long before he had his answer. After running a check on Harry Carter, the reports showed that Harry Carter not only had a prison record, but also was a known child molester. The man had been in and out of prison so many times; he was considered a career criminal.
Shaking his head in amazement, he wondered if Lorna’s mother knew, and if so, why didn’t she protect her daughter?
When Nick finally arrived at the hospital, they had Lorna heavily sedated. He was extremely pleased to learn that she was not violated. Not knowing whom to call about Lorna, he called Sable telling her as briefly as he could over the phone what had happened. She was on her way.
Sitting at Lorna’s bedside, he could not believe what almost happened to the woman he loved. Holding her limp hand firmly in his, he still wanted an explanation for the magazine; he could not let that go…he wished that he could.
Sable came rushing into the hospital and was immediately taken to Lorna’s room. She cried out in horror when she saw Lorna, noting the various black bruises along her once-flawless face, now swollen almost beyond recognition. Her hands flew to her mouth to still her cries, as Nick stoically told her what had happened, in a voice void of all emotions.
Staring wide-eyed at Nick for some sort of clue to his unemotional behavior, she sat down at Lorna’s bedside and gently held her limp hand, noting the cuts and bruises, and one finger wrapped in bandages, broken.
She could no longer hold back her tears, and cried openly, holding Lorna’s hand against her cheek. Nick stood quietly as a statue, saying nothing.
“Nick, I have something to tell you,” her voice cracking from the pain racing through her body like rushing wind. Only small parts of Lorna’s face could be seen because of the bandages. Her father tried to kill her, Sable thought, as fresh tears covered her eyes with a blinding blur.
“I know already.” Nick said, not able to keep the hurt out of his voice. “She’s a porn star,” he spat, as if the words he had just spoken were poison in his mouth.
Hearing the anger, hurt and resentment in his voice, Sable slowly turned her head toward him, keeping a gentle grip on Lorna’s hand. Looking at Nick, as if he’d just lost his mind, trying very hard not to take her anger out on him. Sable knew he didn’t know everything.
“Nick,” saying his name as patiently as she could, “she wanted to tell you…but was afraid.”
Torn, because he felt sympathy for what Lorna has just been though. But what about me, he selfishly thought in frustration. Nick was angry and hurting.
“Sable, Lorna knew she could talk to me, she knew this!” His voice cracking from the emotions he was trying to hide.
“No Nick, she didn’t know.” Nick was about to adamantly object when Sable jumped to her feet. Walking toward him, like an angry bear protecting her cub, she jammed a manicured finger sharply into his chest, causing him to take a step backward. His eyes widened with shock. “No,” saying quietly with deadly finality, “…you listen.”
Tears still streaming down her cheeks, like flowing rivers of water, “you’ve carried the pains of your past around for so long you wear it like a shirt,” she said, jamming him again with her finger. “Anything…anything and everything Lorna did,” pausing from the incredulously of it, “you questioned!”
Nick did not deny it. He could not. Sable continued, the unfairness of him fueling her. “She wanted to tell you,” she sneered, “but Nick…She….Was…Afraid!”
Nick’s back was against the wall. Sable stood before him, glaring into his eyes, furious. Trying not to hate him. Wanting to hit him.
Whatever control Nick had on his emotion, broke like shattered glass. “I would have understood!” Throwing both hands in the air, “I would have understood!” He was yelling now, all composure gone. “She didn’t have to do this to me!” Stepping away from Sable, he paced from the window to the bed, then back to the window again, ensuring not to look at Lorna or Sable.
“Do this to you?” She asked incredibly. “Why you…” saying quietly, Sable walked across the room. Standing behind Nick,who had his back turned to her, Sable remembered her father’s warning. Grabbing Nick by the arm, she turned him to face her.
She wanted to call him the selfish, self-centered jerk she knew him to be, but she did not. That would be too easy for him; she saw that now. As calmly as she could, though the anger in her eyes told him how she really felt, Sable recounted all Lorna told her about her horrifying childhood. Her past. Nick was stunned; he had no idea.
By the time Sable had finished, Nick knew about Lorna’s childhood and the abuse. Her mother, who did nothing except to blame her. Leaving home. The pregnancy. Having her child sold, on the day of its birth, while she was asleep. Lorna was heavily drugged. She did not know whether she had a boy, or a girl.
Sable told Nick all Lorna told her about living on the streets. Her fears. Her disappointments and sense of hopelessness. Lorna had many. Nick was taken aback, and felt sick to his stomach. He glanced at Lorna lying in the bed, battered and bruised.
Realizing for the first time since they had met that Lorna had always been there for him. Listening to him. Supporting him. When he was finished whining about his past, and or current situations, it was then and only then that he would inquire about her.
He was selfish…maybe, he thought, he would have to think on that later. He had not been there for her, not all the time perhaps; he would think on that too later, not now, he had much to consider.
The only reason he knew Harry was her father is because one night he was looking for a pen, looked in a drawer and saw a picture of a couple. Lorna said that it was her parents and a sad look covered her face, but he never asked her about them. He simply placed the photo back into the drawer, continuing with what he was doing.
When he briefly thought about it, he never asked her about herself, her childhood, her hopes or dreams…as she did with him…often. As he allowed his thoughts to ponder on their relationship, he could not remember ever showing any interest in Lorna as a person. He only used her for his needs, and not once did she complain.
She was there when he needed someone to talk to, ask advice, to listen. Lorna always listened, sometimes for hours on end, and she never complained. She always made him feel special by giving little surprises, which now that he thought about it, he took for granted. Maybe…he’d think on that later as well.
As he continued looking at her lying in the hospital bed, he remembered the last time that they saw one another. Lorna had asked Nick to come to her office; he wasn’t busy and really didn’t want to go, but she had pleaded. When he got there, she had a picnic lunch spread on the floor, complete with flowers, wine, cheese and tickets to the Knicks game.
He was delighted for the tickets because he wanted to see the game, but he never asked her where she got them; the game was sold out. Nick realized with regretful clarity that he had been a selfish, self-centered, egotistic jerk. But wasn’t he allowed, considering all he’d been through?
Shaking his head, while he continued gazing at her, he hoped that Lorna would forgive him. He didn’t want to lose her…he didn’t…he wouldn’t, at least not until he was ready. No one leaves him, ever. Besides, she had some explaining to do about those photos in that magazine; his thoughts darkened, while his fists clenched so tightly the veins in his hands became visible.
His eyes glazed over as they looked at her battered face. “You have some explaining to do,” he said eerily soft, while caressing her hair.