Abellow exploded from the man and reverberated through the apartment. He let go of Lexi and clawed at his face. Losing his balance, he stumbled against the wall, blocking the door.
She dropped the jar and rag and sprinted for the kitchen, for the back entrance that led to a fire escape.
A heavy hand grabbed her shoulder. She fell against the sink and screamed, a small sound lost in the roar of his wordless, unending shrieks.
He let go of her again and crashed to the floor, whacking his arms against his head as if he wanted to tear it off. His legs flailed about, knocking over a chair and pushing the table askew.
Lexi couldn’t get by him. She boosted herself up onto the countertop and scrambled along it. At the stove top, beyond the reach of his writhing legs, she hopped down. The teakettle clattered to the floor.
He screamed obscenities. “Help me! I can’t see! I can’t see!”
She bounded through the kitchen doorway back into the living room.
The man wailed an unearthly howl, the sound of an animal dying in the wilderness.
As she neared the front door, it burst open.
And Max rushed through it.
Max. Her dad.
“Daddy!”
“Lexi!” Her dad’s arms tightened around her. “Are you hurt?”
Clinging to him, sobbing hysterically, she pushed until they moved through the doorway and out into the hall.
“Honey, are you hurt anywhere?”
She shook her head fiercely against his chest.
The man’s howls were unbearable.
“Should I go in there?”
“Nooo!” Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me! The words screamed in her mind.
“I’m calling 911.”
As he used his cell phone, she turned slightly and peered over her shoulder. They still stood near her open front door. She could see across the living room and into the kitchen. She could see the man thrashing about.
“What do you mean they’re already here?” Her dad held her with one arm, his eyes watching the interior of the apartment. “I don’t see any cops—what? Yes. Yes. Send an ambulance.”
Lexi thought of how she and her mom had searched high and low for just the right building. Moving from her parents’ house had been a major deal. While her friends went off to college and then into their own homes, she was content to stay put. Work, paint, socialize some, garden at the hacienda. For the most part, her daily life had not intersected with her mom or dad.
In time, though, she craved her own space, one where she could create a studio not attached to the garage. It took months to locate exactly what she wanted. Being near Danny was important, though she could not afford his beach-district rent. A spare bedroom with at least two windows for her studio was a nonnegotiable. And good security. No outside entrance directly to the apartment. At least three floors up.
She settled for a boxlike structure. The landscaping left much to be desired. The tiny balcony off the kitchen confined. But the apartment’s cocoon environment worked for her. She felt secure.
Now, in the blink of an eye, that had been shattered.
She shut her eyes and tightened her grip around her dad. He caressed her cheek, murmuring words she could not decipher. His tone soothed. Her sobs began to subside.
Footfalls thumped nearby. “Oh, thank God!”
“Rosie!” her dad said.
Lexi looked up and saw Bobby rush past, into the apartment. Rosie touched her shoulder and followed him inside. She immediately came back to them.
“What’s on his face?”
Lexi inhaled a shaky breath. “Turpentine. You need—you need to flush his eyes.”
She gave a quick nod. “Mr. Beaumont, get her out of here.”
They sat in her dad’s car in the parking lot, the heater running, dome light on, doors locked. Max clasped Lexi’s hands between his on the console between the seats.
He phoned her mom, reassured her that she was safe, that he’d call back later.
Lexi’s tears would not stop, but at least the hysteria had dissipated.
They watched an ambulance arrive and park near the door. Its siren wound down.
“Honey, drink some water.” He handed her a bottle, keeping one hand around hers.
She swallowed a trickle and coughed.
“Did he hurt you?” Unmistakable rage filled his voice. His body vibrated with it.
“No.” A new fear shot through her—that he would go back inside. “Daddy, don’t leave me.”
“Oh, honey. I won’t leave you. Ever. I’ll always be here for you.”
She curled her legs beneath herself and leaned sideways into the soft leather, a sense of protection settling over her. “You are here. How? Why?”
“God told me first. I was sitting at the hospital and felt this over whelming anxiety about you. I couldn’t shake it. Then your mom told me Rosie had called and said you’d left the restaurant very upset. Mom gave me her keys and I came right here.” He smiled. “Found the orchid dot.”
She wiped a sleeve over her face.
“Here’s Rosie.” He popped open the locks and the policewoman slid into the backseat.
“Lexi, are you hurt?”
A fresh wave of tears erupted.
Max said, “She says no.”
Rosie reached between the seats and squeezed her arm. “I’m sorry we didn’t get here sooner.”
Max said, “How did he find her? Why did he show up tonight?”
“All I can say at this point is he knew where she lived. My guess is that he was watching the restaurant and saw her leave alone. Then he followed.”
“But why?”
“Later. Please, Mr. Beaumont. Let’s get through our immediate concern.” She cleared her throat. “Lexi, will you tell me what happened?”
“It was so awful!”
“I know.”
“He’s the guy, the one with Erik that night.”
“I know.” Rosie clicked on a penlight and opened her notepad.
After a few shaky breaths, Lexi began to relay the events, halting often to compose herself. Rosie took notes and did not interrupt, but Max fidgeted until he nearly bounced off the seat.
At last she said, “Daddy, it’s okay.”
He leaned over and kissed her forehead.
And then the tears flowed, this time from both of them.
Across the parking lot, the medics emerged from the building and rolled a stretcher toward the ambulance.
Rosie put her head between the seats. “They said he’ll be all right. No permanent damage. Bet you knew that.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Lexi.” Now Rosie blinked back tears. “Please don’t let this permanently damage you.”
Lexi gazed at her friend and her dad, their faces close together, love for her pouring from them. She recalled God’s love pouring into her as she cried out to Him just a short time ago, paint dripping from her brush.
She envisioned again the heart that was able to receive such love. It was clean and beating and pink. “Cobalt rose,” she corrected herself.
The two foreheads furrowed.
“In a showcase of cad yellow lemon.”
Four eyes blinked.
Lexi knew the damage would linger. She would not be able to live in her apartment at least for a very long time, maybe never. She knew she would relive the terror and bear the image of victim over and over. She would distrust and despise men, most especially Nathan Warner.
She also understood that she would measure life in Before and After categories again. Before The Fire. After The . . . What should she call this night’s episode? The Horror? The Thrashing of the Bad Guy?
But there was now another Before and After. The one that released, the one that healed, the one that left no space for permanent fear and rage and grief.
She smiled at her dad and Rosie. “I’m going to be all right.”