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Chapter Eighteen
Terri sat back on her haunches and appraised her work. The bathrooms were gleaming, not a hair or a spot of dust to be seen. The smell of lemons hung in the air, giving it that clean, citrus fragrance she loved so much.
She checked the bathrooms off her list. With only two chores left to go, she gathered her supplies, then paused, hunched over the bucket she had used to carry them in, and checked her iPod. She pushed the button a dozen times, searching for the right song to suit her mood. Half the stuff she had on there was played out or came with the album and weren’t something she really cared for in the first place. She really needed to sit down and go through it, make some space for something awesome.
Settling on a tune that harkened back to her college days when she was wild and carefree, Terri hefted the bucket up and lugged it into the adjacent bedroom.
She really was pleased with her work tonight. The solitude had afforded her the perfect opportunity to get her head on straight. She was looking forward to when Luke came home and saw what she had done with the place. She knew he was only joking when he said he expected it to be spotless when he got home, but she wanted to give him something that said thank you for everything he had done for her, and cleaning his bachelor pad was probably the single best gift she could give him.
As she sprayed a layer of furniture polish on the hardwood table in the middle of the living room, the song playing in her ears switched to her new favorite, Sunday Bloody Sunday, reminding her of her dance with Luke last night. She didn’t even remember having it on her iPod, but she was glad it was. She wiped down the furniture, swaying her hips and allowing the soothing yet upbeat melody to wash over her.
Terri had just finished with the table and was tucking the dirty rag back into the bucket, when an unexplainable feeling of unease settled over her. And somehow, she just knew. Looking up, with Bono shouting in her ears “Sunday, bloody Sunday, wipe your tears away!”she locked eyes with the lone figure standing in the middle of the kitchen.
“Hello, Terri,” Randy said in a disturbingly calm voice that chilled her to the bone. “Miss me?”
Terri was frozen to the floor, her muscles locked and her mind screaming frantically. She went through a dozen scenarios for escape. She could try to get past Randy to the back door, and run for help, but with his thick frame and quick reflexes, she wouldn’t stand a chance. She could run for the sliding door, fumble with the unfamiliar locks and dash onto the deck, assuming she made it that far, and try to outrun him there. But she knew that was an even more unlikely scenario because once again Randy would be on her in a New York minute. Her only other option would be to try and make it to the front door, fumble with the locks there, and scream her head off as she ran, but no one would hear her. She bit her lip, thinking. Maybe if she could get outside she could hide in the woods, wait for Luke to get home.
“What, no hugs or kisses for your husband,” Randy said, taking a step toward her.
Terri took a step back, watching him warily. “What are you doing here, Randy?” She gulped, praying fervently that Luke would walk through that door any second now and rescue her, but it was still several hours until closing, so she was very much alone, left to fend for herself. Bile rose up in her throat. He had defied anyone from getting into his house, but she always knew Randy was capable of anything, and here he was, proof positive that nothing and no one could hold him back. Why had she allowed herself to forget that?
Randy tilted his head and tsked. “Honestly, Terri. Did you think I wouldn’t come for you? I told you this day was coming. So let’s make this easy, shall we? Go get your things. It’s time to go home.”
Terri took another step back, mirroring Randy’s own movements. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Anger flashed in his eyes, but Randy restrained himself. He smiled a coaxing smile. “Come on, love bug. Let’s not make this more difficult than it has to be. Just get your things, or not. Doesn’t make any difference to me, but it might to you when you find you have nothing to wear tomorrow. Either way, it’s time we sat down and had a little chat.”
Terri rounded the table, keeping it between them and positioning herself closer to the front door. None of this escaped Randy’s attention, but he didn’t try to stop her. “We have nothing to talk about,” she said crisply, covertly widening her stance for when she decided to run.
“That’s where you’d be wrong,” Randy said sternly. “Do you even realize what I had to go through to get back to you? This last year has been hell for me. Do you even care?” His voice rose and he had to work to regain control of his temper.
“Do you realize the hell you have put me through,” Terri snapped, her own temper getting the better of her. She couldn’t help it. After so long of playing the punching bag, of always watching every word she said, she just couldn’t find it in herself to keep quiet anymore. “You ruined my life.”
“Me!” Randy said indignantly.
“Yes, you. Because of you I have lived every day in fear of my life. Because of you I have no friends. Because of you I have no children. I spent years trying to make you happy, wondering what was wrong with me that I couldn’t make it work, and where did that get me? Nowhere, except in a hospital bed with broken bones.”
Rounding the couch, Randy stood within arm’s reach, watching her closely. “There was nothing wrong with you, Terri, except that you refused to follow the rules. Everything that happened could have been prevented if you had just listened,” he insisted.
He reached for her. Terri jerked back, just avoiding his grasp. “Go to hell,” she snarled. Desperate to distract him, to bide time, she asked, “How did you even find me in the first place? And don’t think I don’t know you’ve been following me. You know where I live, where I work…”
Randy huffed, as if he didn’t appreciate her questioning him. “Why does it even matter? I found you, end of story.”
“It does matter!” Terri shrieked. “I moved away, I changed my hair.” She tugged the end of her dyed black ponytail as evidence. All that work, all the effort that went into becoming invisible, for nothing. “Yet here you are. I want you to tell me how you managed it.”
His shoulder lifted in a negligent shrug. “You always knew I was a man of many means. It shouldn’t surprise you then that I have resources.”
“What kind of resources,” Terri asked, narrowing her eyes on him. “You mean people? Money?” She had to know. It would drive her insane to never know how he had done it all.
“People, money…” Randy skirted the table and Terri mirrored him, always keeping distance between them.
“Who,” she demanded. “Who would help you?”
“I don’t think you really want to know that, do you, Terri? Sometimes the truth can do more harm than good.”
“Tell. Me,” she said more forcefully. She felt like screaming, racing for the door, anything to make this nightmare stop, to go away.
“Do you remember your lawyer, Jerry?”
