Page 84 of Last Date
“You could sound a little letdown. I wouldn’t mind.”
I sighed and admitted, “I am disappointed.”
“Good.”
I frowned. “Good?”
“Well, yeah. I want you to want to see me.”
I was being too guarded. It was a habit with Merrick. But we weren’t going to get anywhere if I acted disinterested. I took a deep breath and slowly released it. “I was looking forward to seeing you, but I understand you’re a busy guy.”
“Yes, however, I still want to see you today. I was wondering if we could have dinner instead?”
Pleasure nudged me. “Oh, sure. That works.”
“Great.” He sounded happy. “I’ll pick you up at your place around 8:30 p.m. Will that work?”
“Sounds perfect.”
“Okay, see you then.”
“Bye.” He hung up, and I leaned back in my chair, feeling pleased. He hadn’t blown me off; he’d just rescheduled. I could work with that. Hopefully I’d be able to let down my walls as time went on. I’d need to do that if Merrick stayed interested in me. Of course, that was the real question, wasn’t it? Would the guy who’d jumped from man to man his whole life be satisfied dating just little ol’ me?
Thinking I had plans with Merrick, Helen and Charlene had already left for lunch. I considered eating my usual grocery store burrito but decided against it. If things went well with Merrick, there was the possibility he might see me naked in the near future. Maybe I needed to take better care of my body, just in case.
A chicken salad from Betty’s Bistro sounded like a good plan. I gathered Spot, and we headed over to the bistro. Since I had Spot with me, I called ahead so I could take the salad to go. I parked in the lot, noticing a white van with Luscious Stems Florist on the side. Anxiety shifted through me at the sight of the vehicle. I needed to remember to ask Merrick about that tonight. Had they officially ruled out that angle? I’d feel more comfortable knowing for sure. I didn’t like feeling agitated every time I saw a florist’s delivery van.
I locked Spot in my truck with the windows cracked. I’d only be a few minutes since I’d called ahead and paid over the phone already. I entered the busy restaurant, and I stood in the line for customers who’d called in the order. I scanned the crowded bistro, half expecting to see that dark-eyed guy with the big mustache staring at me from across the room. I laughed at my paranoia, and when it was my turn, I grabbed my food and left the building.
The white van was still in the parking lot, but since I hadn’t seen Mr. Mustache inside, I felt less anxious. Maybe the cops would never figure out who’d attacked me that night. Perhaps it had just been a random assault and I’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time. That made as much sense as any other scenario. I hadn’t received any threatening phone calls or letters. Other than that one incident, I had no real reason to believe anyone was after me.
I passed a guy smoking a cigarette by the light pole in the parking lot. I took in his black hair and clean-shaven face distractedly. He didn’t look at me; he just kept puffing on his cigarette. When I reached my truck, I set the salad on the roof and reached into my back pocket for my keys.
I was shocked when Spot began barking ferociously through the glass at something behind me. The dog’s huff was up, and his teeth were bared as he growled and clambered on the glass. Startled, I twisted to see what he was barking at, but before I could actually turn, someone shoved me so hard my face slammed into the truck door. I fell in a heap on the cement, groaning.
The person grabbed me and hauled me across the parking lot, swearing under his breath. I could taste blood in my mouth, and my nose and one side of my face throbbed painfully. I started to struggle, trying to dislodge the guy’s grip, and in response he punched me hard a few times. In the distance, I could hear Spot barking hysterically. The guy stopped at the white van with the florist logo. He let go of me with one arm to open the back door of the vehicle. Instinctively, I knew if he got me in the van, I was dead.
Using all my weight, I shoved him into the door of the van. He grunted, but he didn’t let go. I lifted my knee fast, smashing into his groin. He let out a bloodcurdling yell, and he doubled over, moaning. My head was spinning from hitting my truck door, and as I stumbled away from him, I fell. He was swearing and getting to his feet as panic jolted through me. I had to move.Now. Scrambling, I half crawled away from him, breathing hard.
“Not this time,” he growled, lunging for me.
I elbowed him in the stomach, but his weight took us both down to the asphalt. He lifted my head with both hands, and I realized he wanted to smash my skull against the pavement. I got my arms under my head just in time, but the impact still dazed me.
“Who are you?” I mumbled, trying to crawl away.
He didn’t respond. He rolled me over and kicked me.
I cried out, grabbing my ribs.
“Your luck finally ran out,” he hissed, kicking me some more.
I curled into a ball, trying to protect my head and vital organs. In the distance, I heard sirens, and then he stopped kicking me. I lay still, gritting my teeth against the pain and praying he was gone.
The sound of an engine roaring to life made me lift my head. Horror shot through me as I saw the white van barreling down on me. There wasn’t much distance between us, and the engine whined loudly as he hit the gas hard.
I pushed up on my hands and knees, desperately intent on getting out of his path, but knew there was too little time. Dread shot through me as I braced for impact. But a few feet before the van reached me, another vehicle plowed into the side of it. The van lurched sideways, ramming into a nearby parked car.
People were suddenly everywhere, screaming and running. Someone grabbed me and helped me to my feet. Steam poured from the hood of the vehicle that had hit the van, and the driver’s door swung open. I stared in disbelief as Merrick stumbled out of the car.
