Chapter Two – Bittersweet Reunion

"It's JD. He's back."

Heather didn't say anything. She just stood there in shock. When we met back up two years ago, I had told her everything. From meeting him in the subway, to him mind controlling me to do god knows what, to him "dying" in the bus accident. And she thought that what Ms. Chandler did to her and the other Heathers was bad.

"Jesus….Vern, does he know anything about us?"

"If I did, I would've A) remembered it, or B) was forced to tell him. But I don't think I did. But now he has Heather M., and who knows what the hell he's making her do." I walked past her and sat down on her couch. I rested my elbows on my knees and massaged my face with my hands.

"You look like you need a drink."

"Oh…really?" I seethed. Heather grabbed a bottle of red wine and poured two glasses, one for me and one for her. She sat down next to me on the couch and handed me the glass.

"I don't know if he's doing this to get revenge on me." I said in between sips. "What doesn't make sense is that I haven't seen him in almost 10 years."

"Yeah, well 10 years isn't that much time if you think about it."

"Heather, I saw him die!" I snapped at her. Realizing what I just did, I set the glass down on the coffee table and brought my knees up to my chest. "Sorry. Didn't mean to snap at you."

"I've been through worse, Vern." She set he glass down next to mine and grabbed my hand.

"Look at me, Veronica. You'll find her. There's no need to run away from it."

"You honestly have no idea what he did to me."

"I can relate. What he did to you could probably compare to what my mother did to me." She pulled her hand away tugged on the collar of her shirt, which revealed bruised skin. "I'm probably gonna have these for the rest of my life. I'm not as strong as you. You can at least protect yourself-"

"And yet, I'm vulnerable-"

"Let me finish." I stopped talking. "Just get the job done. Do it for her and her parents. Do it for yourself, Vern. You need it."

"I don't even know if I can."

"If you won't at least do it for yourself or her family, then do it for me!" Ending on that note, she picked the remote and turn on the television. She continued to drink her wine.

"Do they still do reruns of it?" I asked out of the blue. She stopped drinking and rolled her eyes at me.

"What do you think, Nancy Drew?" That made us both laugh. This was probably the first time in a while.

"You're beautiful." I complimented her with sarcasm, continuing to drink my own wine.

"Shut the fuck up, Vern."

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The next night I headed to Manhattan, where I would find myself in the Plaza Hotel. Heather M. supposedly made a hotel reservation here recently (as I found on her credit card data). This was where JD and I spent our one-year anniversary so long ago. He's repeating the same pattern with her, just in a short time period.

"Welcome back, Miss Sawyer. It's been a while." the doorman said. How the hell did this guy know my name?

Shrugging it off, I made my way through the lobby and to the elevator. Shit, I didn't even know what floor they would be on. Where did he take me?

Think, Veronica. Think.

SO NOW YOU WANT TO FIND ME? EH, RONNIE?

NO. Find them without him getting in. Just…..

It was Room 989. He accommodated this room based on the day I met him. September 1989.

Shit.

The elevator made it to Level 9. I got off and made my way down the hallway. This place brings me back to too many bad memories. I began to see flashes of purple and images of how the hotel used to be. Who knew if he was in this place? But I could feel him…even though I didn't want to.

I thought I felt something brush my shoulder and I jerked my head. There was nothing. The lights continued to flicker as I made it to the end of the hallway. And right in front of me was room 1989.

I turned the handle and the door automatically opened. So much for super strength. The room was ransacked and completely trashed. I walked around to see if he was lurking around somewhere in the shadows. Then I heard her voice.

"Heather?" I called out. There was no response. Just small wimpers. I began to move towards the source of her voice.

"Heather? I know you're in here. You probably don't remember me. I used to hang out with you and your other friends – you know, the Heathers….." I made my way to the bedroom and saw her. She was laying on the bed wearing nothing but a matching black and yellow lingerie. She looked sick. Then she saw me.

"Veronica?" I gave her a faint smile and gave a breath of relief.

"Hey. I'm gonna get you out of here, okay?" I began to move towards her, but she jerked back on the bed.

"No! I can't – he told me not to leave!"

"Is he still here?"

"I don't know! He won't leave me leave!" she began to cry. I knew what I had to do. I moved to the bed and climbed up. I pinned Heather down (as she furiously tried to fight back) and covered her mouth with my free hand. She stopped fighting. I took a deep breath and spoke.

"You stayed. You didn't leave. You did what he asked." I waited for about ten seconds before I let her go and got off of her. I stood on the side of the bed as she sat up.

"Oh my god…." she muttered to herself. "Oh my god, what have I done?" She curled up into a ball and sobbed. I felt so helpless.

Was he really dead? Or was he planning to do something more terrible than what he did to Heather McNamara?

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"Your parents are in a cab heading over here now." I finished making a pot of coffee and poured a cup for Heather. She sat on my couch wearing a pair of jeans and a shirt I lent to her and a yellow pea coat jacket. I handed her one of the mugs and sat down next to her.

"Veronica, I don't even know how to begin to thank you…."

"Don't." I stated frankly. "What matters now is that you're going back home to your family and you don't have to worry about him anymore."

She didn't respond. I reached for her hand and gripped it tightly.

"This wasn't your fault, Heather. He's probably aft-Heather, look at me." She did.

"I need you to repeat these exact words after me: THIS ISN'T MY FAULT."

At first she didn't say it, but before I could speak again, she spoke.

"This isn't…..this isn't my fault." she muttered. She said it again. And again. She looked about ready to tear up and sob.

"Just keep saying it to yourself until you believe it's true."

"But what if I start having bad memories of him? And what he did?" she cried.

"I say the names of the streets I used to live on when I was younger. Just find what's right for you." Heather put the mug down on the coffee table and hugged me. I wrapped one arm around her and waited for her to reset herself.

"Thanks for saving me, Veronica." She pulled out and smiled at me.

"Just doing my job." I smiled back.

There was a knock on the door. I got up and opened the door to find Heather's parents rushing in to hold their baby girl. I watched as the McNamaras embraced one another in tears and giggles. It was bittersweet to watch, but it hurt. If my family had just waited a little longer for me to get ready, that asshole wouldn't have….and they wouldn't have…and I wouldn't be…..

"How much do we owe you?" Mr. McNamara's voice snapped me out of my thoughts and in that moment my eyes felt wet.

"Sorry, could you repeat that?" I asked as I wiped my eyes.

"Name your price."

"Don't worry about that now." I walked over to my desk and grabbed one of the thousands of Jeri's business cards, handing it to Mr. McNamara.

"Just call my boss. She'll work out an estimate."

"Thank you, Veronica." Mrs. Sawyer had her arm around Heather's shoulders. "Thank you bringing our daughter home."

"Shall we go, ladies?" Mr. McNamara turned away and the three began to walk out the door. Heather turned back and grabbed her purse from the coffee table.

"I guess I'll see you around?"

"Hopefully." I smiled. She hugged me one last time and headed out the door with her family. As they headed out to the elevator, I began to shut my broken door -But something wasn't right.

As they loaded into the elevator, I saw Heather reach for something in her bag. The elevator doors began to shut and the last thing I saw was Heather, with a smile on her face, pulling a pistol out of her purse and raising it to her parents.

"NO!" I ran out as the doors shut. But it was already too late. Screams and gunshots were carried down along with the elevator.

"SHIT!" I cried out. I headed to the staircase and ran down until I got to the lobby.

He made her do this. He knew I was coming for him. HE FUCKING BRAINWASHED HER.

Everyone in the lobby crowded around the elevator doors to see what had happened and I pushed my way to the front. Inside the tiny elevator, Mr. and Mrs. McNamara laid dead, each with bullets engraved into their chests and heads, in their own little pools of blood. Heather crouched down over her parents screaming and crying. She must've dropped the gun on the floor, realizing what she had done. In the midst of her panic, she noticed me. She looked up, and her fear had faded. She gave me an evil smile (WAS THIS HER OR HIM?) and giggled.

"Smile, Veronica." she whispered.

FUCK, IT WAS HIM.

I turned around from the scene of the crime and ran out of the building. I had to get out of the city. I had to leave. Maybe I could get the money from Heather Chandler, maybe even Jeri – who fucking cares?

But he – even if he was still here – could still find me. HE could hurt someone else. Someone that could bring me back to him. Because, after everything that happened, he wanted me.

He had to be stopped.

There's a choice we all have to make. Knowing it's real means you gotta make a decision. One - keep denying it. Or two - do something about it.

So I'm going to fucking do something about it.

END OF CHAPTER TWO

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A/N:

Hi lovelies! I hope yal had a great start to 2K16. Hoping to post more soon.

Have a Happy Valentines Day!