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Story of My Life

Chapter Fourteen

Part One

Olivia closed the door and leaned back against it after Amanda left. Her elation was based not just on the fact that she'd deepened her relationship with Amanda, one that she'd thought might be doomed. But she was also relieved that she was able to get intimate and put up a barrier that kept her from ruminating on her past assault.

Over the past several months, she had slowly emerged from her desolation and started to return to the life of a fully functioning adult. There had been setbacks, of course. In one of her sessions, even though the hallucinations were nearly gone, she could barely speak through her tears.

"I can never get back to normal," she'd cried, embarrassed to fall to pieces in front of another person, even though it was her therapist. "I can't even make it out of bed to make dinner for Noah sometimes."

"That's normal, Olivia," Dr. Lindstrom had reassured. "On those nights, you just have to call for delivery."

"But then I'm terrified to open the door. One time I went to the door with my gun, just to be sure. I'm sure I scared off that delivery guy for good. How am I going to allow anyone else into my inner circle again?"

He had fed her the usual encouragement—one step at a time and all that. But she'd never really believed him. Then one day she'd been able to venture out to a support group for survivors of sexual assault, and she'd built a few shallow relationships within that group. She was far from ready to go back to work, but now she could once again take care of herself and her child, and now she was also attending an advanced martial arts group.

Today, with Amanda, her fears about getting close to another human being again had been finally put to rest. She was starting to see a light at the end of the tunnel. It seemed as if she could finally start to let down her guard.

After a couple of hours, Noah came home from school, and she greeted him with a kiss on the head and looked through his backpack. "What homework do you have?"

"None! I did it all at school."

"Nice." She gave him a high five.

"Now can I go play video games in my room?"

"Sure. Nothing too violent, though, okay?"

Soon after, the phone rang while she was cutting roast beef for dinner. She wiped her hands on a dish towel and picked it up, answering when she saw it was Amanda.

"Hey."

"Hey," said Amanda, palpable excitement in her voice. "You're never going to believe this. We found one of Clark's bank statements with a check made out to a storage place. We got a warrant and we're heading over there now."

Olivia nearly dropped the phone, her nerves suddenly jittery and fired up. "That's great," she exhaled. "Please let me know as soon as you find out."

"I will. This could all be over real soon, Olivia. We may have him in custody tonight."

"I hope."

She was a wreck after getting off the phone. If they found his hot dog stand in the storage facility, and Jessica's body was in it, they could arrest him, and he'd probably take a plea deal and end up in prison for the rest of his natural life. Then why was she so nervous?

She put her excess energy into chopping vegetables. Not long after, there was a knock on the door, and she wiped her hands on the towel once more, muttering, "What now?"

Looking through the peephole of her front door, all she could see was a police badge filling the view. "Protective detail," the cop said, and she couldn't help but think that his voice sounded familiar.

As she opened the door and said, "Nobody told me about a protective detail," she remembered the source of the familiar voice. But it was too late.

Clark held his gun low to avoid detection, but it was aimed straight at her. "Get inside," he said, pushing her back at the same time.

Too panicked to think at first, she held her hands up and tried not to pass out from lack of oxygen, her breath coming too fast and shallow. She had to keep it together for Noah's sake. "Hold on, Dave." Her thoughts were almost too frenzied to reason with him, but she managed to say, "You're at my house. They'll come here looking for me."

He waved the gun at her, signaling for her to back up, and she took several slow steps back toward the kitchen. "We'll be long gone before then," he growled.

"Mom? Who's here?" Noah yelled from his room.

"That's my son," fear bleeding into her voice. "Please just let him go. Don't hurt him."

Clark ignored her and said, "I was going to leave you alone. Too much heat. But now they're searching my stuff, and they'll come for me next. So we have to go."

"Please, just don't hurt my son," she pleaded, tears choking her throat.

He pulled out handcuffs. "So now we have to leave, and I have to keep you safe."

Her legs went weak, but she fought to stay standing, for Noah's sake. Noah appeared in the entry to the living room. "Mom?" he said, and then he saw Clark with the gun and his voice shook with terror, and it broke her heart to see him on the verge of tears. "Mom?"

"Stay back, Noah," she warned. "Run to your room."

But he froze instead, and she couldn't blame him.

There was no thinking next, just pure, animal instinct. Clark kept glancing back at Noah, probably trying to come up with a contingency plan, and most likely, it didn't involve keeping Noah alive. She took three steps backward into the kitchen, and to her relief, Clark followed her in. "Stop right there!" he shouted, his voice filled with irritation.

He came toward her until he was standing in the door frame, and then glanced back at Noah one more time. In that moment, she took advantage of his distraction and kicked his gun hand so hard that it hit the door frame. The gun fell from his hand and clattered to the floor.

Before he could recover, she picked up the butcher knife on the counter that she'd been using minutes before and pointed it at him. "Hold it right there," she said, surprised by the calm in her own voice.

They stared at one another, completely still, and she could almost see the anger in his eyes turning to panic. "Olivia—"

"Put your hands up!" she yelled. "Don't move." Without looking at Noah, she said, "Noah, go to your room. Find your phone and call nine-one-one. And Aunt Amanda. Close the door and don't come out."

When she heard the scurry of his feet followed by his door slamming shut, she licked her lips while maintaining a laser-like focus on Clark. "Put the handcuffs on," she said.

He slowly started to cuff his own wrists, and she said, "Hurry."

Now he was cuffed with his hands in front of him, but she couldn't relax. She started to see trails of light rippling in the air around her, and she deepened her breaths, telling herself she had to keep a grip on reality or she and Noah would surely die.

"C'mon, Olivia. You're my wife. Didn't I take good care of you?"

He ventured one step toward her, and she took one back. "Keep back. I will end you."

"You couldn't hurt me."

"I did it before," she murmured, flashing back to the raised iron bar over Lewis' head. She shook her head, knowing her life depended on not slipping into an alternate reality.

"Nah, come on," he said, his voice tender. "We love each other. You need me."

She shook her head, ignoring the tears now forming paths down each of her cheeks. "No. I don't need you. And you don't deserve me."

He started to protest, taking another step toward her, and she cut him off resolutely. "I'm not taking any more abuse."

Feeling her grip on sanity slipping away, she lunged at him, using her momentum to drive the knife deep into his diaphragm. His eyes widened, and he took one step back and then crumpled to the floor. He landed on his side, and she kicked him onto his back and climbed on top of him. Using both hands, she yanked on the handle until the knife slid out, and rivers of blood gushed onto the floor.

Holding onto the knife with hands slippery with blood, she raised the knife. "No more being a victim."

After that, she plunged the knife into his chest again. Without words, she pulled the knife out and stabbed him again, and then again, and then once more. He writhed on the floor, gurgling as blood poured from his mouth.

The knife fell from her hands with a clatter, and then he and the kitchen and the pools of blood faded away, and she was left in a dark, peaceful stillness that she had no desire to ever leave.

Part Two

Amanda had been discussing with Fin the best way to collar Clark, once they'd made the grim discovery in his hot dog cart. She wanted to be the one to do it, but Fin had been worried she would lose her head and do something drastic. Their arguing dissolved when she got the phone call from Noah.

She had raced to Olivia's apartment, lights flashing, sirens blaring, scanning the police radio on the way over for any hint of what was going on. All she got was bits and pieces—a code for knife possession, followed by one requesting an ambulance, but there were none reporting an arrest or indicating an officer was down. But the first responders may not know that she was an officer yet. Amanda had to get up there now.

Once she arrived at the apartment, there were several uniforms, and she shouldered past them and inside, where she stopped to take in the scene. On the kitchen floor was a body covered up, a giant pool of blood forming a border around it, creating a gruesome work of art. She threw her arm over her mouth, her stomach tightening as she tried not to imagine the worst possibility.

Kat was already here and hunted her down in the crowd of officers. "Amanda. I heard Captain's apartment on the radio, headed straight over here."

"Is she-?"

"She's over there."

Kat pointed to the wall of the living room, where Olivia was hunkered on the floor, her back against the wall, arms encircling her knees. She was staring straight ahead, and Noah had his arms around her, with a death grip on her sweater, even though it was drenched in blood.

"Oh God. I assume the deceased is Clark?"

"Correct. Olivia stabbed him with a butcher knife. The first officers on the scene had to move her from him, because she was frozen like a statue. I tried talking to her…" She shook her head. "We managed to get her away from the kitchen, but she found the wall and just slid down it. Hasn't moved or responded since then."

Amanda nodded nervously. "Let me try."

Inwardly, she secretly allowed her muscles to loosen. She could breathe easier knowing that Clark was no longer alive to terrorize Olivia or anyone else. But she couldn't even imagine how raw and open Liv must be after plunging a knife into another human being, even if he was a rapist and a murderer, after the terror of dealing with him showing up at her home. Guns could be shot from a distance. Even a blunt object, like the one Liv had used on Lewis, could be used without making physical, skin-to-skin contact. But a knife was so personal—it required close-range, driven force, ripping into a person's flesh and causing a massive amount of bloodshed.

There were few things more brutal.

Amanda grabbed two blankets and approached. She flagged down the medic and said, "Can you check out this young man first?"

She squatted next to Noah and said, "Hey, bud."

He looked at her, his face scrunched up from crying, but didn't say anything. She rubbed his back. "It's okay. Everything's going to be fine now. This man needs to check you out real quick and make sure that you're not injured, and then you can come right back to your mom, okay?"

He looked at Olivia's icy stare and back at Amanda. "It's okay," she said. "She'll be here when you get back."

She held out a hand to help him up, and he hesitated for a second but took it and stood, led away by the medic. She draped a blanket over him as he walked away, and then sat down on the floor next to Olivia where Noah had been, covering her shoulders with the second blanket. Parroting Olivia, she wrapped her arms around her knees and sat staring straight ahead, where all she could see was two uniformed policemen from the torso up, standing behind Olivia's kitchen table.

"Hey, Liv," she said. "Can you hear me?"

She turned her head to look at the side of Olivia's deadpan face. "Liv? I'm here for you. And you're safe. Clark's dead."

Olivia showed no signs that she heard a word, remaining suspended in her own time and space. Amanda wondered what was going on inside her mind right now, if anything. "Maybe you don't want to hear this right now, but you did good. He can't hurt you or Noah or anyone else now."

No answer. She went on. "I don't blame you for not wanting to talk. I wouldn't even blame you if you need to take some time out of life to recover from all this. Just please, come back to me, okay?"

Now she had to fight back tears, and the silence became nearly unbearable. She reached out and found one of Olivia's blood-caked hands, peeling her fingers away from the knee it gripped so she could stroke it. "Liv? Can you feel my hand?"

Silence.

"Can you hear my voice?"

Nothing.

Amanda pleaded with her eyes, but she doubted that Olivia noticed. "Okay, then. Just know that…" She stopped to let out a few silent sobs, then said, "That I love you. And I'll be waiting for you, whenever you're ready."

Olivia still didn't say anything, but her fingers gripped Amanda's hand and tightened around it. Amanda squeezed back. Amanda saw that as a good sign and said, "That's right, I'm here." Olivia's fingers moved slowly, deliberately over the skin on the back of Amanda's hand, and now she brought Olivia's hand to her lips and gently kissed it. "You hear me, Liv?"

She thought the attempt to make contact was futile when she didn't get a response right away. But then Olivia's lips began to move, and she whispered, "Yeah."

Olivia flinched, and she turned her head slightly in Amanda's direction. "I'm just…I'm…"

Amanda shifted Olivia's hand to her other hand so she could turn toward Olivia and lightly stroke her hair. "You're in shock. It's okay, Liv." Olivia nodded slowly, and Amanda let out all the air she'd been holding in over the last few moments. "I'm glad you're back."

Slowly, Olivia unraveled her arms and legs and relaxed, leaning into Amanda, who pulled her closer until Liv's head rested on Amanda's shoulder. She kissed the top of Olivia's head, inhaling the floral smell of her hair. She rested her chin on Olivia's head and squeezed her tight in a weak attempt to protect her from the harshness of the real world, so that she would decide to stay in it.

Fin was in front of them now, squatting down to talk. "Hey, Liv," he said.

She lifted her chin, and Amanda saw that as a good sign. She was aware and attentive to her surroundings. "I told them no questioning you until you've had time to recover. He was in your apartment with a gun, so nobody's questioning your intent. But we need to get you checked out, okay?"

Her eyes were still blank, and yet she answered. "I'm—I'm not hurt."

He just stared at her. "Okay, but you know how this goes, Liv. They need to make sure, and then we have to collect evidence."

From her body. Amanda knew how this would go, too, and she knew it was going to be taxing with the fragile state Olivia was in. "C'mon," she said softly. "I'll go with you, Liv."

She rose to her feet, and as she did she held out one hand and Fin another. To her surprise, Olivia stuck out both hands and let them pull her to standing. They led a blinking Olivia to the door, and Noah ran to her, his voice dripping in desperation. "Mom! Where are you going?"

Amanda and Fin looked at each other questioningly. Noah had been separated from his mother so many times recently, and tonight had been especially traumatic. "Tell you what," Amanda said. "If the medic is finished with you, you can ride with us over to the hospital. We're just going to make sure your mom is okay."

Olivia remained expressionless, but when Noah threw his arms around her, she glanced down at him and rested a blood-covered hand on his head. He clung to her all the way out to the cruiser.

Olivia didn't say anything in the car, just stared out the window. At the hospital, Amanda stayed in the room with her and Noah, watching while medical professionals took vitals signs, gave her some meds to bring down her heart rate, checked her for injuries. She answered questions with "yes" or "no", not venturing any extra information. She had a minor cut on her hand from the knife, and they bandaged it.

A female CSI investigator arrived and said gently, "I need to collect some evidence, okay Captain Benson?"

Olivia nodded, and the woman moved in and began to scrape samples from her fingernails. Liv looked at Amanda now, who thought she saw a slight change in expression from vacant to longing. Amanda took this as a signal and moved toward her, touching her back for support. The investigator swabbed blood from Olivia's hands and scraped hair follicles and clothing fibers from her skin. Pulling out a pair of scissors, she cut away pieces of Olivia's blood-soaked sweater and put them in a bag. "I'll need the rest of her clothes when she's finished," she said.

She then unwrapped Olivia's newly-bandaged hand and measured the length of the wound and took pictures of it. Finally, she examined every area where Olivia had been bruised in the struggle and took photos of one on her thigh and a few on her knees. Amanda tried to piece together what had happened from the evidence taken from Olivia. Where had the bruises come from? And then she figured it out—those were from when she'd been on her knees, leaning over Clark as she stabbed him.

Olivia flinched a few times, but she didn't pull away, didn't retreat into a shell of despondency. When the CSI tech was finished, Olivia was finally left alone in the room with Amanda and Noah, who had fallen asleep on the examination table. Amanda now turned to face her, rubbing her arm as she said, "You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." The CSI had said it was okay to go ahead and clean the blood off her, so Amanda soaked a towel and silently got to work wiping down her hands and arms and a few spots on her face and neck. Olivia stared at the wall while she did.

Amanda threw the stained towels in the clothing bin and said, "I've got a change of clothes for you."

She pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie and set them on the examination table. "Do you want me to leave?'

Olivia shook her head tersely. "No."

She tugged off her bloody, cut sweater, and then her jeans, and Amanda grabbed her arm to steady her while she pulled off the pant legs. Methodically, she pulled on her new clothing, and now, from the outside, no stranger would have any idea about the ordeal she'd just gone through.

As Olivia tied the string on her sweatpants, Amanda stared at her, trying to drum up a slight smile. Olivia straightened and made eye contact, and Amanda brandished the manufactured smile and said, "All done."

Olivia nodded, but the corners of her lips turned down, and Amanda sensed that this was her time to move in.
"Come here," was all she said. With that, she pulled Olivia to her, hugging her tight. And then Olivia had the anticipated breakdown, resting her face against Amanda's neck, cries turning into shuddering sobs, causing her entire body to shake. Amanda held her head. "That's it. It's over. You're safe now."

It only took a couple of minutes, but it felt like such a therapeutic release to Amanda that she let loose some tears of her own. Still sniffling, Olivia lifted her head but kept her face pressed against Amanda's and said softly, "Thank you, Amanda."

"I don't know why you're thanking me." She entwined her fingers in Olivia's hair and kissed her head. "You did the hard part."