Chapter 5
"Abby wants to see you."
Luka could hear the anger in his voice. Carter obviously did not want to make this call. But he was doing it for Abby. Because he loved her.
What was it between Carter and Abby? Luka didn't know, but he didn't like it when any man was that friendly with his girlfriend. Sometimes it seemed like she wanted to be with Carter more than she wanted to be with him. Lately, it seemed like that most of the time.
What did Abby want? Carter said she didn't remember any of what had happened that night; did she want to ask him what he saw? As he was headed out the door, he was hit with a sudden revelation. Abby didn't remember that night. Which meant she didn't remember that they had broken up. So she wouldn't be mad like she was the last time he had spoken to her.
Grabbing his coat, he headed for the door.
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"Hi, Abby."
He could almost feel Carter lurking outside the door, waiting for him to do something evil so he could come pouncing back in, demanding that Luka leave. But this visit wasn't about Carter, it was about Abby, and he had every intention of ignoring Carter's presence.
He wanted to take Abby in his arms, apologize for everything he had done, and ask her for another chance. But this was neither the time nor the place for that. "How are you doing?"
"Okay. My head's still killing me, thought," Abby said and Luka felt a wave of guilt. Why hadn't he walked her home? He could have kept all of this from happening.
"Abby, I'm so sorry about all this. I should have walked home with you," Luka began.
"Luka, what happened that night?" Abby asked, interrupting his prepared monologue.
Luka took a deep breath. How much should he tell her? "Well, we went out to dinner, and...we took the El home...we started fighting, yelling at each other. I followed you off the El; we were still arguing. Then...I left. I walked away, got back on the El, and went home, and I didn't know what had happened until Carter called me from the hospital to tell me you had been injured."
"What were we arguing about?" Abby wanted to know everything. Maybe that would help her to get her memory back.
Luka had been dreading this point in the conversation, but he knew it was coming. He didn't want to tell her the truth, but if he didn't, if she remembered later she would wonder why he hadn't told her. So he opted for a condensed version. "We had gone to the diner and you wanted to go home and so you went to wait outside, and I stayed inside at the bar," Luka said, rushing to get the whole story out, hoping she wouldn't press him for any more details. He didn't want to tell her about the names they had called each other, the hiss of their angry whispers as they rode on the El, wanting to argue but not wanting the other passengers to hear them having a fight. He didn't want to tell her how he had said he didn't want her anymore.
"I waited outside? Wow, I must have been pretty pissed at you," Abby joked, trying to lighten the mood. Luka smiled, but he felt an unexplainable sadness. Would she still be joking if she remembered what he had said to her that night, how he had broken up with her? He didn't think so. It was like the slate had been wiped clean. He had been given a fresh start; what was he going to do with it?
He would try to keep the mood light, just like Abby had. "Yeah, you were. But I acted like a jerk; I'm sorry about that."
"It's okay," Abby said, though she felt strange accepting an apology for an event that she couldn't even remember. "So what else happened?"
"That was pretty much it," Luka said, hoping she wouldn't press him for details.
"The cops think you did it," Abby said, ending the brief period of levity.
Luka looked her eye to eye. this was the most important part; he had to convince Abby that he was innocent. It seemed like she was the only one who believed he just might not be guilty. "Abby, I would never hurt you; I hope you know that. I was upset that night, but I would never let my emotions get that out of hand."
Abby nodded. "Okay," she said. What did the expression on her face mean? He wasn't quite sure.
Before he could think on the subject any further, two cops burst into the room interrupted him. "Luka Kovac?" Then, without even giving him a chance to identify himself, the first one said, "We have a warrant for your arrest." They moved towards him.
Luka's eyes widened in fear. He backed away from the men slowly, trying to avoid the inevitable. This couldn't be happening; he was innocent! "Abby! Say something! Tell them I didn't do it!" Then, "Abby?"
Abby's eyes were closed.
"Abby!" Carter yelled, running back into the room. After taking a quick look at her, he hit the nurse's call button.
"Is she okay?" Luka asked as he was being dragged out the door. But by the time Carter answered, he was already gone.
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When Abby woke up, she saw two familiar faces. One was Carter, the other was Dr. Brent, her neurologist. "Abby, you're awake," said Dr. Brent, stating the obvious.
"What happened?" Abby asked groggily.
"You passed out. It's probably a side effect of your head injury. We did a head CT, and it looks like there may be some permanent damage."
Abby was still slightly disoriented, but she got the gist of Dr. Brent's statement. "You mean permanent brain damage?"
"We're not sure yet. We have to give you a couple more days, to allow the swelling to go down, then we can run some tests."
Abby closed her eyes and laid her head back on her pillow. this couldn't be happening. What if she was permanently disabled because of her attack?
Abby suddenly remembered that, before she passed out, there had been another person in the room. "Where's Luka?" she asked Carter, not opening her eyes.
"He got arrested," Carter informed her.
Abby's eyes flew open. "What? When? Why?" She realized that she was asking entirely too many questions, but she felt like she had to know everything.
"I would assume right after you passed out, though I guess maybe Luka was just in here with you unconscious and he didn't notice." Abby could hear the anger in his voice. "The eyewitnesses both signed statements, and evidently that was enough for the police. Two cops came in here and took him out."
"But he attacked me! Don't they have to ask me before they arrest him?"
Abby realized what she had just said. It was a slip of the tongue, but was it a Freudian slip? Did she really believe in Luka's innocence anymore?
As if he was reading her thoughts, Carter asked, "Do you still think he's innocent?"
"I really don't know. When I asked him what happened that night, something just...didn't seem right about his story. It seemed like he was hiding something from me. I would hate to think he'd do something like this, but could two witnesses be wrong?"
"Are you going to drop charges against him?"
"I don't know," Abby admitted. "I have to find out what happened that night before I decide anything. I have to get my memory back."
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Carter didn't like the idea, but Abby had insisted. "Maybe it'll jog my memory. Aren't you interested in finding out what really happened that night?" So Carter found himself pushing Abby's wheelchair down 75th Street, trying to find the spot where she had been attacked.
It didn't take long.
"Think that's it?" Carter asked, gesturing to a part of the sidewalk that was sectioned off with police tape.
"I guess so. I would be walking by here if I came home by the El." Abby concentrated hard on the patch of sidewalk, as if it was going to form a mouth and tell her what had happened that night.
"Remember anything?" Carter asked after a few minutes silence.
Abby sighed. "No," she admitted. "Can we go back up towards the El? Maybe I'll remember something there."
"Sure," Carter said, wheeling her up the street. Abby felt stupid in the wheelchair, but the doctor had insisted, saying she didn't have all her strength back yet. Besides, she face was covered in bruises and she had gauze wrapped around her head; she couldn't get much stupider.
Both Carter and Abby were silent as Carter pusher her up the street, then back down. Abby's focus was intense; she knew how important it was that she remember what had happened.
"Did you say something?" Carter asked.
"I said I can't remember anything. This isn't helping." With a defeated sigh, she said, "Let's just go back to the hospital."
As Carter wheeled Abby back to the car, he wondered: if this wouldn't help her remember what had happened that night, what would?