Here is the second installment! Hope this gives a little insight to what had happened before Chapter One.

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Café et fraises

Chapter Two

Returning home

'Tommy, please.' The words left her lips before she could stop them, her hands held out in front of her. 'Don't do this.'

'Why not?' the older man hissed, leering. Lucy took a couple more steps back, her throat dry. She was pale with fright, blue eyes wide.

'Please, no,' she said, voice thick. Tears stung her eyes, heart thundering in her chest a million miles per hour. The knife clenched in his fist was long and thick. She tried to swallow but her throat was dry.

'Someone has to pay,' he snapped, eyes burning with murderous anger. 'Someone has to die for what I've lost.'

'It wasn't my fault!' she squeaked, backing up against the cold stone wall of the warehouse. 'I wasn't even there.'

'It will hurt them to loose you!' Tommy snarled, lurching forward. With a terrified scream, Lucy dodged the flashing blade, running straight into a pile of empty cardboard boxes. They toppled over and she kept on running. Lucy could hear his bellowing footsteps coming after her; almost feel him reaching out to grab her shirt, her hair, anything.

She was going to die. She could feel it in her mind, in the blood pumping through her veins, in the sweat beading her forehead. She was going to die at the hands of a maniac. Reasoning didn't work. She had tried that. All she could do now was run. Run or fight. She hoped it wouldn't come to the latter. Lucy changed direction, almost running into a forklift truck. She couldn't see an exit and the only windows were high, high up. The dust was choking and her eyes watered by holding in the urge to cough.

'I'm going to kill you. Shred you up and post you to your good for nothing brothers.' Lucy gasped at how close his voice was; almost as if he was playing with her by making her run. The stitch in her side made her wince. Swinging out, she knocked more boxes behind her, heard Tommy stumble with a cry.

But there was no where for her to go. She had ran to a dead end; met with high piles of crates and boxes. No where to run, no where to hide. Desperately, Lucy grabbed hold of a piece of wood from a crate and hauled herself up. Desperately, she climbed, but there was a tight hold on her ankle and she was yanked down to the cold, damp concrete. Desperately she struggled, but he had her like a crocodile with its prey.

Tommy smiled down at her, almost calmly as he pinned her to the ground. Lucy could feel the dampness seeping through her thin t-shirt.

'No!' she cried out, trying to raise her arms to defend herself but he pinned them down with his knees.

'Tell Stevie I say hi,' he smirked. 'If you make it.' A crazed laugh escaped his lips, as he slammed the knife down. It cut through her chest and she screamed. She felt her blood soak the front of her shirt instantly, the feel of the blade leaving her skin stung.

She didn't want to die. This was not the way Lucy Dunham was going to die. Gritting her teeth against the pain, Lucy reached her hand out for something, anything. Tommy raised the knife again, the silver blade gleaming with dark red blood. Her blood.

This angered her. How dare he be the conductor of her life. How dare he choose when she dies. She continued to grabble, her fingers meeting something cold and hard. The knife fell down again and this time she was ready. Lucy swung the item upwards, slamming the knife out of his hands. It slid across the floor with a metallic grate. Tommy froze for a moment, stunned. The second blow grazed him across the skull. He fell forwards, head beside hers.

It was getting blurry. With a sob, Lucy pushed him off her. Tommy rolled on his side and she dropped the wrench she was still holding. She only just managed to stagger to her feet. She wasn't going to die. She wasn't going to die. Lucy repeated that in her head, gritting her teeth so hard her jaw ached. She needed to get out of here. Holding in her tears, she placed her hand over her bleeding chest, trying to stop the blood flow. It hurt a lot, a burning feeling.. When she thought she was as far away from Hatcher as possible, Lucy leaned against the wall, trying to get her breath back, her energy drained. She had to escape.

'I'm not going to die,' she hissed, eyes brimming with tears. She sniffed. 'Not today. Not at the hands of him.' She could see the entrance ahead, the door half open. And with a deep breath, she staggered towards it.

Lucy opened her eyes. The train was slowing; the posters pinned on the subway walls were becoming clearer. Libby murmured something in her sleep, curled up on the seat beside her, tank squeezed in her arms. Some of the water had sloshed out and Henry was staring at Lucy lazily, with his one good eye.

She didn't know why she was alive today. She didn't know how she had lived. All she remembered was staggering into the road and then waking up in hospital after being out for nearly a week. Lifting up her hand, she slowly lowered the front of her top, gazing down at the long scar that ran partly across the top of her breast. Lucy dropped her hand, getting to her feet.

'Libby,' she called. 'Libby!' The smaller woman jerked awake, sitting up. Her hair was messy, the front of her shirt a little damp from the sloshed water.

'We there?' she asked, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

'Almost,' Lucy replied, as the train chugged to a stop. 'Come on.' They grabbed their suitcases and dragged them off, across the subway platform towards the escalators. They were broken, so they had a little trouble pulling their luggage to the top, more water sloshing on the stairs. They passed a tramp sleeping on a blanket, his Jack Russell staring after them beadily. The two women got to the staircase that would lead them outside.

'My arms hurt,' complained Libby. Lucy laughed.

'You shouldn't have brought your whole home then.'

'I didn't know how long we'd be away!' Libby protested, as they finally emerged at the top. 'Oh,' Libby said softly, as the two stared out at the group of men fighting wildly. A blonde was busy slamming another man's head in a phone box window. The familiar face made Lucy's stomach lurch.

'Pete?'

His head snapped up.

And identical blue eyes met.

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