Chapter 8

Holding the screwdriver and chisel in her right hand, Karen listened to the approaching footsteps. With her left hand, she reached up to touch her mother's necklace. It was gone. Her mother's necklace. "That bastard," she thought, as rage welled up in her. She transferred the chisel to her left hand and made her decision. Better to try to take him by surprise than be caught cowering behind the door. When the door started to open, she pushed back on it as hard as she could. Her captor staggered but stayed on his feet. She ran.

"Bitch!" he screamed as he pursued her across the room. He was blocking her path to the only exit. Somehow she had to get past him. She stopped and turned to face him, raising her right arm to stab him with the screwdriver. He grabbed her arm and stopped her. She slashed at his arm with the chisel, opening a gash. He screamed and let go of her arm. She retreated behind the chair and picked it up. When he charged her, she threw it at him, but it didn't stop him. She tried to circle around him to reach the door, but he caught up with her and grabbed her in a bear hug. Still holding the chisel in her left hand, she stabbed down and hit her target. Howling in pain, he released her and doubled over, clutching his groin. She sprinted for the door. Just outside it, she almost collided with Daredevil.

She found herself in another bear hug. "Thank God," he whispered. "Are you OK?"

"Yes, I'm OK, I'm OK. He's in there." She gestured toward the door.

He handed her his phone. "Call Foggy, tell him it's the third location, and to call Brett now."

Karen's captor was getting to his feet when Daredevil entered the room. "Shit," he muttered. Rashly, he charged. Daredevil met him halfway and landed an uppercut to his jaw. He swayed but stayed upright. Then he connected with a roundhouse punch that rocked Daredevil back on his heels. He hit harder than Daredevil expected but lacked fighting skills and didn't know how to defend himself. He telegraphed his punches, and Daredevil dodged or deflected them. Daredevil then went on the offensive, landing punches to his opponent's head and body and lashing out with his right foot to kick him in the rib cage. He groaned and held his hands up in front of his face. Daredevil went in close and landed a series of punches to the kidneys, followed by hits to both sides of his head. His opponent went down. He didn't try to fight back or even get up, but the devil didn't care. Screaming wordlessly, he continued to pummel the man until he was unconscious and covered in blood.

"Matt! Stop!" a woman screamed. "You're gonna kill him."

The devil heard her. Her voice sounded as if she was far away. He knew that voice. He stopped and stood up. "Karen?"

"I'm right here, Matt."

He leaned forward, panting, with his hands on his knees. He breathed in the coppery smell of the other man's blood – and his own. His opponent was still out, but his heartbeat and breathing were steady. He'd live. Minutes passed. The devil retreated. Matt stayed where he was, letting his rage slowly fade away. He stood up straight and took a deep breath, then held out his arms to Karen.

She crossed the room but stopped a few feet away from him. "Jesus, Matt," she whispered. "What the hell was that?" Her heart was racing. She was afraid. Not of her captor. Of him. Of the devil in him.

He let his arms fall to his sides. "Karen, I – " He began. What was he going to say? That he didn't know what got into him? He knew, all right. "Karen, I'm sorry," he said hopelessly.

"No," she said fiercely. "This isn't on you. It's on that piece of shit over there." She gestured in the direction of her still-unconscious captor.

"Maybe. But you were scared – of me." She started to answer him, but he interrupted her before she could speak. "Don't try to deny it. I could tell."

She sighed. "I was scared."

He hung his head. "I would never hurt you like that, Karen."

"I'm not afraid of you, Matt." Her heartbeat was strong and steady. "Not for myself. But that– " she gestured toward the unmoving shape on the floor. "That was scary."

"Maybe you should be," he said quietly, "afraid of me, I mean."

"No." She shook her head. "If that's true, maybe you should be afraid of me. I've hurt people, too." She paused for a beat, then continued. "What I am afraid of . . . I'm afraid for you, of what this – " she waved her hand " – could do to you."

Matt had no answer for that. He held out his arms to her again. This time she went to him and embraced him. He lifted her chin to kiss her. "I'm not kissing you in that thing," she said, tapping his mask. He chuckled but didn't take it off. He pressed his gloved fingertips to his lips, then caressed her cheek. She flinched when he touched the gash made by her captor's ring.

He jerked his hand away. "You sure you're OK?" he asked.

"Yes. So what took you so long, Mr. Daredevil?"

He grinned. "I knew you could handle him, Ms. Page."

He heard sirens in the distance. "Cops are coming," he told her.

"Go, go," she said, handing him his phone. "I got this."

"Yeah. I noticed." He squeezed her hand, then turned and sprinted to the stairs. He stayed on the roof until two police cars drove away. One was taking the battered but conscious suspect – whose name, he now knew, was Nick Carbone – to be checked out at the jail ward at Metro-General. He smiled knowingly when he heard the name. Karen had been on the right track all along. The other car was taking Karen to the ER at Metro-General. He called Foggy to let him know, then took off across the rooftops, heading home to change out of his suit, so he could meet Karen and Foggy at the hospital.

It was a long night at Metro-General. The ER was busy, and they had to wait for the on-call plastic surgeon to finish a complicated surgery, before he could stitch Karen up. She didn't want to wait, but Foggy insisted it needed to be done right, to lessen the chance of scarring. Matt suspected Karen might secretly want to have a scar, as a badge of honor.

When Karen was finally discharged from the ER, she went home with Matt. Her apartment was still a crime scene, and she didn't want to go there, anyway. Not yet. She lay down on the bed, and he held her until she fell asleep, exhausted from her ordeal and the many hours in "fight or flight" mode. He unwound more slowly but finally slept for a few hours.

In the morning, they lingered over breakfast, delaying their departure for the 15th Precinct and the unavoidable questioning, statements, and fingerprinting and DNA swabs "for exclusionary purposes." They sipped their coffee in companionable silence, content simply to be in each other's company. When Matt finished his second cup of coffee, he set the mug down on the table and turned toward her. "Why, Karen?" he asked.

"Why what?"

"Why'd you do it, put yourself in harm's way like that?"

Karen scoffed. "You're asking me that?"

"We both know I'm a lost cause," he said with a half-smile. "But, please, help me understand."

"Being kidnapped wasn't part of the plan – "

"Well, that's a relief," he muttered under his breath.

"You wanna hear this or not?" she demanded.

"Sorry. Go on, please." He waved his hand.

"Do you remember what the profiler said about guys like him, how they're hard to catch because they plan carefully, and when they do get caught, it's because they didn't plan?"

Matt nodded. "Yeah, I remember that."

"So I thought, if he was provoked, maybe he wouldn't plan so carefully. Maybe he would make a mistake."

Matt considered this. "OK. That even makes sense, I guess. But why you? Why did you have to do it?"

She didn't answer him right away. He sensed her uncertainty. Then her breathing changed; she had decided to speak. "I don't think I ever told you this before," she began, "but when I left Vermont after . . . after Kevin . . . died, it was because my dad threw me out. He said he didn't want me there anymore."

"Oh, Karen," Matt whispered.

"When I left home, I wasn't much older than those girls – the ones we talked to on the street, the ones Nick killed. If things had turned out differently, I could have been one of them. You know what their lives are like – "

He nodded. "Yeah. I do."

"Their lives are miserable – and then to be taken and killed, probably tortured before they were killed. I couldn't let that keep happening. I had to do something." Her voice trembled. She took a shuddering breath. "You of all people should understand that." She began to sob, holding her head in her hands.

"I understand. I do," he said softly. More than anything, he wanted to reach out to her and hold her, but he knew, somehow, that he shouldn't. He had to let her come to him. Finally she did. He held her, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head, until her sobs subsided. He handed her a tissue, and she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. Then she took both of his hands in hers.

"I need to do . . . what I do . . as much as you need to be Daredevil," she said. "You know that, right?"

"I know." He raised her hands to his lips and kissed them. "God help us, I wouldn't have it any other way."

Epilogue

Maleek Jackson was released from custody the next day. Foggy was already salivating at the prospect of a lawsuit for malicious prosecution, false imprisonment, section 1983 civil rights violations, and any other causes of action he could dream up. Several weeks later, Maleek and Matt went a few rounds in the ring at Fogwell's. Maleek declared the match a draw, but Matt wasn't so sure.

When the cops searched Nick's SUV, his treasure box – including Karen's mother's necklace – was still in the glove compartment. The necklace would be returned to Karen when it was no longer needed as evidence. Weeks later, DNA results finally came back on the victims. Nick's DNA was found on the swabs taken from one of them. Nick agreed to plead guilty to her murder and Karen's kidnapping. The best deal Ben Donovan could negotiate for him was 25 to life.

The two cops who had arrested Maleek caved quickly and flipped on Carlo Morelli. He was found guilty of bribery and conspiracy and sentenced to prison. The cops were both fired from the NYPD but were not criminally charged, in exchange for their testimony and their agreement not to contest their firings.

Rosalie Carbone avoided prosecution. The two cops couldn't implicate her in the conspiracy to frame Maleek. They only dealt with Morelli, who never mentioned her name. Morelli remained loyal, steadfastly refusing to testify against her.

Acting on an anonymous tip and other information, the NYPD raided Turk Barrett's shop and seized dozens of illegal firearms from the back room. Preferring a stretch in custody to a bullet in the back of the head, Turk declined to name his suppliers or his customers. He was convicted on firearms charges and went to prison.

Pete Silva left New York immediately after reporting he had lost the tail on Nick. He eventually made his way to a remote area of Idaho, where he joined a militia.

Lolita and Cherry wondered what happened to Jewel, but only for a few days. On the streets, girls came and went all the time. And Lolita and Cherry had problems of their own. Jewel's grave was never found.