I turned around to look just in time to take a blow right across my face.
My head jerked back hard and I was suddenly looking at the cloudy sky. My weight was driven backwards and my feet rolled back. And then I was falling. It seemed to be happening in slow motion. My thoughts slowed down and I could hear, over the spreading pain from the blow to my face, someone breathing really heavy. My shoulders hit the hard sidewalk first, and all of my weight jolted onto my upper spine. My head fell back. It hit the sidewalk with a loud cracking sound that echoed through my mind. Then all I felt was a sudden dull pain in the back of my head. My eyes crossed and I couldn’t see anything else. All I was aware of was pain and darkness.
Then all the breath was knocked out of me as a foot drove into my side with enough force to roll me over. I tumbled over and over again until coming to a stop on my back.
I wasn’t on the sidewalk any longer. My back was on soft, wet mud. My legs were in a shallow puddle.
My clothes started to soak through.
I tried to get to my hands and knees. I started coughing, deep racking coughs that felt like a lung was going to come up. My entire body was tingling from shock. My breath was ragged, harsh, not doing me any good. My head was clouding, my scalp tingling. My eyes couldn’t focus. I have-to get-away, I thought somehow through the grayness engulfing my consciousness.
Then I was being kicked again. I didn’t know if there was more than one of them, and I didn’t want to see. There was nothing I could do except curl up into a fetal position for safety. It was pure instinct, training from a long-ago self-defense class at the police academy. The blows kept coming, one after the other. I didn’t have time to register pain before the next one came. I started shivering. I wanted to scream, to beg them to stop, but I couldn’t catch my breath. And still the blows came.
One after another without a break, without any kind of respite.
I was conscious of nothing other than hurting.
This can’t be happening. I can’t be kicked to death only fifty yards from the door to a bar.
It went on.
I don’t know if I just laid there or if I rolled to try to get away.
More kicks. In the back. On my head, my arms, my stomach, my legs.
Pain screamed from every part of my body.
I raised my hands to protect my face and head.
I thought, my God, they’re going to kill me. Somebody please stop them.
And finally, mercifully, my mind went into overload and I blacked out.
Chapter Ten
I don’t know how long I was unconscious.
I came back to reality cold, wet, and aching. My ears were ringing.
Even my hair hurt.
I rolled over onto my back and winced. I moved my arms and legs. They hurt, but they still moved. I used my hands to push myself into a seated position. I felt dizzy for a moment, but willed myself to get to my knees and stand up. My head spun again when I got to my feet, and I staggered over to a chain link fence in time to keep from falling down again. I leaned against it while I ran my hands carefully over my ribs. They ached, but I was able to breathe without a lot of pain. The knuckles of my left hand were swollen, and I winced again as I pulled up my shirt to wipe the mud out of my eyes.
Whoever had attacked me was long gone.
I staggered around to the sidewalk. My head was throbbing, and I felt along the back of my head until I found a nice-sized lump where my skull had connected with the sidewalk. I ran my tongue along the inside of my teeth-they were all still there. I licked my lips, tasting dirt and blood. They were swollen and cut, but overall, I seemed to be relatively okay.
I gritted my teeth and staggered along the sidewalk until I got to Paige’s gate. I slid the key into the gate and slammed it shut behind me. Despite the throbbing pain coming from various points of my body, as I walked, my mind became clearer and the staggering seemed to be under control. My legs were sore and aching. I climbed the short staircase to her door and went in.
Paige looked up from her computer and gave a slight scream. She sprang to her feet, knocking her chair over. “Oh my God! Are you all right?”
“I didn’t get the food,” I said. The ringing was getting quieter. Now it was more like a dull buzzing sound.
Paige’s face was pale, her eyes wide. “What happened?”
“I got jumped.” I walked through her kitchen to the laundry room and turned on the hot water spigot in the sink. I looked at myself in the mirror and could understand why she screamed. I looked like something that had been dredged up from a swamp. I had a black eye and an ugly swollen bruise across my right cheek. My lips were cut and swollen. I reached for a washcloth, splashed hot water on my face, and started patting the mud and dried blood off my skin.
“You need to go to the hospital,” Paige said from the doorway. “Come on, let’s go.”
“I’m fine,” I growled back at her and looked again in the mirror. “Does Ryan have any clothes here that would fit me?” I stood back to my full height.
“You need to get checked out.”
“I’m not going to any fucking hospital,” I snapped. “Clothes! Now!”
Without a word she walked away. I heard her going up the stairs to the second floor. I pulled my shirt up over my head. “Ow, ow, ow.” The shirt was ruined, so I tossed it in the garbage pail. I started soaping up my arms and got a good look at my chest in the mirror. There were ugly bruises all over my chest and abdomen. I washed the mud off my arms. I undid my pants and eased them down. My legs were bruised as well.
“Here.” Paige placed a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt on the washing machine behind me. “Chanse, are you sure about going to the emergency room? You look horrible, really.”
“I’m just bruised up is all.” I knelt down with a moan and put my head under the rushing hot water. I massaged soap into my hair, carefully rubbing around the lump. I rinsed the soap out and wrapped a towel around my head. I took off my filthy muddy underwear and pulled the sweatpants on. She handed me two Tylenols after I gingerly pulled the sweatshirt over my head. I felt somewhat better. And with the mud and blood washed away, I just looked like I’d been in a fight. A bad one, granted, that I hadn’t won, but at least I wouldn’t scare small children any more. I walked into her living room and popped the Tylenol. I sat down on the couch.
“Maybe we should call Venus and Blaine-“
“I didn’t see who it was, Paige.” I eased back against the back cushions. “I heard someone running up behind me, and when I turned around I took a nasty punch to the face. I got knocked down, and the son of a bitch kept kicking me until I passed out.”
Now that the shock had passed, I was starting to get mad.
“This wasn’t a mugging,,” I went on. “This was a warning. From Frillian.”
“You don’t know that-“
“Jay Robinette did this.” I shushed her. “I’m not that easy to take down. Whoever hit me was strong enough to knock me off my feet-and he was at least as tall as I am, if not taller.” I pointed to the bruise on my right cheek. “Look at this! No one shorter than me could have hit me so hard here. Or bruised me like this.” I placed my own fist up against the bruise. “See the angle? It was a straight-on punch, not from below.” I was getting angrier. “It was Jay Robinette, all right.” I clenched my teeth. “I may not be able to prove it, but Frillian sent me a message tonight. Obviously, they don’t want me to find out what Freddy did.”
“Movie stars don’t-“
I interrupted her, pointing at my face. “Whatever Freddy did in his past, it was bad. Bad enough that they don’t want anyone to ever find out about it. Well, this time, they fucked with the wrong private eye.” I gave her a grim smile. “I’m bringing those Hollywood assholes down.”