The Coffee Shop Coincidence

Chapter 25: The Final Confrontation

I start backing towards the door as I speak, "I don't understand. What did I do?"

He moves with me, "You gave your father hope, that's what you did. With you back in his life, he finally gained the courage to kick me out."

My mind flies to the night before and the hug I had left my father with. A hug? A hug is why George is upset?

But, there's still something nagging at me, "Kick you out? I thought he was friends with you?"

My hand moves to grab his phone as I see him glance over my shoulder, but he moves, quicker than I thought possible, grabbing me by the wrists and pinning me to the wall.

"Ah, ah, ah, can't have you calling anyone now can we? Especially not that horrid boyfriend of yours, Alex, right? You're a smart girl, you must have figured it out by now. Your father never stole any money, I did."

My head is spinning. This new information isn't fitting no matter how I turn it. "But why did he leave then?"

"Because I was his friend. Because he thought he could fix things. Because he wanted you and your mother out of the anger that would inevitably be coming your way as his family. His ridiculous hero complex blinded him to the reality. He spent these years paying back what he could, negotiating with courts and lawsuits."

His voice rises as he continues, "Why else would he have come back now? He had finally accepted that I could not be fixed and was prepared to throw me to the cops when he came back to you, it's too bad that I showed up and threatened to reveal what had happened and undo all of the hard work he had done by spending all of the cash he had gotten back for you and your mother. He thought if you knew he had left because of me you would never take him back, so he let me stay here, but he never told you or his precious wife."

I'm still reeling, those last few pieces of information still floating through my mind.

He continues, "When you hugged him though, he gained the courage to tell you the truth, and he decided he didn't care what I would say or do. He was going to report me, and after all my hard work this last week!"

Now, he starts laughing, "I thought for sure I was doomed after that doorknob fiasco, but your mother! Oh, your mother never saw through me! I thought that you had, but apparently not fully. Now, I'm going to take you from him, just as he was prepared to take my life away from me."

The whispered conversations and odd looks between him and my father that I had brushed off rush to the front of my brain. The story clicks, and I wish I had the time to evaluate every piece, but George is moving his face closer to mine, voice dropping to a deadly whisper as he says, "With you always parading around in those short dresses, I held onto my restraint for the sake of my deal with your father. But, I suppose that doesn't matter anymore, does it?"

I'm kicking and squirming and fighting as best I can, but he's too heavy and the room too dark and I'm hopelessly trapped as his hands are moving, at my neck, at my thigh, at the zipper of my dress. My elbow finally connects with his nose and he's rearing back, releasing me to assess the damage.

I have to get out of here. I have to move. I have to go. Yet, my legs are weak and I can only manage sliding down the wall and crawling towards the door. He moves towards me again, "Why you little-"

But, a shadow bowls him over before he can finish and a struggle ensues. I can't see who's winning, all I know is that I need to get out of the house. I finally rise off the floor and use the walls to steady me as I make my way out of the house. There's quiet from behind me and I realize someone must have won the fight.

A voice calls, "Lizzie." And I know I must be imagining it, it must be an illusion, because he wouldn't have come back, he wouldn't be here. Arms come around me from behind as I collapse again, and I'm thrashing, trying to get out of the hold. The voice sounds again, this time from next to my ear, "Lizzie, it's me. It's just me. It's Alex."

I turn in the arms and sure enough, Alex's turquoise eyes meet mine. It's the last straw to my unstable calm. I'm sobbing and pulling at his shirt, words trying to escape me but coming out as a mixed jumble of incoherent sounds.

He picks me up, moving me out onto the front step and then setting me on his lap. I'm curled in a ball, slightly calmer as he murmurs words of comfort. I finally calm to silent tears and he turns my face to his so he can talk. "It's okay, love. We're going to be okay. I promise."

I just continue staring at him. He speaks again. "I need you to answer me now, okay? Do I need to take you to a hospital?" His eyes are scanning my body, checking for marks and lingering on my slightly unzipped dress.

I shake my head. He just asks again, "If he did something we need to go now. I'll take you, but I need you to tell me."

The panic in his eyes loosens the fear that was constricting my words, "Nothing happened, not yet at least."

I start to shake and he gathers me closer to him. Sirens and lights round the corner to my street. I turn to Alex in a wordless question.

He answers, "I came to get my jacket. We're supposed to get snow tomorrow and Elinor wanted to make sure I had it so we could play. I saw the door was open and knew something was off. I called 911 as I parked, and then I ran inside."

He stops talking as cops rush the house. One cop, who looks to be higher ranking than the rest, stops to talk to Alex. "Are you Alex Rhodes?"

He responds, "I am."

"I'm Detective Rogers. My associates and I have a few questions, if you could talk to us." Focusing on me, "Is she injured?"

Alex shakes his head no.

"Okay, we should still have her examined though. If you would come with me, sir, I'll have a couple of my officers escort her to the paramedics."

At this I cling tighter to Alex and he says, "She can stay with me."

The detective nods briskly and motions for Alex to follow him to where his partners stand. Alex gently sets me on my feet, keeping both arms around my waist as we walk to the officers. As he explains his side of the story I note a handcuffed and unconscious George being carried out of the house. I press further back into Alex and he wraps his arms tighter around me, continuing his story.

I eventually am asked to contribute and I tell my side of the story, including everything George had confessed to that Alex was not present for. When I finish, we both head to the paramedics where we are examined and determined to be okay, at least physically.

I'm preparing to talk to Alex when my parents come around the ambulance. My mother is crying, my father with a grave expression on his face. I run to them, quickly enveloped by a hug. They're apologizing, words spilling out of both of them quickly. I reassure them that it's not their fault and turn to look for Alex. But, sometime after I went to my parents he disappeared.

Alex was gone.