From Prey to Precious

Events of the Day

Rachel's POV:

After the events from this morning, I'm sore and just feel both mentally and physically exhausted. I know that I have to try and find another job otherwise I won't be able to afford living here and I really don't have anywhere else to go. But before I can even start to think about where to look for new employment, I need to re-center myself. I can't exactly put my best foot forward and try to get a new job if I'm a total wreck.

I walk into my apartment and take a deep breath as I close the door and rest my head against it as I try to calm my racing heart. Turning the deadbolt and attaching the chain to the door makes me feel a little bit better, but my heart is still pounding. I take a few more deep breaths before pushing away from the door and making my way over to my futon and tossing my backpack to the floor before unceremoniously plopping down onto it's not-so-soft cushion. I lean my head back against the backrest and rub my temples, trying to massage away the headache that is starting to form behind my eyes.

As I am rubbing my temples and taking deep cleansing breaths, someone begins pounding on my door hard enough to rattle the chain. I almost let a frightened little squeak escape my throat as I sit bolt upright at the unexpected racket.

"Ju-Just a minute," I call to whomever is pounding on my door as I get up off of the futon. I wish my voice hadn't sounded so shaky but there's nothing I can do about it.

When I approach the door I look through the peephole and see two uniformed police officers standing on the other side looking mildly annoyed. "Oh just great," I think to myself as I rest my forehead against the door once again. Unfortunately that was about the same time that one of the officers started pounding his fist on my door again. This is not helping my state of mind, or my headache in the slightest.

"Open up, this is the police," the annoyed cop yells loud enough for my entire floor to hear.

I hurriedly unhook the chain and turn the deadbolt. I open the door just as the officer's fist starts to descend so he can start pounding on my poor door again.

"Yes officers, how can I help you?" I say as I peak my head around the side of the door, keeping my body, including my ripped shirt mostly hidden from their view.

The officers look me over, at least the parts that are visible from the behind the door, and then look past me into my apartment. I don't know what they are expecting to find, or what they are expecting to see, but evidently whatever it is they don't find it and seem to be slightly annoyed at the fact.

"We received a report of an altercation that you were supposedly involved in over at 'Beans & Things' this morning. Do you know anything about that?" he asks as he rests his hands on his belt.

I feel my shoulders slump slightly as I stare back at the officers and allow the door to open a bit more, revealing the state of my clothes and the bruising and scratches decorating the left side of my face. I look the officer square in the eye as he takes in my appearance, his eyes widening slightly as he finally notices the damage to my clothes isn't a fashion choice but obviously the result of the violence inflicted upon my person this morning.

"Yeah... I might know something about it. Would you like to come in?" I offer as I open the door a bit wider and take a step back so that they can walk past me and into the apartment.

I'm so sick of this. I'm normally a very nice and cooperative person, but I just don't have anymore f***s to give today. I just want to get these guys out of my apartment as quick as possible so that I can crawl into the shower, clean myself up a bit and veg out on the futon with the pint of ice-cream I have in the freezer while watching some mind-numbing drivel on television before going to work tonight.

The officers breeze past me into the living room and look around at the state of my apartment. It's not messy, but it's definitely sparsely furnished. My living room, if you can even call it that, has a small futon, a large trunk that doubles as my coffee table and an entertainment center that is barely big enough to hold my television, game console system and a few DVD's. Everything is mismatched and it's not hard to tell that all of the things in my living room are second or third hand pieces with scratches and/or marker drawings on them from the previous owners child. It doesn't bother me though. It all performs it's function and I don't have anyone to impress so I don't really care what it looks like. 

I walk over to the futon and take a seat, leaning back and draping my right arm on top of the back of the futon, making sure that my scraped hand is in plain view of the officers. I appear to settle down onto the futon as I gesture towards my small kitchen table with the mismatched chairs.

"Please officers, have a seat," I say with as little inflection as possible.

"No thank you ma'am, we just have a few questions about the events of this morning if you don't mind," the first officer says as he produces a small notebook and pen from his pocket. "We received a call from one of the employees at 'Beans & Things' about an altercation that occurred this morning between the owner and one of his female employees. Would you happen to know anything about that?" he asks as he widens his stance a bit.

I take a breath and sigh a little as I remember what happened after I walked out of the café this morning.

                                                *    *    *    *    * Flashback *    *    *    *    *

After checking my non-existent make-up in my side mirror I swing my leg over my bike and settle myself into the seat. I swing my backpack around in front of me so I can get my helmet and keys to go home and figure out what the heck I'm going to do for a job now, when someone roughly grabs me by the hair.  I let out a yell as I'm pulled off of my bike and thrown onto the ground, my face scraping against the pavement as I fall. 

"You think you can just walk away from me you little pissant?" Devin screams down at me. His ham hock hands clenched into fists as he takes a threatening step towards me.

I prop myself up on my already injured hands and wait for him to get a little closer. Once he is right in front of me, I pull my leg back and kick him square in the stomach with everything that I've got. His eyes go wide as he puts his hands to his middle, as if trying to hold onto the wind I've just knocked out of him. I allow myself a small smirk as I pick myself up off the ground as he falls to his knees.

I kneel down so that I am eye level with him as he continues to try and catch his breath, "Yes, actually I do," I say with a small humorless laugh.

You would think that I would know better than to poke the bear of a man when I've already humiliated him not once, but twice, but no, I just had to get that one last dig in. Unfortunately for me he managed to recover just enough to land a punch right to the side of face with enough force to make my teeth rattle. I whip my face back around and snarl at him as I return the favor and punch him right in the nose. I can feel the cartilage crunch beneath my knuckles as blood begins to pour out of his nose and his eyes roll back before he falls to the ground.

"Asshole..." I swear under my breath as I stand up and walk back over to my bike as I get the keys out of my backpack. My adrenaline is still pumping as I swing my leg over and start the engine, completely forgetting about my helmet as I kick up the stand and ride away.

                                         *     *     *     *    *End Flashback*     *     *     *     *    * 

The officers listen as I recount my side of the story to them, not really asking many questions but writing copious notes. The fact that they haven't asked me to repeat anything that I've said or ask any questions doesn't particularly sit right with me, but I'm not going to push my luck. I'll be lucky if this meeting doesn't end with me being paraded downstairs in handcuffs. But then again, I'm kind of out of f***s to give at this point.

"Thank you for your cooperation Ms. Langston. Your statement will be included in our final report," the officer who really hasn't said anything up to now states as he extends his hand towards me.

I can't hide the confusion from my face as I stand up and take his hand. "Not a problem. Am I under arrest?"

The officer's handshake is firm but not over bearing and he doesn't try to hold onto my hand as I let go. He gives a small chuckle and shakes his head slightly, "No ma'am. You were only defending yourself, which corroborates with the story and the video that we were already given." He reaches into his front breast pocket and hands me a business card, "if you would like to press charges, please give us a call. I hope that the rest of your day goes a little smoother."

I'm more than a little flabbergasted as I take his business card and tuck it into my back pocket. As I show the officers to the door I still don't completely understand what just happened. As I hold the door open for the officers and they make their way out to the hallway, I manage to give them both a small, but genuine smile, and receive an equally small hat tip in return.

"That definitely was not how I was expecting that to go," I mutter to myself as I replace the chain on the door and lock the deadbolt. I walk back over to the futon and curl my legs under me as I snuggle back into my spot. I sit for a few moments before leaning down and pulling my backpack towards me and then up into my lap.

I figured before I really started job hunting in earnest, I might as well try and see if I could get more hours at the garage. I loved working on cars and motorcycles and truth be told I would much rather be covered in oil, grease, dirt and sweat, than have a fake smile plastered on my face as I serve one more rude customer whatever hoity toity coffee thing they ordered. I grabbed my phone from my backpack and then scrolled through my contacts until I came to the one for "Actual Work" and hit the call button.

The phone only rang three times before a familiar male voice answered, "Vinnie's Garage how can I help you?"

"Hey Manny, it's Rachel, how are you?"

"Hey beautiful! Much better now that I'm talking to you," he laughs at himself a little before continuing. "What's up? Aren't you supposed to be at the coffee house right now?"

"Actually, that's why I'm calling. I finally had it out with Devin this morning and it looks like I have more free time then I'd like."

"Oh hon, I'm sorry. But hey, at least you don't have to deal with that jerk anymore!"

I give a half-hearted laugh as I reply, "Yeah that's true. Do you think Vinnie would let me pick up a few more hours at the garage? I'd really rather be there than trying to find another part time job."

"Sorry gorgeous but we already don't have enough work to go round. We're going to have to start cleaning the office and filing paperwork just to keep some people busy."

"Crap... well, it was worth a try.. thanks though Manny," I can't keep the disappointment out of my voice as I run my fingers through my hair and look up at my ceiling.

"Look... I normally wouldn't even offer this but I know how hard up you are for cash. I have a friend that works at another garage and they are always looking for help. But the place is a little on the sketchy side, if you know what I mean. If you want I can give them a call and see if they could use a hand after your shift here?"

"Oh really? Manny that would be fantastic! I really owe you one," I exclaim as I bounce on my toes, amazed at my luck today.

"No problem! But listen, if you get a bad vibe from this place, just cut bait and get out of there ok? It wouldn't be any skin off my nose."

"Thanks, I'll remember that. So what's the name of this place?"

"Black Widow Customs"