Sweetie's Diamonds (53 page)

“Mom?”
 
David's eyes went wide.

“Just do as I say.”

As he turned to go, Diane peered into the dark hallway leading to the two bedrooms.
 
She flicked on the light and saw nothing amiss.
 
Taking one step at a time she first looked in David's room.
 
She turned on his light and everything appeared to be all right.
 
Her own bedroom door was closed but she always kept it that way.
 
She stepped softly to the door and listened for the slightest sound on the other side.
 
There was silence.
 

She abruptly flung the door open, reached inside, and turned on the light.
 

The room was empty.
 
Her bed was made and the same clothes she had left draped over a chair were still there.
 
Nothing seemed disturbed.

Diane put a foot over the threshold, looked in all the corners, and breathed a sigh of relief.
 
The break-in was puzzling but apparently whoever had done it had gotten cold feet and left without taking anything.

“It's okay, David,” she called.
 
“No one's here.”

Her heart was pounding and she needed a drink of water.
 
She walked into her bathroom and turned on the light, then reached for the plastic cup on the counter.
 

The black figure appeared in the corner of her eye and she screamed.
 
The tall, hulking man swung an arm at her and she felt the sharp sting of a blade on her upper arm.
 

Diane's training in martial arts came into play and once again saved her life.
 
It was pure instinct for her to raise her left arm and block a second attack.
 
She simultaneously twisted her body to deliver a kick to the assailant's groin but she missed, hitting the man's thigh instead.
 
Although the two maneuvers successfully surprised the attacker long enough for her to leap backward out of the bathroom, she lost her balance and failed to land on her feet.
 
Diane tumbled onto her rear and back, slamming her head on the side of her bed.
 

“Mom?”
 
David came running when he heard her scream.
 
Standing just outside the bedroom, he saw the intruder as the man stepped out of the bathroom.
 

It was some kind of monster.
 
He was dressed in black but the leather was torn in places.
 
The face was also dark, with repulsive red splotches covering most of his features.
 
The thing had long, dirty hair but there were patches missing from a blackened scalp.
 

David suddenly realized he was looking at a burn victim.
 
The skin on the man's face, scalp, and hands were hideously ulcerated, the open sores having been scabbed over with black and brown crust.
 

It was Emo Tuff.
 

The eye patch was gone and there was a bottomless pit where his eyeball should have been.
 

David screamed.

Tuff turned to the boy, his one good eye ablaze with hate and fury.
 
Something like a snarl escaped from the man's deformed mouth.
 

“Run, David!” Diane yelled.
 
She attempted to scramble up the side of the bed to get out of Tuff's way but he had focused his attention back to her.
 
He grabbed her leg and pulled her toward him, ready to strike her in the thigh with the stiletto but she kicked him in the stomach with the free leg.
 
The blow did little damage but it caused his aim to go off as he thrust the blade deep into the mattress.
 
He had to let go of her leg in order to pull out the knife, giving her the chance she needed to get away.
 

David was frozen, unable to move.
 

“David!
 
Run!
 
Call 911!” Diane yelled as she flipped her body over the bed to the other side.
 
The boy snapped out of it and quickly ran down the hall toward the living room and kitchen.
 

Tuff moved to the edge of the bed, blocking Diane's way out of the bedroom.
 
He held the stiletto in front of him, underhanded, ready to stab or slice his prey as soon as she got close enough.

David made it to the kitchen, picked up the phone, and punched 9-1-1.
 
Nothing happened.
 
He tried again and then realized there was no dial tone.
 
The phone was completely dead.
 
Tuff had most likely cut the wires.
 

He cursed to himself and wondered what he should do.
 
He could run outside and try to get help or he could stay and attempt to defend his mother.
 
David looked around the kitchen for some kind of weapon, then opened the utensil drawer.
 
He grabbed the biggest and sharpest knife he could see, the one his mother always used to carve turkeys on Thanksgiving.
 
Without thinking of the peril, he ran back to the hallway in time to see Tuff, the man's back to him, facing his mother with the bed between them.
 

David rushed at the attacker, jumped, and plunged the carving knife into Tuff's back.
 
The blade caught on something hard—probably a rib, David thought—and glanced off without penetrating too deeply.
 
It was enough to hurt the man, though.
 
Tuff roared like a beast and twisted his torso fast and hard, knocking David off of him.
 
David crashed into his mother's dresser and fell to the floor.
 

“David!” his mother cried.
 
A primal, protective instinct motivated Diane to jump on top of the bed and leap at Tuff, throwing all her weight at him.
 
He grappled with her but her momentum was too great—Tuff fell back through the open bedroom door and into the hall with Diane on top of him.
 
She pummeled him repeatedly with both fists but his strength was far greater.
 
He rolled her onto her back, gaining the dominant position.
 
He raised the stiletto and prepared to bury it in her chest when David picked up the ceramic lamp from his mother's nightstand and shattered it on the back of Tuff's head.
 

The big man stiffened and collapsed on top of Diane.
 
She shrieked and wiggled out from under him.
 

“Oh my God, David!” she sobbed as the boy ran to her.
 
They hugged each other and then moved back, realizing how close they were to the killer.
 

“Is he dead?” David asked.
 

“I hope so,” she said.
 
“Are you all right?”

“I hit my head but I'm okay.
 
What about you?”

“I think I'm okay.”
 
She got to her feet and took a quick look at herself.
 
There was a nasty bleeding cut on one arm but otherwise she was just a little bruised.
 

“Did you call the police?” she asked.

“The line's dead.”

“Then let's get out of here.”
 
She took his hand and they went to the living room.
 
“There's something I need to get first,” she said.
 
Diane stopped long enough to open the bottom of her china cabinet, where she usually stored linens and tablecloths.
 
Lately, though, it had been the hiding place for the suitcase full of the cash she had received for the diamonds.
 

David stood and watched her pull out the heavy case.
 
“What's that?” he asked.
 

“Our future,” she said.
 

She stood with the suitcase in hand, ready to carry it to the kitchen and out into the garage—but Emo Tuff appeared from the hallway and grabbed David from behind.
 

David yelled and struggled but Tuff's arm was like a vise.
 
The killer put the stiletto to the boy's neck and looked at Diane with the mad, bloodshot eye.
 
Tuff grunted something unintelligible.
 

“Don't hurt him, please!” Diane pleaded.
 
“What do you want?”

Tuff gestured for her to drop the suitcase and she did so without hesitation.
 
The killer then motioned for her to back away.
 
She retreated a few feet and the man came forward, the boy still in his grip.
 
Tuff stood by the suitcase, now faced with the dilemma of choosing which hand he should use to pick up the case—the one holding David or the one clutching the stiletto.
 

Diane continued to back up until she was against the kitchen counter.
 
She felt her purse, turned slightly to pick it up, and clutched it in front of her body as if it might protect her.
 
“Let him go.
 
Please?
 
Take me instead.”

Tuff snarled and said something but the sound that came out of his mouth was more like a grotesque gurgle.
 

Diane snapped opened the purse with one hand as she spoke.
 
“He's just a boy.
 
It's me you really want.
 
Let him go.”

Tuff held his captive tightly but Diane could see the doubt in the man's bloodshot eye.
 
He stared at her for a tense half-minute, grunted, and finally released David.
 

As her son bolted toward the kitchen, Diane drew the Colt .45 from her purse, pointed it at Tuff, and squeezed the trigger.
 
The earsplitting report echoed in the small living room as the bullet propelled Tuff backward.
 
He fell into the television, twisted, and plummeted to the floor, face down.
 
Diane and David didn't move.
 
They were too traumatized to act, fearful that the killer would just get up and chase them again if they ran.
 

When the pool of blood began to spread on the carpet beneath the man's torso, Diane lowered the gun.
 

“Is it over?” David asked.

Diane fell to her knees and dropped the gun as David went to her.
 
They hugged again and she answered, “Yes, David.
 
This time it's over.”

I'
m writing this in the car.
 
We just crossed the state line from Illinois into Indiana.
 

Mom made the news again.
 
They still call her the “Porn Star Mom” even though it's been established that her sister Dana was the porn star.
 
I guess she'll have to live with that name the rest of her life.
 
Anyway, after that night at the apartment all the newspapers called her a hero.
 
“Porn Star Mom Saves Son” and “Porn Star Mom a Hero” were just a couple of the headlines.
 
She was on TV and everything.
 

That sure was an incredible night.
 
After we were positive that Emo was dead, Mom had to call the police but our phone was dead.
 
When she tried the cell phone in her purse, she found it was dead, too.
 
We went to a nearby convenience store to use a pay phone.
 
She called the police and she told a convincing story of how she struggled with Emo to get
his
gun and then shot him with it.
 
That way she won't get in trouble for having a gun without a license.
 
The police believed her.
 

We both had to go to the police station after Mom's arm was doctored and make statements about what happened.
 
They questioned us separately but our stories were exactly alike.
 
Everything turned out okay and the next day the case on Dad's murder was closed.
 

Mom decided that we'd move to New York.
 
That guy Nick is going to help us find a place to live.
 
He's already got a doctor for Mom (she says he's a “shrink”) that's going to help her with all the junk she's been through lately.
 
I'll probably go see him, too.
 
I've been having nightmares ever since I was kidnapped and Mom says the doctor will be able to help me with that.