Lucky, why do you have to be so stubborn? Why can't you listen to me? Why do you have to love me so much? Why do you have to die because of me?
I knew it with absolute certainty that night as I lay on my tangled blankets, watching the stars hover quietly in the sky through the small window in my room: he would kill Lucky as surely as he would kill me, Spencer or not.
It's my fault.
I rolled over, wincing at the ache in my ribs from where he had kicked me earlier. I shouldn't have tried to attack him; I should have known it wouldn't work, just like it had never worked before. But the very idea that he would try to play Lucky like he was just some stupid kid...I could feel the rage charging through my blood, making my face hot. And then I remembered my heart sinking slowly like a stone in a lake...when Lucky died it would be my fault. It would be because of me.
"Lucky, I'm sorry," I whispered aloud, the stars turning into a white smear as my eyes filled with tears, then becoming clear again as the tears slid slowly into my hair. "I shouldn't have called you. I knew that and I should have known that he would do something like this. And I know you. You'll do exactly as he says because you think you can save me. You've saved me so many times before, Lucky, more times than you'll ever know. But this time it's different. This time things have gone beyond our control. I don't want to give up. I hate it. I wish that I'd killed him when I had the chance. I can't believe I had the chance and I didn't take it. But after all he's done to me, killing him wouldn't even be enough. I wish I could give him back every bit of pain he's ever given you or me. That's what he deserves more than being killed. Then he'd know. But I can't do that and I can't kill him and now he's just going to kill you and he wouldn't be if I hadn't called you. Why did I call you? Why?
"Lucky, please don't meet him. Please don't come here. Please just try to let me go..." I knew I was being foolish even as I said it. Lucky would sooner chop off his own hand than abandon me if he thought he could help. I closed my eyes as my breath caught. Sorrow and futility settled over me like a thick and smothering cloth. I didn't even try to fight it; I just let it consume me. There was nothing I could do now except hope and pray that Lucky and I would get to see each other one last time before we died.
~~~~
Lucky stood on the docks, looking out at the moon reflecting on the water, casting shadows everywhere. It was a quiet, cool night, and he thought of the times he and Elizabeth had sat on these very docks talking and planning their future. He wished she were here with him now, wished that the last few days had been a terrible nightmare. But the nightmare was all too real. He had been waiting on the docks for nearly an hour, waiting for Elizabeth's tormentor, for Tom, thankful that for at least awhile he would be away from her, hopefully giving her some peace. He paced, praying that this was not a ruse and that Tom would indeed show up and take him to her.
He hoped that no one he knew would wander down to the docks. He could not afford to have anyone know that he was going to see Elizabeth. When the line had gone dead after Elizabeth called him the night before, he had hung up the phone and paced the room, agonizing over what to do. Should he call Detective Taggert? He knew he should tell him about receiving the bracelet, about the phone call and the plan to meet Tom who would take him to Elizabeth.
He had picked up the phone again and begun to dial Luke's number. His father would know what to do; he always knew what to do. He was a Spencer. He had taught Lucky what it meant to be a Spencer, how to get out of any situation, how to be ready for disaster at any given moment. But Lucky was too emotional right now to make any rational decisions. As he frantically dialed the phone he finally decided that he would ask Luke and Sonny to follow, to stay out of sight but to be close by. But then he had thought better of it, knowing that he could not risk Elizabeth's life further. Tom Baker had been adamant. No cops, no back up, no one else. Just Lucky. In frustration, he hung up the phone before he completed the call. He had wandered aimlessly the rest of last night, unable to eat or sleep or think of anything but Elizabeth and the hell she was going through.
He had spent today preparing for his meeting with Tom. He knew Elizabeth would be praying that he would not meet Tom, that he would just let her go, let her accept whatever fate lay ahead of her at the hands of Tom Baker. But of course there was no way he could do that, and he knew that deep in her heart she knew that, too. Their connection, their love, was too strong. He would risk his own life willingly to save hers.
It was getting late, and just as Lucky began to worry that Tom would not show up, he heard the sinister voice from behind him. "Lucky Spencer?" He turned toward the voice and saw Tom Baker step from the shadows.