THE GHOST IN YOU - IT [2]

chapter ten

Victor drags a bloody, sobbing Jaime out of their childhood home. Bowers laid unconscious on the floor, but due to the hefty dent in his cranium thanks to the brick Victor smashed against his head, it's safe to say he won't be getting up anytime soon. Or at all. Jaime would love to tie him up and toss him into the ocean, but right now she can't even form a coherent thought, let alone do anything about him. So Victor takes her outside, his arm around her waist and soothing words fighting past his lips.

In Victor's rental car, Jaime sits in the passenger seat, sobbing. Victor retrieves a packet of Kleenex tissues from the glove compartment and gently hands them to her. She presses the lotion-laced tissues to her eyes and nose, sopping up all the moisture. When she finally returns to reality, Victor's incessant speech finally digests.

Instead of asking why she's here, what she's doing, how could she be so dumb, he's just rubbing circles on her shoulder and asking if she's okay. She doesn't recoil when he puts pressure on the cut in her neck.

"W-why aren't y-you mad?" She hiccups out, her voice getting caught on the lump in her throat.

Victor laughs lightly at this, the rumble of his body causing him to loosen his press on her neck. "Believe me, I was. I was really pissed. I was going to come to Derry and kick your ass." He clears his throat. "Until I got here. And the memories... you told me, back in '89, that something super fucked was happening here. I believed you then... and I believe you now. I know you came for a reason."

Jaime sniffs, holding a tissue to her running nose. "Did Parker t-tell you?"

He scowls at the mention of his sister's sleazy husband. "Him and Priya. But I knew it was serious if he was worried enough to contact me." He draws his hand away from her neck, noting the fact that her cut had ceased its bleeding. He crumples up the bloody tissue and stuffs it in the armrest compartment, choosing to deal with it later.

"I'm sorry," Jaime croaks as she squeezes the shirt still in her hand, "I'm s-so sorry."

Victor presses his lips into a thin line and nods. "I know, kiddo. I just..."

Their eyes, the same shade of hazel, lock. Silently, Jaime notes the hurt in her brother's eyes, the previous fear that dissipated into anger. He dropped everything to come get her, to come ensure she was safe. A phone call to him would not be enough. Victor had to be in his sister's presence to know she wasn't in immediate danger. It had been that way for twenty-seven years.

"I should've told you." She states, though they had already just had an entire conversation with nothing but their eyes.

He forces a small smile and ruffles her disheveled hair. "I wish you had, but I arrived at a good time, eh? Not the first time I kicked Bowers' ass, hopefully it'll be the last."

"Please," she snorts through her tears, "you'd live for kicking his ass daily."

"If that was my job, maybe I wouldn't complain about my occupation so much." Victor smiles weakly. "So, anyway, is that why you're here? Because It came back?"

Jaime nods. "I can't explain it all, Vic, it's such a long story. Mike told all of us to meet him at the library tonight. Will you come?"

"I'm not leaving Derry until you do." He proclaims, his gaze hardening. "Then can I have a little bit more info than the brief explanation I got that summer? That was the first and last time you said more than five words about It."

She nods vigorously. "Yes, Vic, I promise we'll explain everything tonight. In just a few hours. I've gotta get back to the townhouse, though, if any of the others are there I have to warn them about Bowers."