With a jerk of the steering wheel sharp enough to send her tires squealing, Lita turns her Jeep around and heads back in the direction she came. Nevermind that she had almost been at the hospital already. Nevermind she was still covered in dead men's blood. Nevermind that James might still be there when she pulls back up to the parking lot. She needs to go back. It's a compulsion she cannot fight or ignore. Like birds being drawn back home at the first sign of Spring, Lita gives into the impulse.
James is gone by the time she arrives. She wasn't sure why she thought otherwise. She'd walked away, left him behind. She'd dismissed him as cruelly and succinctly as he had her. Why would be stay? Lita is both relieved and yet utterly destroyed by his absence. But it's easier this way.
She gets out of the vehicle, her eyes to the ground. Her helmet is still here but where is the necklace? A tight, gripping fear grabs hold of her chest, squeezing until she can barely breath from it. There is no glint of gold or shine of blue quartz anywhere.
Lita starts out slow, retracing her steps, looking at the tires marks to see where she had been standing when she had left. The longer she's at it, the more frantic she gets. It's not here, it's not anywhere, and if she can't find it, then he's really and truly gone and Lita can't fathom it. She drops to her knees, ignoring the pain from bruises where the patrolman had thrown her. She scrapes her knuckles against the blacktop trying to sift through the drifts of dirt and dust. Her skin splits open at the joint, drawing blood but it doesn't hurt. What hurts is the gnawing, empty, panicky feeling in her chest. Her fingertips reach to find something, anything to hold on and the longer she comes up empty the worst the pain in her chest feels. Her breath comes out in ragged gasps as scrambles through the dirt, until finally, mercifully, her fingertips glance against the delicately wrought necklace.
Lita lets out a shuttering gasp, scrambling in the dirt to clutch the necklace in her grasp. She clenches the broken chain and pendent against her palm and rests the fist protecting them against her heart. She draws her knees up to her chest and buries her head in her arms and weeps. Alone, bloody and broken, Lita sits in the desolate, empty parking lot until the tears subside.
She loves him. With every beat of her ruined heart she loves him and he's gone, leaving nothing but lies and a broken necklace in his wake. After minutes, or perhaps days, Lita lifts herself up off the ground, rubs the dirty heels of her palms against her watery eyes, and places the necklace in her pocket for safe keeping. A few strides bring her even with her helmet and she picks that up, too and tosses it into the passenger seat. Lita slides into the driver's side and puts the Jeep into drive and begins her journey back home. There's nothing left for here now anymore.