Cat
I knew this moment would come. I knew I’d see Adam again, that I wasn’t rid of him. I had known for a long time. And I’ve tried to prepare myself emotionally so that when this moment came, I wouldn’t do what I had always done whenever Adam became violent or threatened me: freeze. Soldiers train for these kinds of scenarios, as do police officers and other first responders. They practice for situations that are guaranteed to activate their fight-or-flight response—or in my case, the freeze response—so they’ll be able to think rationally and do what they’re required to do.
And I succeeded. At first, that is.
Maybe I shouldn’t have walked to school to meet up with Tori this afternoon. Maybe I should’ve waited for Ronan to pick me up at home after he and Shane had a chance to get Tori, but I can’t stay cooped up in the house forever. I won’t always have a bodyguard for protection. And it was a short walk, after all.
I met up with Tori and Vada right as practice let out, and the three of us waited for Shane and Ronan as the field emptied and my teammates—well, former teammates—headed home. In the end, it was just Vada, Tori, and me with a couple of stragglers several feet back as we walked across the lawn to the sidewalk to wait for the guys.
And then I noticed him. Adam. His hulking figure strode toward me, Vada, and Tori. How he even knew where I was is beyond me. He obviously stalked me, had watched me for who knows how long, and the thought made my skin crawl. But I didn’t have time to overthink it. I forced myself to remain as calm as possible. It was still jarring to see him approach, his resolute steps and aggressive posture fear-inducing.
“What’s…” Tori asked, then gasped at the sight of Adam a mere thirty feet from us, his large steps rapidly reducing the distance. Even from here I could see the sinister smile on his lips.
“That asshole,” Vada huffed next to me. She started toward Adam.
He reached her a fraction of a second later and shoved Vada aside like she was nothing more than a pesky fly. Her tiny frame was no match for the hundred additional pounds Adam has on her, and she was flung to the side, tumbling to the ground with a pained grunt. Tori was by her side in a second.
That’s when something miraculous happens. Adam’s violent attack on one of my best friends snaps me out of my usual paralysis, and I’m more clear-headed than I’ve ever been with Adam.
The damn grin on Adam’s unshaven face is sickening. “Well, hello there sexy—”
Instead of freezing or retreating, I do what I did to Drew only weeks ago. I jerk my knee up fiercely, determined to bring him to his knees. I will not be a victim any longer.
But to my dismay, I miss his most vulnerable parts and collide with his thigh.
Adam looks at me with surprise. He didn’t expect me to play the role of the aggressor. He probably expected me to freeze or fawn like I had in the past.
I take the chance, making use of his confusion to swing my fist into Adam’s face, connecting it with his jaw. It doesn’t make that satisfactory crunch as when Ronan punched Adam last year, but it’s a solid hit. “I’m done with this shit, Adam. Leave me the fuck alone!”
I pull my knee back, then jerk it upward, aiming for his groin again. I’m determined not to miss this time.
But Adam shifts and his hand flies down, acting as a buffer between my knee and his body. The jab is hard enough to force Adam’s hand back and connect with his prized manhood, but not hard enough to incapacitate him. And though Adam briefly balks, he straightens up quickly, his wide body casting a cold shadow as anger darkens his face. It’s immediately obvious that the only thing I managed to do was piss him off, making this whole thing a thousand times worse.
Adam expels a loud huff through his flared nostrils, then yanks his brown leather belt from its loops with his right hand while the left closes around my throat. “You’re awfully ballsy for someone who’s about to be dominated, you little cunt. I hope your friends don’t mind watching, because this time your little boy toy isn’t here to stop me.”
I grab at Adam’s hand, trying to speak, to beg him to let me go, to swallow, but I can’t even manage a breath as Adam squeezes my windpipe shut.
I hear a deep, ferocious growl from behind Adam before he’s hauled backward, his grip torn from my throat.
“Wrong, asshole,” Ronan roars.
I only catch a glimpse of Ronan’s face, but the expression carved into his features is one I’ve seen before. There’s a cold darkness in his usually bright-green eyes, a rigidness in the masculine angles of his jaw, and a terrifying snarl on his lips reminiscent of a lion ready to tear the flesh off his prey. It’s as though unadulterated hatred for Adam has taken up residence inside Ronan’s body, wholly consuming him just like it did last August.
Adam’s eyes widen with shock, but before he can say or do anything, he crashes to the ground, landing so hard on his back a rush of air escapes him. Already Ronan is on top of him, fists raining down on Adam’s face.
Adam doesn’t surrender without a fight. It takes mere seconds before the two are a blurry tangle of sturdy bodies, of knees and fists, the sounds of skin tearing and bones crushing in a brutal symphony of violence. All I can think about is Ronan, my worry for his safety, the realization that he’s putting himself in harm’s way yet again to protect me, even after everything he’s been through.
I can’t stand by helplessly, can’t just remain on the sidelines. I move in, ignoring the shouts from Vada and Tori some feet to my right. I vaguely register Shane running in our direction, his phone to his ear as my feet carry me forward. I don’t even know what exactly I think I’m going to do; I’m no match for either Adam or Ronan, who are at each other’s throats.
“Please, stop!” I yell, trying to insert myself, to separate them somehow, to protect Ronan, but I’m silenced when knuckles collide forcefully with my nose. Blinding pain makes my eyes water, and I stumble.
Strong arms catch me.
“Baby, keep away from this,” I hear Shane say to Tori. “Vada, take my damn phone! It’s the cops.”
I resist Tori’s hold on me, wishing to break free and get to Ronan. He’s my only thought. “, stop, you’re bleeding,” Tori says, her voice full of panic.
I wipe my hand over my nose, suddenly aware of the painful throbbing and the taste of iron in my mouth. My nose is dripping blood, the crimson substance running over my lips and down my chin, splattering onto my sweater and jeans. I sink to my knees.
Vada rushes to my side. “The police are almost here,” she says, sounding winded as she dials a number on Shane’s phone with shaky fingers.
I can’t pay attention, can’t focus on who she’s talking to. My hands are trembling, my breathing is rapid and shallow, and I’m dizzy with pain and fear and adrenaline. My eyes move to find Ronan only feet away from me, and I feel a semblance of relief at seeing him astride Adam’s torso. He’s viciously punching Adam’s face.
Shane attempts to pull Ronan off Adam, who has his hands up, head turned to the side to shield himself from Ronan’s wrath. “Stop, Ran!”
But Ronan doesn’t let up. He relentlessly beats Adam, crashing his fists into Adam’s head and face to the squelching sound of torn knuckles against raw skin and broken bone.
“That’s enough, man. He’s had enough.” Shane winds his arms over Ronan’s shoulders and around his chest, then pulls Ronan back and off Adam.
Adam hastily scrambles to his feet. His face is marred—bloody, swollen, and bruised—even more so than the last time he and Ronan went at it.
“Fuck, Shay, let me go,” Ronan roars, straining against Shane’s hold on him. Shane is taller than Ronan by a couple of inches. He’s as muscular and conditioned as Ronan—probably even more so now, given Ronan’s long recovery and inability to stay as physically active as Shane—but it takes every ounce of Shane’s effort to keep his grip on Ronan, whose body is tightly wound, his face an angry scowl. Undiluted adrenaline must be pumping through Ronan’s veins, granting him a potent strength even Shane has a tough time reckoning with.
Sirens wail in the distance, coming nearer.
Shane leans back, putting all his weight into keeping Ronan away from Adam. Shane growls at Adam, “Don’t fucking move. They’re coming for you, asshole.”
Adam stumbles backward, spitting blood.
“Let go!” Ronan bellows again, still fighting Shane’s tight hold, his eyes on Adam’s. “I’m going to rip his fucking face off.”
“Ran, stop. You don’t want this!” Shane shouts. “This isn’t you, man.”
I see red and blue lights wind their way down the road. Relief floods me, a tiny whimper breaking from my chest just as Adam whirls around and away from the scene. The sound is enough for Ronan to stop fighting Shane and for his eyes to find me.
His face immediately contorts with anguish. He reaches me in two strides and pulls me against him. “Are you okay, baby? Please tell me you’re okay,” he says with shaky breaths.
I nod and study his face as he studies mine.
“You’re bleeding,” he says, his eyes flitting over my face and body in search of more injuries.
But I’m okay. I don’t even think my nose is broken. What’s more shocking is that, aside from a bloody lip and slight bruise under his left eye, Ronan looks nearly unmarked by the battle he just fought, whereas Adam’s face looked as though he had to tap out of a UFC fight. The knuckles on Ronan’s left hand, however, are swollen and bruised, the skin torn and bleeding.
My eyes flutter shut when Ronan ever so gently wipes my bloody nose with the sleeve of his hoodie. “Does it hurt?” he asks, his voice raw.
“No, I’m fine.” I open my eyes to stare into his, noting the deep worry in them. “Thank you.”
I don’t get a chance to say more with police officers approaching us. I look past Ronan, searching for Adam, and only note a car speeding away. It’s followed by one of the police cruisers giving chase, sirens blaring and lights flashing. He obviously ran, just like he did after he put his last girlfriend in the hospital. I can only hope they catch him this time, that they’ll finally put an end to this whole ordeal.
The five of us spend the next hour answering questions and giving statements. Ronan, Vada, and I each are looked over by a paramedic but are quickly released after we’re determined to have only superficial injuries. Vada came away with a scraped knee, I was given an ice pack for my nose, and Ronan’s left hand is bandaged up. But other than that, we’re all fine. Shaken and exhausted, but fine.
Vada’s dad arrives. After he ensures his daughter’s well-being, he speaks with the police officers, and finally Frank and my mom when they arrive looking bewildered. My mom is crying so hard her mascara has stained her cheeks black. She looks like something out of a horror movie.
“Jesus Christ, Ran, three days. You’ve been home for three days. Fuck, you really know how to scare the absolute living shit out of me,” Frank groans, his tone strained with worry. He carefully moves his hand to Ronan’s jaw, turning Ronan’s face this way and that to get a good look at his son and any injuries. “What the hell happened?”
Ronan exhales noisily through his nose, shaking his head. “I saw this asshole with , his fucking hand on her throat, and I just…” He trails off, pressing his lips together. “I fucking lost it.”
“Frank, from what I’m gathering Adam Mallard was coming for ,” Vada’s dad says. “Seems he probably followed here, just waiting for the right time to make his move. We’re lucky Ronan and Shane got here when they did. It’s a clear case of self-defense.”
“Uh, duh,” Vada huffs with an exaggerate eye roll. “That dipshit came right at us, Dad. He shoved me aside to get to . He choked her, Dad!”
Tori nods against Shane’s chest while he holds her against him tightly. “He pulled out his belt. I thought he was going to…”
My mom whimpers, then bumps Frank out of her way and throws her arms around Ronan’s neck with a loud wail. “I can’t thank you enough for keeping her safe,” she cries against him.
“How did you get your bloody nose, ? Did Adam hit you?” Mr. Walker asks me.
I shrug. “I don’t know. I… I wanted to get between Ran and Adam. I just… I wanted to get Ran away from him and… I don’t know, I just got hit.”
Ronan groans, a tortured look in his eyes. “Was it me? Did I hurt you?” I wish I was able to tell him “no,” that he didn’t hit me, but I had tunnel vision.
“Adam did,” Shane says. “Pretty sure he meant to hit you, but it happened right when tried to get between you two and he caught her instead. You didn’t hurt her, Ran.” I can’t tell whether Shane truly did witness the hit or if he’s merely trying to absolve his best friend of any guilt, but I appreciate his attempt to ease Ronan’s pain.
My mom dabs at her cheeks, trying to erase her tears without smudging her makeup, but it’s too late. “So, now what? What are the police doing about Adam?”
“We’re in pursuit,” a beefy officer with a bald head says gruffly. “He’s not getting away this time.”
Mr. Walker sighs. “Let’s hope you’re right.”