Chapter Ten #5
though I know the violence I've doled out tonight wasn't solely to
get my point across—that it gave me a kind of satisfaction that
makes me a complete hypocrite, it's not even close to what I want
to do. And that—that self-restraint, the difference between what
I've done and what I want to do—is all Rory. Even though she is out
of sight, safe under the watch of my friends, I feel her right
beside me, whispering in my ear and holding me
back.
"I'm going to let you
live, but you are not fucking going to get away with this, that I promise you. And if you ever
so much as step in the same state Rory is in, I swear to fucking
God, I will do the world a fucking favor, and end you. And I'll
enjoy every goddamned second of it, too."
He sucks in the wisps of
air I allow. And I allow him enough to keep him conscious, but not
much more. His eyes bulge with fear and desperation, both
bloodshot, black and blue, and one swelling shut.
I lean in closer,
practically snarling at him in revulsion and contempt. I thought I
knew what hate was, spent so many years sure I hated my father, but
my feelings for him are borderline apathetic compared to what I
feel for this piece of garbage. My father is an asshole, but this
creature… he is the worst fucking kind of evil, and I wish with
every part of me that I could vanquish him for good here and
now.
I nod toward Tucker but
don't take my eyes off of that motherfucking bastard for a moment.
"He's not going to intervene. If that's what you were hoping. Sure,
he's scared that I'll take this too far, but he doesn't think I'd
actually kill you. Not intentionally.
"But he doesn't know what
you and I know. He doesn't know Rory, not really. He doesn't know
just what she's worth risking. But you do. After all, you're here,
ignoring a fucking restraining order, risking your freedom to get
to her." I pause a moment, glaring at him, allowing him to really
understand how dead fucking serious I am, and say my next words
slowly and carefully.
"What do you think
I would risk to keep her
safe?" I raise my eyebrows. "You think I wouldn't risk
my freedom to keep you
from her?" I let that sink in a moment, before tightening my grip
only half as much as I want to. "If you ever so much as think about
coming after her again, I won't hesitate to do what I really want
to do right now…What a large part of me feels like I
should do—"
"Cap..." Tucker is more worried now.
He probably doesn't even recognize me, in total control of my
violence, and I've given him good reason to make him think I'm
about to slip.
Although my words are not
for my best friend, I know he's heard every word. A few months ago
he might not have understood. Hell, a few months ago, neither would
I. But I know Tucker, and I see the way he looks at Carl, and I
doubt there's much he wouldn't do for her, whether he knows it yet
or not.
I smirk down at the
bastard. "He's getting it now. He understands. Even if he's not
ready to admit it to himself. But all you need to understand is
that he won't try and stop me." I tighten my grip even more,
finally closing his airway and letting him panic for a couple of
seconds while he pitifully attempts to try and resist.
You fucking bastard, this
is only a fraction of what you did to Rory.
Finally I let go, and he
gasps frantically, groaning in pain.
"Cap," Tucker's says again
with renewed urgency. But I hear it too—the faint sound of distant
sirens, slowly growing louder.
"Cap!" I hear Dave shout
from the alley, and I stand up, leaving a somewhat conscious,
bloody heap on the hard ground.
I bend down, lightly
smacking at his cheeks again, telling him to wake up, that his ride
is here. He'll be lucky if he can walk, but he came at Rory first,
and then me—it was self defense, which I whisper to Tucker in
detail while we stand guard waiting for the cops to come and arrest
Rory's attacker. Once Tucker's got the story down, he takes two
well aimed swings at me—one at my jaw, the second to my left cheek.
I thank him.
The piece of shit on the
ground is barely aware of himself, let alone what Tuck and I are up
to. He groans and whimpers like a fucking bitch.
He can dish it out, to a
fucking innocent girl, but he can't fucking take it.
I lean over and spit in
his face.
It's only a couple of
minutes later that the police are there, helping Rory's attacker
stand up, and he staggers to the ambulance, held upright by two
officers. Really, he should be on a stretcher, but he reeks of
bourbon, and I think they probably think that's what's accounting
for his half conscious state. Of course it helps that I hinted as
much to the female detective.
By the time we emerge from
the alley and that motherfucking bastard is read his rights and
taken away in an ambulance, Rory is already talking to another
detective and being examined by forensics and treated for her
scratches and bruises. I look on, in no small amount of anguish, as
an EMT uses tweezers to remove small bits of debris from the scrape
on her left cheek. She barely winces at all, and when she almost
does, she bites her lip and swallows her pain right back
down.
She's the toughest girl
I've ever known. She's only even being treated in an ambulance
because she insisted she did not need a hospital.
Adamantly.
Tuck gives his statement
to the male detective first while I half listen to him, mostly
watching Rory.
This whole night was my
fault. I am such a fucking idiot. I saw him with his hands all over
her. I saw her, standing there, but I convinced myself that she was
letting it happen because she wanted it. Because she wanted someone
other than me. Because I pushed her about her friend Cam and she
was rethinking the something
more. That her deer-in-headlights
expression was for getting caught by me, not the utter terror I now
know it was.
I don't understand myself.
I fucking know Rory, and mad at me or not, I know there was no way she was
just going to be in some random guy's arms, let some stranger drag
his mouth all over her neck. I physically cringe at the memory. My
stomach rolls and my heart is pressed with a painful pressure—a
weight—and it's a sensation I've never felt before.
I'm overcome with a tidal
wave of guilt for my role in her suffering tonight, her fear… If
there was anything I could do to undo it, to take it back, I would.
I need to apologize to her. For being a dick earlier about her
friend, for not helping her right away with that motherfucking
bastard. For my blame in her getting hurt… violated.
Fuck, when I think of what
could have happened if I hadn't heard her scream my name. If I
hadn't found them…
I try to suck in air, but
my lungs won't work. I'm almost sure my heart has stopped
beating.
I stare at Rory in wonder,
overcome with that soft whispering of a truth that first struck me
last night and has been growing louder all day. One I'm pretty
fucking sure quite a few other people have noticed too. It's that
truth that slid between our mouths when she kissed me last night,
that charged between us when we talked this morning. The one that
knocked me on my ass this afternoon. That drove me to check out her
past on social media like a fucking obsessed chick would
do.
The one that rocked me
with an unfamiliar combination of deep sadness and dread at the
thought that I could have fucked things up for good. Fucked up
being something more than friends. The one that allowed me to blind
myself with jealousy when I should have realized what was fucking
happening right in front of my face.
The one that makes me
watch her now, consumed with regret, guilt, and longing, and has me
at a loss for what to do next. She's been through enough, and the
last thing she needs is for me to add to her emotional stress. But
tonight could have been avoided if I hadn't been so damn distracted
by my own jealousy. And, I realize, I just can't do this with her.
Not like this. I've never felt this way about a girl before, and I
can't pretend it's just a casual hookup. I won't pressure her for
something she doesn't want, but if she does want me, then I need to
know it's just us. That I won't be seeing her in any other guy's
arms, even though it seems ridiculous, considering her distrust of
men, and people in general.
And suddenly that truth is
no longer a soft whispering. It's a larger than life, all-consuming
thing, taking a permanent hold of my heart, digging its roots up
around my throat, down through my gut, and every other part of me.
It no longer whispers, instead, it's screaming so loudly I wonder
if others can hear its desperation to be heard.
But I need to fucking
think. I need to figure out what the right thing to do is. What to
say to her, how to say it. I need to clear my head. But I can't
fucking leave here, it's a goddamned crime scene.
I'll need to give my
statement and then go walk for a while, and think things through.
And though I now know the truth with a certainly that overwhelms
me, I don't know if telling Rory I'm fucking in love with her is
the best thing to do right now. Especially tonight.
For now I should just
apologize, for all of it, and pray that she can forgive me. I pray
that she doesn't shut me out, that she lets me take care of her.
I'll tell her that simple, life-changing truth when it's the right
time. After we talk about where we stand. Not tonight. Definitely
not tonight.
****
I laugh at myself. As it turned out, I couldn't keep my own
word. I told her barely an hour later, for all the good it ended up
doing me. I never could have guessed that only a few weeks later,
we wouldn't even be speaking.
Balto stands there proudly
atop his mount, mocking me. He hasn't changed a stitch, but here I
am, utterly different, and hopelessly lost. I wonder if he's seen
my parents together. If the stupid statue knew my parents were
fucking seeing each other before I did. There's a good chance they
would have come here; they liked this spot too.
I walk west through the
park before I look for a spot to have a drink. I need to get Rory
out of my head. My goddamned parents too. I accomplished what I'd
set out to do today, and now that I know my father is going to help
me with Rory, I can breathe a little bit more deeply. But not by
much. Because the small amount of stress that was relieved, was
replenished and then some by all of the new information I'm having
to process right now.
Everyone else seems to be
moving forward in their lives, but I'm just stuck in some past I'm
not even sure was ever real. But it's time I move on. And tonight
is as good a time as any to start. So I tell myself, tonight, I
will start trying to accept things as they are. I'll get drunk, and
hook up with some random girl. Remind myself what life was like
before Rory ever panicked her way into it.