Dark Intentions

by J. A. Owenby

  Sucking in a quick breath, I kicked full force, and my foot connected with his groin. A loud crack split the night, then number one released me and sank to the ground. His eyes widened as he covered his crotch with both hands, and his mouth gaped open like a fish out of water.

  I scanned the area for additional attackers, but the only man facing me was Layne Garrison. A groan filled my ears, and I tore my gaze away from Layne. Terror coursed through me and split me wide open as I hurried to Benji, followed closely by Layne.

  “I’ll call 9-1-1. Don’t touch him,” he ordered.

  I couldn’t miss the soft lilt of Layne’s southern accent. God knew I’d worked to lose mine, but it had taken some work.

  “Benji.” I took his hand in mine, ignoring Layne’s orders. “Benji.” A messy lump of emotion clogged my throat. He was barely conscious. “Hang on. The ambulance is on the way.”

  “Tensley,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Okay?”

  I nodded. “I’m fine.”

  Layne continued the conversation with the operator and provided our location. I silently thanked the heavens someone had shown up to help. Sirens split through the otherwise quiet night. I peered over my shoulder to ensure the three men that had attacked us were still on the ground.

  “Are the police coming?” I asked, my gaze connecting with Layne’s smoky-blue eyes.

  “Yeah, along with the ambulance.” He quickly tugged off his jacket and tossed it around my shoulders.

  I glared at him. Granted he’d just saved us, but I didn’t want or need anything else from him.

  “Your shirt.” He pointed to my open blouse, and it was only then that I noticed my lilac push-up bra and cleavage were on full display.

  My cheeks flamed red as I let go of Benji’s hand, slid my arms into the sleeves of the jacket, and zipped it. When my attention landed on Layne again, he’d turned away to allow me a moment to cover myself. That wasn’t the Layne I knew, but it didn’t matter. Benji was my number one priority.

  A low moan escaped Benji again, and I sat next to him, willing my tears away. He was a mess. Blood had pooled on the ground near his head, and I whispered a prayer that the ambulance would hurry.

  “Victoria.”

  My head snapped up. “That’s not my name.”

  Layne’s brows knitted in confusion, but the police and paramedics arrived at that moment, halting any conversation between us.

  I stood on the sidelines, helplessly watching the horrifying situation unfold. The next several minutes were a flurry as the EMTs loaded Benji onto a stretcher and into the back of the ambulance. Although I realized I’d been banged up during the fight, I declined medical care. The last thing I wanted were more strangers’ hands touching me.

  Layne was on the other side of the alley, speaking with the police. His body was rigid, and he folded his arms across his chest then dropped them to his sides again. He looked nervous.

  After the police finished with him, they approached me. I told them everything I could recall, but I was eager to get to the hospital with Benji. I had to call his parents and Avery as well. A nagging thought continued to pull at the edge of my mind, and I realized I needed to tell the cops.

  “I’m pretty sure this was a hate crime,” I said to Officer Palmer.

  He folded his arms over his belly and arched a brow. “What makes you think so?”

  “Because he said that the faggot and I shouldn’t be out in public. They beat Benji within an inch of his life. Two guys were on him. I only had one to deal with.”

  “We’ll look into it further. Thanks to that young man”—the officer pointed to Layne—“your friend might have a chance to make it.”

  I nodded. Although I hated Layne, he’d shown up at the right time. There was no way I could dispute it. Plus, he could have walked away and left Benji and me for dead. But he hadn’t. My heart suggested he’d changed, but my mind refused to acknowledge the possibility.

  “If you think of anything else, give me a call.” Officer Palmer handed me a business card and said goodnight.

  Layne shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and slowly walked toward me. A conflicted look painted his expression, and an abundance of different emotions flickered in his eyes. I understood. It was the first time in three years we were face-to-face again.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. His voice was low as his eyes traveled up and down my body.

  “Yeah.” I rubbed my arms, not wanting to say the next part. I swallowed hard and glanced toward the police, who were in the process of leaving the scene. “Thank you.” I pointed at his dark-blue shirt. “It’s torn.” There, I’d done something polite even though it went against every fiber of my being. “I have to get to the hospital.”

  “Wait, let me take you.” Layne’s expression softened, and I thought I saw a glimmer of compassion.

  “Ha!” I barked before I realized it. “Listen, Layne, nothing has changed. I don’t know why you’re here, nor do I give two fucks, but let’s get something straight. I hate you. I hate what you did to me.” My eyes narrowed while my angry gaze raked over him. “Leave me alone.” With that, I whirled on my heel, leaving him standing by himself, and headed toward Benji’s car. Then it dawned on me that I didn’t have keys to Benji’s Lexus. I would have to call an Uber, which would take at least twenty minutes to show up. I would be left alone in the dark again. My body trembled at the thought.

  “Victoria, or whatever your name is, please let me take you to the hospital,” Layne said from behind me.

  My shoulders stiffened as I weighed my options. The quickest way to Benji was to go with the gorgeous asshole behind me who had made my life a living hell. My heart hammered against my chest as I turned around to face him. Through all the commotion of the night, it was the first time I’d really looked at him. His thick brown hair, smoky-blue eyes, broad shoulders, and lean, muscular frame would make any normal girl want to devour him. But not me. Not ever.

  “Tensley,” I huffed, folding my arms over my chest defiantly. “I don’t have keys to Benji’s car, so I can’t drive. I need a ride, but I can call an Uber.”

  “Tensley?” A frown furrowed his brow. “Why? What was wrong with Victoria?”

  I held my hand up, halting any additional questions.

  “Please let me take you. Otherwise you’ll be waiting even longer … in the dark and by yourself. I would worry about your safety at this point,” Layne said gently.

  He’d obviously thought it through like I had.

  “I need to call Benji’s parents,” I conceded, pulling my phone out of my back pocket. “Dammit!” My screen was cracked, and my phone showed no life at all.

  “You can use mine on the way to the hospital.” Layne nodded toward a newer Camry parked up the street. “Let’s go. Maybe we can get there before he goes into surgery.” He hurried to the car.

  “What?” I two-stepped to catch up with him. “You think he needs an operation?”

  “Most likely.” He clicked a button on the key fob he’d produced from his pocket, and the red glow of the taillights broke through the darkness. “I’m not certain, but he didn’t look good, Vic—Tensley.”

  There was no denying that Benji had been brutally beaten. Layne opened the passenger door for me, and I settled into the black leather seat as he hurried to the driver’s side.

  He started the car. “Are you cold?”

  I hadn’t noticed before he’d asked, but I was. “A little.” Once I gathered my wits, I turned to Layne. “What in the hell were you doing tonight anyway? Like, why were you there? Are you following me?” With all the commotion, the thought had just dawned on me, and I wanted an answer.

  “I was having dinner with my uncle next door. I was almost to my car when I heard you scream. I ran over as fast as I could.”

  “Oh.” I probably should have said more, but I’d just accused him of stalking me. “Why are you here in Spokane?”

  “I live with my uncle, and I’m attending college.
” He turned the heat on high. “It won’t take long to warm up. Here’s my phone.” He handed me the newest iPhone, then pulled onto the street.

  I dialed Benji’s parents’ number without hesitation. His mom, Marilyn, picked up on the third ring.

  “Hello?” I didn’t miss the apprehension in her voice. It was after ten on a Saturday evening, a little late for phone calls.

  “Hi, Marilyn. It’s Tensley.”

  “Tensley? Honey, are you okay? What’s going on?”

  My gaze traveled to my boots, and a feeling of dread spread through me. What if Benji wasn’t going to be okay?

  “It’s Benji. He’s been hurt. He and I were attacked when we left the comedy club. I’m on my way to Sacred Heart now with a … friend, but they took Benji by ambulance.”

  A cry filled the phone line, then I heard rustling.

  “Hello, Tensley?” Michael, Benji’s father, asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “He’s still alive? He’s going to be okay?” His words were thick with concern, and fear weaved through me. I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure what to tell him.

  “Put it on speaker,” Layne urged as he turned onto Division. “I can help.”

  “Sir?” I asked. “Layne is driving me to Benji now. Actually, he … he saved our lives. He might be able to answer some of your questions better than I can. I’m still shaken.”

  Pushing the mute icon, I turned toward Layne. “You listen to me, Layne Garrison. These are good people, wonderful human beings, and the only family I have. Don’t fuck with them, or you’ll regret it.”

  “Promise,” he said.

  I unmuted the phone, put it on speaker, and Layne began to talk.

  “Sir, I’m Layne. I’m no doctor, but I can tell you that your son was severely beaten. His nose appeared broken, his left eye was swollen shut, and he had a large gash on his forehead. When I reached him, one of the men was kicking him in the ribs. I suspect there’s some damage there, and they will want to make sure he doesn’t have internal bleeding. I think that’s the biggest concern, but I’m not completely certain.”

  “Dear God.” Michael muffled the phone and muttered something unintelligible to Marilyn. “We’re on our way.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, struggling to breathe above the panic running riot inside me.

  “We’ll understand more when we get there. Benji is tough, and his injuries might not be serious,” Michael assured me, but it did nothing to calm my nerves.

  I hung up the phone and handed it to Layne.

  “I have questions,” he said, taking it from me and setting it in his seat between his legs.

  “No.” I turned to stare out the window. I didn’t care if he had saved Benji and me or not—he didn’t deserve any answers. Facing him again, I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “What? What are you doing here?” I snapped. “Does the universe hate me so much that it sent you to torment me again?”

  A heavy silence hung in the air. “It’s a long story.” He spun a silver ring on his middle finger as he took a deep breath and focused his attention on the road.

  Maybe it was a long story, but my stomach stirred with something I hadn’t experienced toward him before: compassion. Layne sounded … broken. Defeated. With a little work, I finally convinced myself that my moment of sympathy toward him was due to the highly emotional evening I was having. Nothing more, nothing less. And I needed answers. I wanted to know why he was there and why he’d treated me like crap in high school.

  Most importantly, I wanted to know why I should trust him. The only reason my brain could grasp was that Layne owed Benji and me nothing, yet he’d stepped in to defend us, to save us. That said something. I just wasn’t sure what yet.

  “We’re almost there,” he said as he guided the car up a steep hill to the emergency entrance.

  Layne parked, and I hopped out and bolted toward the sliding glass doors before he turned the engine off.

  Hurrying to the front desk, I glanced around for Benji’s parents, but I didn’t see them yet. “Benji Parker. He was just brought here by ambulance.”

  “Hi, hon. Are you a relative?” a middle-aged nurse asked.

  “I’m his sister. I was with him when we were attacked.” Sometimes I was amazed at how quickly I could lie, but I knew they wouldn’t share anything if we weren’t related. My fingers drummed nervously on the desk while I waited for her to provide an update.

  “He arrived about twenty minutes ago and was rushed into surgery.” Her large doe eyes filled with compassion. “I’ll see what I can do about an update for you soon, but it might be a while.”

  My shoulders sagged. That wasn’t good, but I had no idea how bad it really was. Until we had additional information, my mind was left to its own devices, which meant it would taunt me with the worst possible scenarios. I turned around slowly, made my way to the waiting room, and sank into a blue chair as far away from the other three people in the room as possible. I wouldn’t call it a love seat necessarily, but two people could sit in it together. Surprisingly, the ER wasn’t too busy, which was fine with me. The fewer shrieking little kids or crying adults I had to deal with, the better.

  Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with exhaustion, and my entire body ached from defending myself. I closed my eyes briefly as the events of the evening rushed over me like a tidal wave. The seat next to me gave way, and I peered through one eye to see who had sat down.

  “You’re still here?” I asked, aggravated. “Why?”

  Layne combed his fingers through his hair and pinned me with an intense gaze. “What did they say about Benji?”

  “He’s in surgery. I don’t know anything else.” I leaned back in my chair and willed Layne Garrison to disappear.

  “I’m sorry,” Layne said in a low tone. His jaw muscles clenched for a moment before he spoke again. “I’m sorry for how I treated you in high school, I’m sorry I didn’t reach you sooner tonight, and I’m sorry about Benji. I wish I could have done more.” His eyes met mine then drifted to the floor.

  Who is this guy in front of me? There was no way of knowing if he’d changed for real or if he was blowing sunshine up my ass. Can someone like him even change? I shook my head and clung to my anger, refusing to consider the possibility that he was different. He didn’t deserve a second chance.

  “Tensley?” Marilyn hurried toward me, her heels clicking on the tile floor. Her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. Typically, there wasn’t a hair out of place on her head and she was impeccably dressed, but not tonight. She’d haphazardly put herself together after hearing the news about her son. She’d pulled her shoulder-length dark hair into a messy bun, and her face was free of makeup. But what killed me the most was the pain etched into her beautiful features. I silently cursed the gods for allowing the Parker family to be hurt like this.

  I stood and allowed Marilyn to pull me in for a big hug. Benji's parents had treated me as their own, and I couldn’t ask for better.

  Shit, in all the excitement, I’d forgotten to call Avery. I would have to borrow Marilyn’s phone. The less conversation I had with Layne, the better.

  “Michael,” I said, pushing up on my tiptoes and embracing Benji’s dad. Dark circles shadowed his weary eyes, but he appeared strong. I knew him well enough to know that he would want to be Marilyn’s rock and not allow his emotions to show, at least not yet. No loving father could keep his feelings tucked away for long.

  He hugged me, then held me at arm’s length and assessed me. It hadn’t occurred to me that I probably looked like a complete mess.

  “Are you hurt?” Marilyn asked, concern in her expression as she gave me the once-over.

  “I’m shaken and bruised, but that’s all. Some Advil would be awesome, though.” I didn’t feel the need to see a doctor, but I’d taken some hits on the asphalt, and it wouldn’t surprise me to find bruises on my back and legs. I self-consciously rubbed my cut-and-scratched hands.

  Layne stood next to me and extended his hand to B
enji’s parents. “I’m Layne. I showed up on the scene and did what I could to help tonight. Hopefully it was enough.”

  Marilyn flung her arms around his neck and broke down sobbing on his shoulder. Layne did his best to comfort her, but I didn’t miss the awkwardness of the situation. Marilyn finally backed away and rummaged around in her purse for a tissue.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her eyes swollen. “The nurse at the desk said Benji was in surgery.”

  Layne and I sat back down while Michael and Marilyn settled into seats across from us.

  “How do you know Benji?” Michael asked Layne.

  “I don’t, actually.” Layne rubbed his chin, and I wondered if he was trying to select his next words carefully. “I’m friends with Tensley.”

  I mentally kicked him in the shin. Hard. Friends? Not ever. But I knew my manners, and there was no way I was going to call him out while we waited to see how bad off Benji was. At least he got my name right.

  “Marilyn, can I borrow your phone?” I asked. “I need to call Avery. Mine was broken during the … the attack.”

  Once again, Marilyn performed a deep dive into her purse. “Of course, hon.” She gave me her iPhone and held her tissue tightly in her trembling hand.

  “I’ll be right back.” Without even a glance at Layne, I hurried toward the exit and into the fresh night air. I rounded the corner of the hospital building and planted the palm of my hand against the cold brick. My breaths came in short bursts as the events of the evening plagued me. I’d been seconds away from being raped in an alley while Benji … A small cry slipped from between my lips, and agony coursed through me. What if his injuries are so severe that we lose him? I sucked in a quick breath, attempting to keep myself together. I spotted a few cement benches and flower beds with remnants of summertime roses. The walkway circled around an area cordoned off by a row of well-trimmed bushes.

  “Avery,” I whispered, focusing on the phone and reminding myself of why I was outside. My hands shook as I tapped out her number. The call went immediately to voice mail. Dammit. I hated to leave a message about Benji, but I had no other choice.

  “Are you all right?” Layne asked, rounding the corner. “I mean, really okay? I understand you wouldn’t want to worry Benji’s parents, but you were attacked tonight.”