by A. O. Peart
I smiled. A strong sense of reassurance wrapped around my heart when I thought about Jack and Cora. She was such a cute, wrinkled puppy when Jack got her in twelfth grade. By now, I was sure she looked nothing like that pup I remembered.”
As planned, I waited by the door, pressing my back onto the wall of the building. I kept my head down. My hair fell forward, creating a natural curtain for my face while I scrolled through emails on my cell phone. This way I hoped to look natural, and nobody would pay me any attention. Except, it didn’t quite work that way.
First, I saw a pair of dark-blue Converse shoes stop directly in front of me, their toes pointing straight at me. My heart leapt into my throat, and all the blood rushed from my head. I felt like fainting. No way was this happening!
“Willow, baby,” Seth said in a soft voice. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. We need to talk.”
My head snapped up. I was shaking and unable to speak. I wanted to scream and run away, but I wasn’t able to. I pressed myself harder onto the wall, hoping it would swallow me whole. My heart crashed in my chest, and I instinctively brought my arms to my torso with left hand covering my face.
I dropped my cell phone. It fell onto the sidewalk, and my eyes followed. Seth crouched down and picked it up. The screen cracked, looking now like a spider web.
Still squatting down, he raised his eyes to me and said, “It broke. I’m sorry.”
I snatched the phone from his hand and quickly tucked it into my pocket.
He had dark circles under his eyes and a small cut on his cheek. His clothes were rumpled and his hair was disheveled. Nothing about him seemed familiar. The Seth I knew was always dressed in clean, freshly pressed clothes, with his hair styled, and his head held high. This Seth looked as if he’d gone through a battle which he’d miserably lost. Nevertheless, I wasn’t feeling quite sorry for him. I was actually terrified and furious.
“Willow, I’m sorry,” he repeated, slowly standing up. He held his hands out in a conciliatory gesture. “I never wanted to hurt you. God, you have to believe me. I love you. I will do whatever I can to make it up to you. Please, give me another chance,” he pleaded in a soft, shaky voice. He looked as if he was about to cry.
I started to feel badly for him. Deep inside, I knew that was the most stupid thing I could do now. He didn’t deserve me. I wouldn’t put up with his violent ways any longer. But that little voice inside was whispering, and my resolve started to wobble. No! I scolded myself. No, no, no! But the voice was insistent, telling me that we should always try to forgive, and everyone deserved a second chance, that Seth now would finally understand and actually act accordingly. No! Absolutely not happening! But there must’ve been some good in him. Maybe, but was that enough?
I sighed, relaxing slightly.
A single tear rolled down his cheek. He quickly wiped it off with the back of his hand. He slowly shook his head from side to side and said in a quiet voice, “I can’t believe what I did to you. I’m such a bastard. I hate myself.”
Nobody should hate themselves. We all make mistakes; we just need to learn from them and grow. That’s what my mom taught me. All my life I’d believed that was the way we all should live. How could I turn my back on my convictions? But I had my pride and I wasn’t a pushover—I was a peacemaker, and that was the rudimentary difference that I had to act on.
“You …” I started and then cleared my throat. “You hurt me so much. I didn’t deserve what you did to me,” I spoke in a gentle tone. I shook my hair over my face again to hide the bruising when a group of people passed us on their way inside the Starbucks.
“Of course not. You never deserved any of this, Willow. I don’t know what got into me yesterday. I am so sorry. I don’t know what happened to me… I…” Tears were sliding down Seth’s cheeks, and he was sniffling. He hunched his shoulders and hung his head, while wiping his face with his fists. Snot ran down from his nose, and he wiped it on the back of his hand. He looked smaller than ever, a broken man, confused, and deeply sorry.
“Seth, I can’t go back. I can’t trust you—”
He looked up at me, his eyes widening. “Please, Willow. Please. I’ll do anything. Anything you want. I promise I’ll never hurt you again.”
I looked at him and felt my gaze grow steely. That peacemaker voice inside me tried to reason with me, but it lost its argument. Something else was clawing its way out from the dark depths of my soul. It was completely unknown to me, but quickly taking over. In that moment, I was no longer my mother’s daughter. I was a child victim of a repetitive abuse and an adult victim of domestic violence. The realization hit me like a hurricane: I let people prey on me because I always looked for what, most likely, wasn’t even there: some good side of them that I wanted to nourish until it took over the bad. What a stupid, stupid, stupid idea!
Seth must’ve noticed a change in my eyes, because he stopped begging. He just stood there, looking at me in seeming disbelief. His chin slightly shook and the corners of his mouth curved down. And then he did something I wished he didn’t—he raised his hand and tried to touch my face.
I smacked it away and, through clenched teeth, hissed, “Keep your filthy hands off me. Don’t you dare ever touching me again.”
His eyes opened wide, and something changed in his expression. I knew that look. He was getting pissed, and just like that all his remorse was gone. I was scared again, even more so than I was a moment ago—but I was also angry. I brought my arms back to my chest and realized my hands were fisted.
Seth noticed that too. An ugly smile twisted his features. “What? You’re gonna hit me? You?”
I didn’t take the bait. I clamped my mouth shut and concentrated on his body language. If he made a move, I would cover my face with my fists and scream bloody murder. Someone would come to my rescue. We were in a public place after all.
But he didn’t strike. He just stood there, looking at me. I looked right back and I didn’t like what I saw. A nasty combination of emotions was brewing behind his eyes. I couldn’t allow a confrontation with my psycho ex-boyfriend again, and definitely not here on the street.
I made a decision to run inside Starbucks if he started anything. He wouldn’t risk following me there. I would call the cops, which I had to do anyway, since I filed for restraining order, and now he was way too close to me. How the hell did he get out of jail so quickly?
I went for the door, but Seth’s hand clamped on my arm. He held onto it like a vice, pulling me back.
“Let go!” I hissed. I was furious and prepared to scream if he went any further than this. Knowing him, he was about to.
But he didn’t have a chance. A few things happened at once: Rita shrieked in the opened door, the cardboard tray with the coffee cups hit the ground, hot liquid splashed, forming a puddle on the ground, and something huge, covered with brown, sleek fur rushed at Seth, growling deep in its throat, huge jaws with sharp canines ajar.
I screeched, rushing away from both the enraged animal and Seth. I collided with Rita, and we both slid in the spilled coffee. I heard Jack shouting my name, but I was busy, trying to steady myself and Rita. We bumped into two teenage girls at the door, and they both shrieked, spilling their coffees over us and themselves.
Strong arms held me and Rita, the teenagers backed out of the way. Jack wrapped one arm around me and the other around Rita. His massive chest pressed against the side of my head, caging me in. “Cora! Stay!” his voice reverberated against my ear, rumbling in his chest.
Cora? That was Cora? I extricated myself from Jack’s hold enough to peak at the scene behind us. Seth lay on his back, sprawled on the ground with a large dog standing over him, its massive front paws on both sides of Seth’s head. The animal’s black muzzle was inches away from Seth’s face, lips angrily pulled from inch-long, sharp teeth. Seth wasn’t moving and only made small, squeaking noises, squeezing his eyes tight and turning his head to the side, as far as he could from the angry dog’s mouth.
<
br /> “Call her off before she bites him,” I said to Jack.
He turned looked down at me. “She won’t bite. She just makes sure he’s down. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
“No, he didn’t have a chance. I’ll tell you in a moment. Just call the police.”
“Oh, Lord! Jack!” Rita’s southern drawl was more pronounced than usual. “What the fuck is happening? Where did this asshole come from? I mean the guy, not Cora.”
I couldn’t help chuckling, but I quickly stopped. This situation was complicated, and we had to act fast before the quickly growing crowd misunderstood who was the actual victim and who was the attacker.
Jack must’ve come to the same realization, because he let us go and announced, pointing to Seth, “This man attacked my friend. My dog will not hurt him. She’s just making sure he won’t run off before the police get here.” To emphasize, he took his cell phone out and raised it up to show everyone what he was about to do.
A guy in black, running shorts and a dark-green t-shirt asked, “Do you need help?” His eyes darted from me to Jack, who was calling 9-1-1, and then to Rita. “Are you okay, ma’am?” He frowned, noticing my battered face.
I immediately bent my head down and brushed a lock of hair over my face. “I’m fine.”
He wasn’t convinced. In a low, gentle voice he said, “I’m a doctor. I can see you’ve been assaulted. Was that him?” He pointed to Seth.
I nodded. “I already went to emergency room yesterday. He got arrested last night.”
Rita’s arm wrapped around me in a protective and reassuring gesture.
“Last night? And he is out already?” The man’s eye brows shot up to his graying hairline. “His arraignment must’ve been conducted early this morning, then. I bet someone bailed him out.”
I shrugged. It didn’t really matter how he got out. He was going back for a long time. I couldn’t deny the conflicting feelings stirring inside me. I was angry and scared, but I also still felt sad for Seth. The sentiment was unwanted, and I tried to suppress it. I had to stop believing there was anything good in Seth, because clearly there wasn’t. I didn’t need any other proof.
Jack ended the call. He stood next to Cora, watching her. He said something quietly to her. Her eyes flicked up to him, but her muzzle stayed positioned right above Seth’s face. She was a good guard dog: obedient and apparently well-trained.
I put my head on Rita’s shoulder, and she rubbed my back in response. “You okay?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah. I just want to go. This is such a spectacle, and I hate people gaping at me.”
“I know and I’m so sorry. Just keep your head down. I hate for you to be here with all these people standing around, gaping. I swear, everyone loves to watch someone else in trouble”
“It’s in human nature, I suppose,” I muttered, thinking that I would stand and gape myself, if I was a passerby, witnessing such a scene.
How the hell did he find you here?”
“No idea. Multnomah County Courthouse is just a block away. I think that’s where he was held in jail.”
“This is just freaky.” She shook her head. “I’ll take you home as soon as we’re done here with the cops. Hopefully it won’t take long.”
“Trouble always seems to follow me, no matter what.” I sighed.
Jack came over and said, “The cops are on their way.”
I looked at his handsome face, framed in dark strands of hair. Two small scars seemed more visible than yesterday—one on his chin and the other right below his left eye. He must’ve gotten them while serving in the Marines or maybe during some rescue mission with the firefighters? I hoped they didn’t come from some street fights.
I had a hard time reconciling the memories of the Jack I remembered from high school against the conduct of the Jack who walked back into my life last night. Was he the same guy? There weren’t many similarities in the way he acted—at least not enough that I could detect so far.
The police car arrived and parked at the curb. Two officers got out—both men in their mid-twenties. Jack called Cora off, and she obediently padded toward him, pausing by his leg and then sitting down. He bent down, clipped a leash to her collar, and affectionately stroked the top of her head, murmuring something softly to her. She gazed at him in admiration, and her face stretched in a wide grin, tongue lolling over the sharp canines.
One officer went to Seth and the other talked to Jack. I walked to them with Rita by my side. I explained what happened this morning and then took out the copy of my restraining order against Seth from my purse. I passed it to the police officer. He unfolded the paper, read it, and turned to his partner, “We have a restraining order violation and a no contact order violation.”
The second officer read Seth his rights, clipped the handcuffs onto his wrists, and took him to the police car. It was just like yesterday, except for Seth not looking as cocky as he had the night before. He didn’t look back at me or Jack, and didn’t utter any threats as before. Instead, he kept his head between his shoulders and his eyes downcast.
I fought the resurfacing sense of remorse. I couldn’t feel sorry for Seth, no matter what. I had to have my own best interest in mind and feel strong about it, instead of always insisting on putting someone else’s needs first. This was the moment I made my big decision: I needed to learn how to quiet that voice inside me that constantly demanded me to be the Good Samaritan.
Chapter Nine
Rita was frantic. “Shit, Jack. If it wasn’t for you, that son of a bitch would have hit her again! You must be her guardian angel, I swear.”
“A guardian angel, eh?” That actually sounded good. I wouldn’t mind being Willow’s guardian angel. She definitely needed someone watch over her.
The police took Seth into their custody, prepared the report, and gave Willow a copy. He was going behind bars again, and I doubted he would be offered another chance at bail or be released on his own recognizance, whichever option he’d used this time. No question, the guy was fucking unstable. He needed to be locked up, but things could go wrong again, one way or another, and I wasn't taking any chances. Willow was coming with me, no matter what. I just had to convince her.
I drove Rita to her car and told her to meet me and Willow in her apartment. Willow and I returned to Vito’s. I parked the car right in front of the door to the tiny restaurant.
“I called them ahead of time and ordered, so the food is now ready for me to pick up.” I turned in my seat to look at Willow. “But I’m not leaving you alone in the car, and I doubt you’re up to going in.”
She shook her head, looking down at her hands folded in her lap.
Cora woke up in the back seat and raised her head, glancing outside through the window. I took my cell phone out and dialed the restaurant.
“Who are you calling?” Willow asked.
“The restaurant.” I pointed with my chin toward the building. “I know the owner and his sons very well. Someone will bring the food out, no problem.”
Her eyes widened. “Wow, that’s nice.”
I smiled at her. A raspy voice sounded in the phone, “Vito’s. How can I help?”
“Hey, Gianni. It’s Jack.”
“’Sup, bro? Your food’s ready and getting damn cold. Are you coming or should I help myself to it? Pop won’t let me eat until I finish fixing this fucking table.”
I chuckled. “Yeah? What’s wrong with the table?”
“Eh, just a bit wobbly. Nothing that a folded paper napkin wouldn’t fix, but you know my Pop—he’s a perfectionist. So I have to use some thick felt or shit instead. Are you coming to Elenah’s party?”
“I don’t know. Nash just called and asked me the same thing. I’ll try. Hey, can you do me a favor and bring that food outside? I’m parked in front of the restaurant.”
He laughed. “Fuck, bro. You’re becoming as lazy as an old, fat woman.”
“I have someone in the car and we can’t go inside.” I glanced at Willow,
ready to give her a reassuring smile, but she wasn’t looking at me. She was hiding her face behind a curtain of her hair. My heart constricted, and all I wanted was to hold her close to me and promise to take care of her. But I couldn’t force myself on her. That wasn’t the way to make Willow feel safe.
There was a brief silence in the phone and then Gianni said, “Sure thing. Give me a sec.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I nodded and hung up.
Willow glanced at me but didn’t say anything.
A moment later, Gianni opened the door and strolled outside, two plastic bags holding three containers and a few cans of Coke in his hands.
Loose jeans hung low from his narrow hips, the hems half-covering his thick-soled boots. He was clad in a black t-shirt and a black leather jacket with the Nash’s Club’s official raven and scull emblem on the back, and a small patch over the left breast pocket that read “Vice President”. Gianni was Nash’s right hand.
“I’ll be right back,” I said to Willow then opened the door and got out. “Hey, Gianni. Thanks for bringing this out.” I took the plastic bags from him and offered him a roll of a few ten-dollar bills.
“On the house.” He didn’t take the cash.
“Nah. Next time maybe.” I kept my hand with the money extended to him. I knew Vito’s restaurant was quite busy, but the volume wasn’t enough to keep steady cash flow all the time.
He shrugged, took the bills, and said, “As you wish, bro.”
“You didn’t go to Seattle with Nash?” I was surprised to see him here today, since he was the Club’s second-in-command.
“We had something going in Portland too, so I needed to stay and make sure things went right.”
I nodded. “I might see you on Saturday. If not, wish Elenah a happy birthday from me, would ya?”
“Will do.” He craned his head to look past me and asked in a curious whisper, “Who’s the girl?”
