by BL Craven
“Wasn’t planning on it.” I put my foot down beside the kid’s head.
I glanced back at her. She couldn’t have been much older than the asshole on the ground. Her hair was auburn, and freckles were generously sprinkled across the swells of her ample chest. She attempted unsuccessfully to hold her shirt closed, black lace bra peeking out despite her efforts.
“You okay, miss?” I tried to keep my eyes locked on her face and mentally kicked myself for checking her out the way I did.
“Yes, no…I....”
“You’re going to need to ice that.” I gently touched the red spot on her cheek. The bottom of her eye was already swelling a bit.
“Yeah, I… Look out!”
The douche bag behind me had gained his feet while I checked on the girl. I looked at him before he tackled me to the ground. His face had colored to a dark purple in rage, and blood from his nose smeared sideways from contact with my knee.
I hit the ground hard with the guy on top of me, knocking the wind out of me. He swung wild punches to my head, but he was no fighter. I held up my free arm, protecting myself. Slowly, my breath returned.
My arms and shoulders would be bruised from his hits, but I waited for him to tire out or slip up. He slowed slightly, and I shot out a quick rabbit punch to his throat.
He choked, and his weight lessened on my chest. He tried to get up, but I wrapped my right leg around his chest as he held his throat, and pulled him sideways off me. I rolled onto his chest and pinned his arms with my legs.
I paused for half a second, and then rained blows down on his face, much in the same way he’d wanted to do to me. I ignored the hell it’d be on my hands, but perhaps it was the only way he’d understand. I’d either choose to hit him into submission or I could just kill him. I was trying really hard not to kill him.
A pattern of pounding emerged: eyes, nose, ear, side of the head, in the head. When I tired of throwing punches, I stood up and watched him roll back and forth. Blood poured out of his split lips and nose, and his eyes had already swelled shut.
Since he didn’t learn a lesson the first time, I threw in two good kicks to the lower part of his rib cage, gauging the pain by the expression on his face.
“No, no, no, no!” The girl’s small voice begged off to the side, and I turned to find her crying.
“Shhhh…here.” I pulled my flannel shirt off and handed it to her so she could cover herself.
“You killed him,” she whispered.
I looked behind me, thinking the worst but finding I hadn’t. He was just passed out from the pain, and his chest rose and fell slightly.
“He’ll live for now,” I told her, rubbing my hands across my arms, to warm them from the cooler air as the day had gotten later. My tank top was thin, and the absence of my flannel chilled me.
When I turned back to her, she had my shirt on. It hung big on her to a comical effect. The sleeves hung down past her hands and almost to her waist. She hugged herself and shuddered, but I guessed it wasn’t from the cold.
“Does Bill still have a working line out here?” I asked. She nodded.
I walked to the other side of the barn, keeping the still form of the guy in my sight. I put in a call to 911 and reported the attempted rape. As an afterthought, I suggested they might want to send an ambulance too.
The 911 operator sounded shaken by my matter of fact tone, but I didn’t care. They got the information of where to come, and I confirmed that I’d wait for them. The girl cried harder now.
“Shhhh—” I walked up close and put my arms around her. She leaned in, put her head on my chest, and sobbed.
I breathed in her scent of strawberries and vanilla, which tickled my memory. I patted her hair softly, kissing the side of her head. It was the only thing I could think to do; my heart and body were suddenly ready to defend this woman from any man. I’d never felt this strong of a pull towards a woman in my lifetime.
Then I heard the sirens. She stiffened in my arms at the sound, and I held her closer as she trembled.
“It’ll be over soon. Just be strong,” I told her gently, soothingly, and tried to ignore the effect she was having on me. She wrapped her arms around me, burying her face in my shoulder.
“He was going to rape me.”
“He didn’t,” I murmured, not sure if it was a question or a statement.
“No. He would have if you hadn’t come when you did.”
“He’s going to be gone for a long time. I’ll protect you from him,” I promised. She sobbed and squeezed me tighter. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight.
As the sirens grew nearer, the more immediate the buzz of ATVs and tires crunching gravel sounded outside the main door.
The big door rolled open, letting in a shaft of light, and three figures hurried through. It took me a moment to take them all in. Bill, Mom, and Jackson stood stock still as they analyzed the scene.
“Dammit, Cameron. I told you I’d like you to talk to him, not kill him,” Bill shouted, his face a mask of surprise and anger.
“Daddy!” The girl hurried from my arms and buried her face into Bill’s chest.
“Alison?” I asked, stunned.
Chapter Four
“How long are you going to hold me here, Sheriff?” I asked, having already been at the station for two hours.
“You understand that you’re in a lot of trouble here, Cameron, don’t you?” The sheriff gave me a stern glare.
“I only attacked when he was trying to rape her. Ask her.” I nodded toward Alison, who was visible outside the interrogation room window.
“Oh? He says you tore him away from a make-out session with your little sister and beat him unconscious. The doctor says he has broken ribs too. Maybe some internal bleeding.”
“That’s all?” I asked, irritated at being held up, or even detained for that matter.
“What do you mean, ‘that’s all’? You just beat a high school kid half to death.”
“That guy wasn’t in high school.”
“He graduates in a couple of months, but he’s still in school.”
“Is he eighteen?”
“Yes, but, I’m asking the questions here. Do you deny his claims?” he asked, anger in his voice.
“Sure do. It’s like I told you.”
“That you walked in, saw him attacking Alison Masterson, your sister, and…?”
“She’s not my sister.” I rubbed my arms, hating the chill in the interrogation room, but not wanting to ask him to turn up the temperature.
“Stepsister then.”
“Not even that.”
“You attacked her boyfriend,” he finished, tired of my interruptions.
“Pretty much.”
“So, by your own admission, you intended bodily injury to this boy?”
“Sure, he was trying to rape Ali… he had slapped her. He’s lucky I wasn’t angry.”
“What? You think you’re some kind of badass?” He leaned in so close to me that I could smell the garlic on his breath from his lunch.
I didn’t look away. If anything, I leaned closer, closing the distance so we were nose to nose. I held both hands out.
“So you want the cuffs?” he asked me.
“No, I’m not cuffed. That’s the point. So unless you pull a gun on me, yes, I’m the baddest of the bad asses in this room. I was defending Alison, and when he bum-rushed me, I put him down hard. I don’t like having to beat on people, but in this case… rapists are on my list of exceptions.” I knew I was pushing my luck, but the guy had been grilling me for two hours.
The cop pushed me back, hard. I didn’t really want to fight him, but I understood all about power and perception. I didn’t break eye contact, instead I got into his comfort zone. The fact that he’d pushed me without swinging or pulling the cuffs showed his fear. He created distance between us. The way he’d come after me troubled me. I was no hero, but I hadn’t expected to be hauled downtown and treated like the criminal.
I sat down, about to confront the sheriff about that. The door of the office slammed open, and an older woman in a business suit came in amidst a cloud of cigarette smoke. She gave me a wan smile before turning her attention to the sheriff. An unfiltered Camel smoldered in her clenched hand.
“Is he under arrest?”
“I’m investigating, and...”
“Don’t talk to him,” she told me, interrupting the sheriff.
“I’m trying to get to the bottom of...”
“So you have two witnesses who say your nephew tried to rape Alison Masterson and my client fought him off. Why isn’t your nephew in here, instead of Cameron?” She waved her hand at the desk I was sitting at.
“Your nephew?” My eyebrows raised.
“Shut up,” they both shouted at me.
They argued with each other. I stood up from the chair and let it flip over backward. Neither of them noticed me walk out of the interrogation room, right past them. My mother, Bill, and Alison were in the main lobby, talking with a deputy when I approached.
“So Sheila bailed you out?” Bill asked me.
“She the suit lady?”
“Yeah, she’s the lawyer we keep on retainer for the ranch.”
“Oh. Well, the sheriff didn’t arrest me, but I don’t think they are done arguing yet.” I nodded toward the office where the voices argued louder and louder.
“So you’re free to go?” Mom looked at me, then toward the front door.
“I should be. I guess the douche bag was the sheriff’s nephew.”
“Tim,” Alison corrected softly.
“What?”
“His name is Tim. He’s my ex-boyfriend.”
“Well, I doubt he’ll be back.” I turned to the deputy standing by my family. “Did they end up arresting him?”
His expression froze somewhere between priceless and ‘oh shit’.
“Did they?” I moved my body in front of him.
His mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he found his voice. “He’s in the hospital being evaluated. He’ll be charged once he can be moved. You really did a number on him.”
“Sorry about that. I was holding back,” I muttered, and playfully pushed on Alison’s arm, sending her crashing into Bill.
“Hey!”
“Hey yourself. You okay?”
“I am now.”
I had to fight the urge to not grin back.
“So are we free to go?” I asked the deputy.
“I don’t...” The office door slammed open, and Sheila stormed out.
“And if you don’t charge that kid, I’ll sue this department,” she threatened.
When she got to us, she barely looked in our direction.
“You’re good to go.” She power walked out of the station without stopping.
The deputy watched her figure disappear down the street in silence. He turned back to us and scratched the back of his neck. “I guess you’re good to go.”
“That lady scares me,” I whispered to Ali.
“I doubt it.” She pushed me with both hands and almost made me stumble. She snickered and smiled for the first time.
“Kids…” Bill’s instant fatherly tone broke the tension, and I cracked up, finally.
“Let's go get ice on your hands. And since we’re all in town, we can pick up your outfits,” Mom told us.
I looked at my hands, swollen and slightly crusted with blood from both Tim and me. I nodded and headed outside. Mom had driven my Jeep into town when the sheriff had put me in the back of his cruiser to bring me to the station. Bill tossed me the keys to drive, and the girls piled into the back seat as Bill and I took to the front.
“You know, the sheriff may hold a grudge,” Bill started.
“No jury would convict me.”
“No, probably not. Okay, let’s drive over to Gillie’s first, then how about we grab some lunch at the diner?”
“Sounds good.”
We bought Western-style clothing for the wedding at Gillie’s. When Alison tried on different shirts and came out of the changing room to look in the mirror, I tried to look uninterested.
Gone was the little girl with acne, and a slender woman a year out of high school had replaced her. I couldn’t quit stealing glances her way. She captivated my imagination as I replayed how she’d stayed strong throughout the ordeal.
Later, while we ate our lunch, the family filled me in on what had been happening in and around town, and why Mom hadn’t told me about her and Bill.
Mom’s tone held no apologies. “We wanted to make sure. Things ended bitterly the first time, and we wanted to make sure this time that we were doing it for the right reasons.”
It made sense that she’d keep some of her life with Bill apart from me. My first reaction would have probably been poor based on their history, and old feelings of hurt and pain would have flared up. I probably would have tried to talk her out of it.
“I’m sorry for how I was back then. I really wish you both the best,” I told them lamely. With reflection, I meant the words, and I relaxed into my new life that was going to include bigger changes than just coming home.
The lunch crowd was pretty much gone when we entered, but before we could leave, plenty of folks stopped in. I recognized many of them from the couple years I’d spent here before I joined the Army.
Most folks had heard about what happened, since a small town meant no secrets. Without much else to do in a thriving cattle community, people got bored, and listening to the police scanner brought folks out in droves. I kept my responses down to a polite howdy since I wasn’t sure if I was free and clear yet. Most understood, but some left puzzled, Tim’s guilt already decided in their minds.
The talk made Alison uncomfortable. I wanted to ask my parents if we could leave, but a heavy hand gripped my shoulder, fingers digging in around my collarbone. I stood with slow, but prepared, deliberation expecting the sheriff.
As I turned, the grip tightened harder. Alison’s eyes flashed a worried look. Bill stood up to face the stranger before me. He stood at my height with broad shoulders and steel gray hair closely cropped. His white cowboy hat hung low over his fiery blue eyes. The resemblance to Tim was unmistakable.
“Boy, you and I are going to have a talk.”
I pushed his hand off me. My strength in knocking off his grip surprised him. He regrouped to confront me, his body close enough I could smell the stale coffee on his breath.
“Back off, Carl,” Bill said softly, his voice hard.
“I’m guessing you’re related to Tim. So talk,” I told Carl.
Carl’s hands opened and closed into tight fists. “You hurt my son something bad. Bruised his throat. Doc says that it could have killed him.”
“You forgot about the broken ribs, busted nose, cut over his eye. Why worry about a bruised windpipe?” I asked him. I didn’t care if it pissed him off.
“You tried to kill him.” His chest heaved as he struggled to stay in control.
“No, if I try to kill someone, they usually get bagged and tagged.”
I stepped in close to his face, my cold military persona overtaking my personal feelings. I took his measure. Carl faced me head on, unlike his coward of a brother, the sheriff. My knuckles cracked in anticipation of another fight.
“So are you some kind of badass then?”
“Naw, I’m just a regular guy, but I don’t mind beating the ass of a would-be rapist.”
“He wasn’t trying to rape that stupid cunt...”
A hard slap that knocked the taste out of his mouth echoed in the heavy air. The hand that delivered it wasn’t Alison’s, as she sat in shock. Bill stayed across the table from us. My balled fists clenched at my sides, although I double-checked. Mom shook the pain from her hand as she stood beside me, her eyes blazing in fury.
“Don’t you talk about her like that,” she said, with a loud voice too big for such a small woman.
“Now I see where she gets it from,” Carl sa
id as he raised a fist.
Stupid must run in the family. When he turned his gaze toward my mom and raised his hand, he lost notice of me. Not wanting this to end like it had earlier, I gave him a quick but hard flick with my knuckles in his groin. The breath left his mouth, and his face turned green as my punch to his sack made him nauseous.
“Please, no fighting in here!” Jeanie, the manager, rushed out from behind the counter.
“Nope, no fighting,” I agreed. “I think he’s just got an upset stomach.”
“I’ll help you get him out to the bench out front.” Bill smiled at me.
“Fuck you guys,” Carl rasped, his breath coming out in gasps. Sweat broke out on his reddened face.
He stomped out the door, and Bill flashed me a quick grin before his face got serious again. He was paying the bill when the sheriff’s cruiser pulled in front of the diner. I tensed, not wanting to go back to the station and thinking the worst. It pulled away.
“Does trouble always follow you around?” Alison asked me, bumping my shoulder.
“Usually.” I kept my eyes on the road outside. I knew in my gut that admiring the fiery young woman would only lead me to trouble.
“Let’s go, dear.” Mom took my arm under my elbow, and we headed out. Thankfully, the rest of the day remained quietly filled with wedding plans we needed to finish before the big day.
Chapter Five
This was the second wedding of Mom to Bill that I’d stood in, and as far as weddings went, this one wasn’t driving me crazy. I didn’t know what I’d expected, but this was turning out to be a good time.
The whole ranch had the day off, and all ranch hands and their families were invited, along with half the town. The wedding was held in an open field, under a blue sky. I stood next to Jackson, who’d transitioned from ranch foreman to best man well. His wife, Sandy, stood across from him at Mom’s side.
Alison shot occasional glancing looks from her flowers across to me as she shifted on her feet next to Sandy. I kind of felt self-conscious with half the residents of the county there. When everybody cheered at the final kiss and rushed forward with congratulations, my insecurities melted. I got more than my fair share of hugs and kisses on the cheek too. A couple of the ladies I went to school with whispered their phone numbers to me, stroking my ego and making me smile.
