by Hamel, B. B.
Brent shakes his head. “You can’t stay with him. You absolutely can’t be around him.”
“I know.” I bite my lip. “I can’t marry that boy. I’m not going to do it.”
“I know,” he says. “You’re not going anywhere near them again.”
I stare into his eyes. He stares back at me and I can’t help but wonder… “Why are you doing this?”
“Because,” he says.
“Because why?”
He seems to struggle for a moment. “When I saw you… your limp, your break… and talked to you, I just… I knew I had to find out what really happened. I knew I could help you if you told me the truth. And now I know I’m going to.”
“That doesn’t explain why.”
He leans toward me, eyes fierce. “Because I want you, Amber. And I protect those that I want.”
I stare back at him, heart racing. I can’t believe he just said that. I feel like now we’ve gone past the point of no return. He’s not my doctor anymore. He’s a man, and his eyes tell me that he wants a lot more than just a professional relationship.
And I feel the same way. He’s handsome, gorgeous really. He’s muscular and tall and everything I want. I don’t care if he was my doctor.
He’s not anymore. He’s something else.
“What do we do?” I ask.
“Finish lunch. We’ll figure out what to do after that.”
“Are you… sure? You don’t owe me anything. You know that, right?”
“I told you. I protect what I want, Amber. And I want you.”
I feel that thrill again. I just nod at him, like there’s no way I could argue.
“Eat,” he says. “Go ahead. We might as well.”
He’s seething with rage. I can see it all over. He attacks his food like it murdered his puppy. I take a few bites of the eggs then nibble at the toast before sipping the water.
An odd feeling rolls over me. It’s part relief, part fear… and part desire. I want this man more than I thought I could, but I’m so afraid of what happens now. At the very least, I’m relieved to have told someone my story.
And relieved that he believed me.
We finish eating and he puts some cash on the table. “Come on.” He leads me out, helping me along. I limp after him, down the ramp, and toward a big black truck parked in the back.
“Of course you have a truck,” I say with a smile.
“It’s Texas. When you move here, they just hand you one.”
“That and a gun rack.”
“Absolutely.” He laughs but there’s tension in his voice. We reach his truck and he opens the door.
I turn around to thank him and find him inches away from me. He puts his hands on my hips, head cocked slightly.
“I meant it when I said I wanted you,” he says, his voice pitched low. “And I meant it when I said I’d protect you. I won’t let him hurt you again. I’m going to take you home, and we’ll figure out what to do together. If things get bad… you lock yourself in your room and call me. Okay?”
“I can’t ask that from you.”
“You don’t have to.”
He leans down and kisses me.
I feel that spark again, but this time it’s a huge jolt. I kiss him back and shock myself with my own hunger. I taste his lips, his tongue, and if we weren’t in public right now, I’d want more him from.
But the kiss breaks off. He breathes in my smell and I cling to his body for a second longer.
“Come on,” he says. “Let’s get you back.”
He helps me up into the truck and gets me settled before he goes into the driver’s seat. I stare at him for a long moment, not sure what to think. He turns the engine on, letting it roar to life, and slowly pulls forward.
Maybe this is a mistake. Maybe he’s not the man that’ll protect me.
But I don’t think I care.
I just want to give myself to him right now. Every inch of myself… all of me. I want to see what he’ll do with it.
6
Brent
Every time I think about her father kicking her down a staircase, anger rips through my body like claws.
I can’t imagine the kind of man that would kick his own daughter down some steps. He must’ve kicked hard, and she must’ve been up high, because that break was nasty. She’s lucky that’s all that happened. She’s lucky she didn’t smash her head in or break her back.
Fucking hell, yeah, she’s real fucking lucky.
I clench my jaw. We’ve been texting constantly since that afternoon. It’s been a couple days and she says she’s staying away from her father, which is easy since he works all the time, but she’s worried.
Amber: I don’t know what to do. This can’t be long-term.
Me: Is there anywhere you can go? Anyone you know?
Amber: I have friends, but… no, not really. I mean, none of them live in Texas anymore.
Me: Family?
Amber: No, not really.
Me: Lucky.
Amber: You don’t get along with your family, either?
Me: Let’s just say, my family is a little bit… odd.
Amber: I’d like to meet them.
Me: No, you wouldn’t. But we’ll get there if we get there. For now, we need to figure out what you can do.
It’s driving me insane. I can’t handle this strange in-between space. I want a plan but nothing’s coming to me.
The only solution I can come up with is calling the police. But she says we can’t do that. Part of me wants to make her come stay at my place, but I’m not sure she’ll go along with that, either. I think she’s afraid that if she leaves her father’s place, he’ll hunt her down and do something more drastic.
She’s afraid. I get that. I can’t blame her after what he did to her.
But I still need to solve this problem.
It’s late, after nine. I’m doing extra busywork, getting myself in a good position. For once I want to get ahead of the paperwork.
I finish up another form and lean back in my chair when my phone starts ringing. I jump at it and answer right away when I see Amber’s name.
“Hey,” I say. “You okay?”
“Brent.” Her voice is low, a whisper. “He found the texts.”
“He… what happened?”
“My dad. He found our texts. He’s really mad.”
“Okay. Where are you? Are you safe?”
“I’m locked in my bathroom.” I can hear yelling in the background, someone pounding on a door. “He can’t get in.”
“Can you get out?”
“There’s a window. I can climb, but…”
“You can’t drop out. You’ll hurt your leg.” Shit, shit, shit. I don’t know what to do. My head’s spinning until it just clicks into place. “Give me your address.”
“What are you doing?”
“Give me your address. I’m going to ring your bell. When your dad comes to answer the door, get out of the bathroom. Can you get out the back way?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “He’s really mad.”
“I can distract him. Shit, I’ll break his fucking knees.”
“Don’t,” she says. “You’ll only make it worse.”
“Then sneak out the back. I’ll meet you.”
“What then?”
“We’ll figure it out from there. Text me your address. I’m already on my way.”
I hang up the phone. I jump up, grab my keys, and run out to my truck. Her address is waiting there in my phone. I plug into the GPS and turn the engine on. I peel out, diving into traffic, and driving fast.
She‘s on the other side of town, out further into the more rural areas. I press on the gas, driving a little recklessly, but the thought of her trapped in a bathroom while her psycho father pounds on a door like Jack from The Shining makes my skin crawl.
That fucker. That motherfucker. He breaks her leg and thinks he owns her.
I drive faster, faster. I’m grinding my teeth in ra
ge. I reach her place in about ten minutes. I hit her long, bumpy driveway before parking out front, a cloud of dust hanging around my truck.
I jump out and walk to her door. I’m not thinking. The place is huge, like a fucking mansion made to look like a ranch. It’s a typical rich fucking Texan kind of place, no class and all flash.
I pound on the door then ring the bell three times. I hear shouting inside. I pound on it some more, ring the bell some more. I’m moving from foot to foot, getting impatient, when the door flies open.
“What the fuck—” Her father stops himself and stares at me. I know it’s her dad as soon as I see his face. He’s red, flushed with anger, and I can smell the drink on his breath. He stares at me and narrows his eyes. “I know you.”
“Do you?” I ask.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re…. You’re her doctor. You’re that therapist guy.”
“Physiatrist,” I say. “Like a physical therapy doctor.”
“Right, yeah. What are you doing here, doc? You make house calls now?”
“I’m checking on a patient,” I say. “I noticed some… abnormalities on her last scan.”
“Her… last scan?” He blinks at me.
I want to punch his fucking face. He looks like a sniveling little prairie dog with big buck teeth and a scrunched-up nose. I want to break that fucking smile and bash his skull in on the ground.
But I know that’ll only make her upset. I can’t do that and risk her doing something stupid, like staying behind to try and fix her father’s bleeding and broken body.
So I hold back. Fucking hell, it hurts to hold back.
“CT scan,” I say, lying out my fucking teeth. “Real bad. Saw a shadow on her lower torso and thought I should come over and talk about it.”
“House call,” he says again. “Like when I was a kid. They used to make house calls. Can you picture it?”
“I can. I’m here.”
He nods a little. “Shadow. That’s bad, right? Cancer?”
“Maybe. Or another break that never healed right. Could be a lot of things.” I look around and spot movement on the right side of the house. I’m not sure that it’s her, but I’m going to take the chance. The longer I stay here, the more likely it is that I’m going to hit this guy.
“I think… she’s in here… somewhere.” He narrows his eyes. “I think I can get her out. Yeah, right. She’ll come out for this.”
“Go and get her,” I say. “Go ahead. I’ll wait.”
He nods once and turns away. He stalks into the house. “Amber! Your doc’s here! Amber, it’s really bad. He needs you, damn it. Amber!”
I shut the door and turn away. I walk down the steps and she comes out from the shadows. She stares at me, eyes wide. “Brent,” she says.
I grab her and hug her tight. She stumbles against me and I just hold her.
“Come on,” I say, helping her to the truck. The front door opens again just as I get her inside.
“She isn’t there,” he calls out. “I’m trying to find her. How bad did you say, doc? Doc, what are you doin’ down there?”
“You know what,” I call back. “On second thought, I think you should just go inside and fuck yourself, you coward motherfucker piece of shit.”
He gapes at me. “That’s not… nice. What?”
“You’re a sick fuck.” I get behind the wheel and turn on the truck. Amber laughs at me, delighted by my little outburst, but I’m almost shaking with rage. I want to hurt that man so badly I can barely hold back.
She puts her hand on my arm. I’m flexing, I realize. I’m flexing because I’m thinking about breaking his skull.
“It’s okay,” she says. “Let’s just go.”
I peel out, spitting rocks and dirt up. Her father just stands there on the porch, dumbfounded.
We drive away. Once we’re on flat road, I slow down a little bit.
“Are you okay?” I ask her.
She nods. “I’m fine. He didn’t touch me.”
“Yelled plenty, though.”
“Yeah… well. He found our texts.”
“How?”
She tenses. “He looked through my phone. I didn’t know he did it.”
“That asshole.”
“I’m sorry. I would’ve deleted them… I didn’t know he was stooping to that. I didn’t know he was treating me like a child.”
She sounds angry now, too.
Good. I want her to feel angry. That’ll make what happens next come easy.
“You’re going to stay with me for a while,” I tell her.
She looks at me, a little surprised. “What?”
“You’re going to stay with me. I won’t let your father come near you until we figure out what to do from there.” I shake my head, angry with myself. “I never should’ve sent you home from that diner.”
“Wait… I can’t let you do that. I can’t impose like that.”
“Amber.”
“No, really. Brent, you’re helping a lot as it is, but I can’t just take over your home as well. You don’t owe me anything.”
I put my hand on her thigh and squeeze it. “Listen to me, girl. I told you once already. I protect what I want.”
She bites her lip and I relax my grip. “I just… are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” I say.
She doesn’t answer. I keep my hand on her leg, her pretty thigh. She’s wearing jean shorts and a t-shirt, and I realize that’s all she has in the world.
“We’ll have to figure out clothes,” I say. “Get you toiletries, all that shit. I’ll buy whatever you need.”
“Brent,” she says.
“Money isn’t an issue.”
“I know you’re a successful doctor, but still.”
“Amber.” I look at her with a little smile. “Money’s not an issue. And not just because I’m a successful doctor.”
She cocks her head slightly. “What?”
“I told you that my family is odd, right?”
“Yeah, you mentioned it.”
“Well… you don’t know the half of it.” I squeeze her leg again then let it go. “I’ll tell you later. But for now, just trust me, okay?”
“Okay.” She says the word like a whisper. “I don’t know what I’d do without you right now.”
“You’d figure out something. You’re a smart girl and resourceful. And fucking strong. Anyone that survives what you’ve gone through already is strong.”
She bites her lip but doesn’t say anything.
“I know it’s hard right now,” I say. “But believe me, I’m going to take care of you from here on out.”
“I believe you. If you believe my story, I think I can believe you.”
I smirk at her. She reaches out and takes my hand then leans her head on my shoulder.
I drive the rest of the way in silence, letting her hand hold mine, letting her body move close.
7
Amber
Brent lives on the opposite side of town down a long, quiet winding road. We turn into his driveway and slowly move past trees waving in the light breeze until a cabin materializes up ahead. He parks out front and kills the engine.
“This is it,” he says.
“I imagined you living in an apartment.”
He laughs a little and climbs out. “Why?” he asks before coming around to my side.
“I don’t know,” I admit. He helps me down and lets me lean on him as we walk to the front door. “I guess you just strike me as a city guy.”
“Ouch.”
“It’s not a bad thing.”
“Well, you’re wrong. This is home.”
I hesitate. “Your accent. You don’t sound like you’re from around here.”
“I’m not,” he admits. “I’m from Virginia. At least, that’s where my family’s from originally.”
“How’d you end up here?”
“I listened to that Lyle Lovett song and took it literally.”
I bark a laugh. “The one about
Texas wanting you anyway?”
“That’s the one.” He grins at me. “Steps. Ready?”
“Ready.” There are only four, but he helps me up each one, being careful. There’s almost no pain at all. “So you’re a country fan.”
“Not really. I guess. I don’t know.” He laughs and opens the door. “You can just call me a music fan.”
The inside is not what I expected at all. I was picturing bare wooden floors, gaps in the walls, a rundown little shack. From the outside, it’s pretty unassuming and plain.
But the inside is gorgeous. There are big windows on the other side of the cabin overlooking the forest as it bends down and away. The yard is steep but the view is insanely gorgeous. His kitchen is new, all marble and tiles and sleek gleaming appliances. There’s a living room, an enormous stone fireplace, a black wood-burning stove, and so many records I can’t even begin to count.
“Wow,” I say with a laugh. “This is…”
“I had it built,” he says. “When I moved out here. I figured I’d make something nice for myself.”
“This is incredible.”
“Thanks.” He helps me over to the kitchen island. I lean up against it. “I have a guest room upstairs, it’ll be all yours. I need to make it up though. Right now it’s sort of my office.”
“I don’t want to take anything away from you. I can just sleep on the couch.”
“No way. Your leg will ache like crazy.”
I smile despite myself. It’s hard to imagine a person that actually thinks about my pain more than I do, but he seems to have it on his mind at all times.
“Well, okay. I guess.”
“And we’ll get you clothes and stuff tomorrow. I’ll run out for the essentials in a little bit. Want the tour first?”
I nod. “Please.”
He gestures around him. “Kitchen.”
“I see that. Cook much?”
“Not really. I’m in the office all the time so I just eat out.”
“It’s a nice kitchen. Maybe I’ll break it in.”
