A Proscriptive Relationship

by Jordan Lynde

  Mr. Heywood started towards me again, but Shawn quickly grabbed him. “Four,” he said in singsong voice.

  “Stop counting! Why are you doing this?” Mr. Heywood demanded, trying to kick his leg free. “Let go, damn it!”

  “You can’t figure it out?” Shawn asked in a mockingly disappointed voice. “Wow. Holly might end up dead before you do.”

  “What shit are you spouting out now?” Mr. Heywood demanded, glaring down at Shawn.

  Shawn shrugged. “You figure it out.”

  Mr. Heywood stayed quiet for a moment, staring down at Shawn with a hard expression. Shawn stayed on the ground, not even attempting to stand up. There was blood trickling down the edge of his lip.

  “You’re a bastard, you know that, Shawn?” Mr. Heywood suddenly growled, bending down to grab the front of Shawn’s shirt. In one swift movement, Mr. Heywood had him on his feet.

  “Have you figured it out?”

  “What do you want?” Mr. Heywood demanded, ignoring Shawn’s question. “Tell me, Shawn. Before I kill you.”

  Shawn laughed loudly. “If you kill me, Holly dies.”

  Mr. Heywood scowled. “What do you want?” he repeated.

  “I want to see you get the shit beat out of you,” Shawn responded simply, losing all signs of humor. “To see you get what you deserve.”

  “So you’re going to use dirty tricks so I won’t attack you?”

  Shawn cocked his head to the side. “Pretty much.”

  “I thought you said you were going to fight fair!” I shouted at Shawn, feeling the metallic taste of blood in my mouth.

  “I lied, Holly. You think you’d be used to being lied to, wouldn’t you?”

  Mr. Heywood yanked on Shawn’s shirt, yanking him closer. “If I let you have me, are you going to let Holly go?”

  Shawn glanced at me, amusement flickering in his eyes. “You want to bargain with me?” He looked back to Mr. Heywood with a tsk. “I don’t think you have the power to do that, Chris. I have the upper hand.”

  To prove Shawn’s point, Mikey grabbed me by the hair, yanking my head back. A cry of pain escaped my lips before I could clamp them shut. Just as I was about to retaliate, he let go. I quickly smoothed down my hair and took a wary step away from him.

  “What are you going to do with her?” Mr. Heywood growled, his shoulders tensed.

  “You really want to know?” Shawn asked. “Well, first I’d punish her for landing me in jail . . . but actually, I was planning to do that while you are still conscious—”

  “Punish me?” I repeated incredulously. “Because you were in jail where you belong?”

  Mr. Heywood sent me a warning look. “Holly, quiet.”

  “Holly, jail sucks,” Shawn responded simply. “And it’s your fault I was there. You and your little antics.”

  “You belong there!”

  “Holly!”

  “What?” I demanded, giving a hard look to Mr. Heywood.

  He returned my look with the same expression. “Stop talking back to him.”

  “You’re sticking up for me? Aw, thank you.” Shawn said, grinning. “But it’s okay. That’s what I like about this Holly—she’s feisty. It’ll be fun when I . . .” Shawn paused, for a second. “Well, I rather not ruin the surprise.”

  “You’re not touching her, Shawn,” Mr. Heywood stated threateningly. “If I don’t kill you now, you’re going back to jail.”

  “Kill me?” Shawn repeated with a scoff. “What makes you think you can kill me? I have backup.”

  Mr. Heywood glanced at Mikey, then the bald man. An amused expression flickered across his face. “I can handle them.”

  Shawn narrowed his eyes, but there was also an amused tone to his voice. “You sound confident. Tell you what, Chris. Let’s fight one-on-one. Fairly.”

  “How can I trust you?”

  Shawn glanced over to Mikey. “Mikey, go wait with Justin.”

  Mikey grunted in response, moving away from me toward the man with the shaved head. They both still looked menacing, but with them at a distance from me, I felt more relieved. The tense atmosphere between Mr. Heywood and Shawn still kept me on edge.

  “Alright,” Shawn started, turning back to Mr. Heywood. “Regular rules?”

  Mr. Heywood crossed his arms. “One-on-one rules. That means no help, and no involving bystanders.” He sent a pointed look at me. “If you as much as take a five steps in her direction, I’ll resort to dirty tactics too.”

  “Done and done,” Shawn responded, taking a few steps away from me. “See? I’m moving away.”

  “Then let’s get started,” Mr. Heywood said, clenching his hands into fists. “Last time we fought it took two minutes and forty-three seconds for you to go down. Let’s see if I can beat my record.”

  Shawn chuckled. “You were always so sure of yourself, Chris.” On the word Chris, Shawn sent his fist flying.

  A startled gasp left my lips as Mr. Heywood narrowly dodged. Shawn swung out again, his eyes glued on Mr. Heywood, who evaded the attack and countered, but Shawn quickly blocked it. After his block, he quickly brought his fist across, nicking Mr. Heywood’s nose.

  “No!” I cried out, taking a step towards him.

  “Holly, don’t come any closer!” he shouted back, never taking his eyes of Shawn. “Go to the car—”

  “Nope,” Shawn interjected, glancing at me quickly. “Holly, you stay there. If you try to go to the car, Mikey and Justin will stop you.”

  Mr. Heywood paused, his fists still at ready. “Why can’t she leave?”

  “You might not win,” Shawn responded simply.

  Mr. Heywood cast his fist towards Shawn’s face, but Shawn eluded it by leaning backwards. They continued a small match of swing and dodge for a few minutes. Neither of them landing any hits, nor having one landed on them. My stomach twisted uncomfortably every time Shawn came close to landing one on Mr. Heywood. Shawn suddenly caught Mr. Heywood’s fists, quickly bending his arm behind him. I gasped, wincing at the sharp twist of his limb.

  “I say, Chris, jail really took a lot out of you, huh?” Shawn commented casually, wrenching his arm further back. “First you let me hit you with a shovel, and now you let me catch your arm.”

  Mr. Heywood stayed silent, bending over with his arm so it wouldn’t break. My heart was in my mouth as I watched helplessly. I wasn’t expecting Shawn to get the upper hand in the fight. Without warning, Shawn briskly flipped Mr. Heywood over his shoulder. Mr. Heywood landed on the ground with a hard thump, emitting a small groan. Shawn stepped over him, putting a foot on each of his arms.

  “Having trouble?” Shawn asked teasingly.

  “I’m fine, thank you,” Mr. Heywood responded in the same tone.

  Shawn smirked. Mr. Heywood let out a huff of air, his arms twitching under Shawn’s feet. It wasn’t that hard to figure out Shawn was trying to crush Mr. Heywood’s fist. My eyes were glued to Shawn as he continued to smile smugly down at Mr. Heywood. It didn’t seem like he was going to stop until he broke his wrists. A sick feeling spread throughout me as I stood by, unable to do anything to help.

  “Does it hurt?” Shawn inquired when Mr. Heywood let out a small groan. “I remember how you always used to be wary of your wrists. You never liked them being touched.”

  Shawn lifted one of his feet. Relief washed over me—until Shawn abruptly brought his foot back down, stomping on Mr. Heywood’s wrist. A cry of surprise left my lips as Mr. Heywood cried out in pain. Shawn lifted his foot up to do it again.

  “Stop!” I shouted, watching him in horror. “Shawn! Stop!”

  Shawn spared me a single glance before grinding his heel into Mr. Heywood’s wrist. “Sorry, Holly. This is a fight.”

  “Damn it,” Mr. Heywood groaned, trying to pull his arm out from under Shawn.

  My feet started moving before I had even told them to run. Just as Shawn went to stomp again, I leapt at him, tackling him to the ground. We landed hard, Shawn somehow ending on top of me, and crushin
g me into the ground. His eyes were wide in surprise.

  “What are you doing?” he growled, putting his hand on either side of me, and trying to push himself back onto his feet.

  I quickly wrapped my arms and legs around him, trying to keep him on the ground. His arms gave out from under him, and once more we fell back to the ground. Shawn scowled at me, trying to pry my arms off.

  “This is a one-on-one fight,” Shawn enlightened me, pushing up from the ground again, taking me with him. “No help from bystanders. Or else we turn to dirty tactics.”

  I didn’t know what dirty tactics he meant and maybe I didn’t want to know. Shawn pulled his arms out from under him and my back hit the hard ground roughly, knocking the wind out of me. Shawn gave me a knowing look.

  “If you don’t let go of me, I’ll keep doing that.”

  “No you won’t,” a new voice interrupted. “Holly, let go.”

  I shook my head. “No, Mr. Heywood, you—”

  “Let him go,” he repeated, his tone hard. “Now.”

  Reluctantly, I released Shawn from my hold and Mr. Heywood kicked Shawn off me. Shawn rolled, swinging both his legs out, and somehow knocking Mr. Heywood over. He landed half on me, half on Shawn. Shawn got a tight grasp on him, flipping him onto his back. I scrambled out form under his legs, reaching over, and grabbing Shawn’s head. He growled in annoyance, letting go of Mr. Heywood to grab my arm. Mr. Heywood used this chance to right himself. As soon as Shawn shoved me away from him, Mr. Heywood shoved Shawn back to the ground, straddling him. Shawn gave Mr. Heywood a disgruntled look while Mr. Heywood pressed down on Shawn’s collarbone.

  “Are you ready to die?” he asked, moving his hands to Shawn’s throat.

  Shawn laughed humorlessly. “You can’t kill me, Chris.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  Shawn’s eyes trailed over to me. “Shouldn’t you keep an eye on Holly, too?”

  My arms were suddenly tugged behind me, bending backwards painfully. I glanced behind me to see Justin grinning at me. He yanked on my arms harder, making me take a quick inhale of breath.

  “What are you doing?” I heard Mr. Heywood demand.

  “I’ll leave that up to your imagination,” Shawn responded in a wicked tone. “I’ll give you a hint. Remember with the other Holly—”

  I turned back to the pair just in time to see Mr. Heywood smash his fist into the side of Shawn’s head. “You’re a bastard,” he growled, grabbing the front of Shawn’s shirt to pull him up, only to punch him down again.

  “Wait!” I called, trying to pull myself free.

  He ignored me, continuing to pummel Shawn who lay exposed underneath him. Shawn didn’t even bring up his arms to protect his face. It made me nervous. Why wasn’t Shawn fighting back? Why was he just letting Mr. Heywood batter him? Eventually Mr. Heywood stopped hitting him, relaxing his shoulders.

  “Why aren’t you fighting back?” he asked.

  Shawn shrugged, but before he could answer, a loud shout came from behind me. Mr. Heywood’s head snapped towards the noise, but I couldn’t turn to look because Justin still had his hold on me.

  “Shawn! The cops!”

  Shawn’s head turned towards the new voice, his face hardening. “What? How?”

  “A little friend named Jeremy,” Mr. Heywood informed him, rolling his eyes. “Did you really think I’d come here unprepared, Shawn?”

  Shawn narrowed his eyes. “Shit! We’re out of time. Send out the others.”

  My eyes widened. The others? What others? Justin wrenched me around, making me face the old, rundown building. My heart stopped beating when I saw men filing out the broken-down door. There were at least seven of them and they all looked intimidating and ominous.

  “I told you I had backup,” I heard Shawn comment. “I’ll let them take care of you.”

  I struggled in Justin’s grasp as the men disappeared from my view, heading towards Shawn and Mr. Heywood. Justin held me tighter, snickering. “I’m not letting you go,” he told me.

  I ignored him, twisting as violently as I could. Shawn said something incoherent from behind me, and I heard the first sound of a punch landing in a hand. Then another sound—this time of a punch landing on a chest. I struggled harder, growing frantic. Even if Mr. Heywood was a good fighter, he couldn’t take on eight men at the same time.

  “If you’re that desperate to see your hero get beat up, I’ll let you watch,” Justin said, twisting me around again. “Here.”

  My eyes landed on Mr. Heywood, who was being held still by four of the men. The other four men were standing in front of him, looking threatening. Shawn was standing to the side, wiping the blood off his face. I watched in horror as one of the men standing in front of Mr. Heywood brought a fist to his face. Before it landed I turned away, unable to watch.

  “Do you want to count the punches with me?” Justin inquired. “That’s one . . .” There was another smack, making me wince again. “Two.”

  Shawn’s voice rose among the noise. “So, Chris, I hope you enjoy jail as much as I did. I’m very aware about the fact that you’ll go back to jail if you were found to be engaging in gang activity.”

  My head snapped back to Mr. Heywood just in time to see him get slammed in the face. “Stop it!” I shouted, trying to move towards him. “Mr. Heywood!”

  “Are you going to answer me, Chris?” Shawn asked again, advancing toward where the three men held Mr. Heywood pinned. They moved to the side to let Shawn through. Shawn stopped in front of Mr. Heywood, bringing his head closer to him. He said something I couldn’t hear. Without any warning, Mr. Heywood elbowed two of the men holding him in the face, they both went down, and as they were going down Mr. Heywood smashed them for the second time. Then, before I could blink, he sent his fist straight into Shawn’s jaw, knocking him to the ground. Mr. Heywood then moved forward to attack him again, but all five other men were on him in a flash.

  “Mr. Heywood!” I screamed as he was knocked to the ground. “No!”

  While Mr. Heywood was on the ground, the men surrounding him began to kick him violently. My heart thudded painfully in my chest as I watched him be beaten. I thrashed violently in Justin’s arms, trying to break free.

  “Stop it!” I shrieked again, watching as one of the men aimed a kick to his face. “Please stop!”

  No one even glanced at me. Justin chuckled. “You may just get to watch him die.”

  “Shawn! Shawn! Please!”

  Still lying on the ground, Shawn turned to me. An amused grin spread across his face. “What? I can’t hear you Holly.”

  “Please, stop them!” I screamed at him, my throat already feeling raw. “Please!”

  “What?”

  “Stop them, Shawn. Please!”

  “What? Hurt him more?” Shawn responded, feigning confusion. “If you say so . . .”

  My eyes widened. “No!”

  Mr. Heywood let out a groan as someone stomped on his chest. I felt like I was going to be sick.

  “Oh, that looks like it hurts,” Justin commented.

  Angrily, I brought back my head to smash it in his chest. He must have had his head down, because I felt my head bang against his jaw. This caused him to relax his grip on me, and I was able to twist out of it. When he went to grab me again, I brought my knee up to his crotch. Instead of him falling down like I expected him to, he grabbed my hair, yanking my head back.

  “You bitch,” he growled, pulling me closer to him.

  Once again I forced my head back into him. He groaned in pain, letting me go for the second time. Without hesitating, I burst forward, heading towards the men surrounding Mr. Heywood. I shoved through them, throwing myself on top of Mr. Heywood. One of the men kicked my side, causing me to cry out in pain.

  “Stop it!” I heard Shawn shout. “Don’t hit her!”

  Immediately the men backed up, leaving me breathless on top of Mr. Heywood. He stared up at me, his eyes wide. Blood was tricking from the corners of his li
ps, and there was already a large bruise on top left of his forehead. He shut his eyes for a moment, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

  “Move,” I heard Shawn order gruffly and a few seconds later there was a pair of legs in front of me. I looked up to see Shawn glaring down at me. “Get up, Holly.”

  “No.”

  “Now.”

  I shook my head stubbornly, wrapping my arms around Mr. Heywood. “No.”

  Shawn gave me a hard look. “Holly, either you move away from him, or you’re just going to have to get beaten up with him.”

  “I’m not moving,” I told Shawn, holding onto Mr. Heywood harder. “I’m not leaving him.”

  Shawn glared at me for another moment before letting out a deep sigh. “Fine. I’ll tell them not to ruin your pretty face. Okay, boys?”

  There was a low chuckle throughout the group surrounding us. I shut my eyes, dropping my head onto Mr. Heywood’s chest, preparing myself. The slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed calmed me.

  “Holly,” he whispered in a pained voice. “Don’t—”

  “I’m staying,” I responded stubbornly, feeling my eyes begin to burn. “This is my fault. I’m not letting you do this alone.”

  There was the sound of shuffled footsteps as the men came closer to us. I held my breath, waiting for the pain. Before I felt any though, there was a low swear from Shawn. Mr. Heywood turned his head, a relieved expression coming onto his face. My first thought was that the police had come, and I just hadn’t heard their car. I turned too, letting out a sigh of relief. When my eyes landed on Jeremy, Lance, and two other men I didn’t know, my heart stopped.

  Each of the men had a gun. Jeremy had his pointed at Shawn, Lance had his pointed at the man closest to me, and the other two men were alternating pointing their guns at the other gang members.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Jeremy commented with a grin. “It took a little time to hunt down the backups.”

  Mr. Heywood gave a low chuckle. “You made it just in time.”

  “I thought you said the police were coming!” Shawn shouted at the man closest to me. “Not these guys!”