“He... deserves... every... single... prank.” Tara sucks in some air before laughing again.
“The man’s a prick. Hence the giant dick. Because he is one.”
Mrs. Scozzari laughs as Mr. Scozzari squeezes her toward him, trailing his nose along her neck. “You are in so much trouble later. You do realize that, don’t you?”
“Ugh, disgusting,” Jeremy retorts. “I’m out of here. Caitlin, are you ready?”
Smiling, I answer yes.
We all hug and say our goodbyes before walking toward Jeremy’s car. It’s only when I get in and buckle up that I realize how happy I am right now. I haven’t smiled so much in a long time.
“Your parents are so cool.”
Jeremy starts the car before turning to me. “Do you find it cool when they maul each other in front of you?”
I smirk, finding the whole situation highly amusing. “I think it’s nice that they still find each other attractive after all these years. They can’t keep their hands off one another. It’s almost as if they’ll lose each other if they do.”
Jeremy pulls away and starts to drive. I think he’s going to say something more about how nauseating the whole thing is, but then he surprises me. “I think it has a lot to do with their past. Their story didn’t exactly start well. My dad was a prick to her because he thought she had cheated on him, when it couldn’t have been further from the truth. I don’t know the whole story, but they lost each other three times in total and vowed never to again. I remember being four and this funny man suddenly showed up with eyes like mine and a smile so sincere I instantly trusted this stranger, who turned out to be my dad.”
I think on that reflectively. “It’s sad he wasn’t there for you from the day you were born.”
He shrugs one shoulder, keeping his eyes focused on the road. “It is, but I was only four. I don’t remember anything before my dad came along, so effectively he was there from the beginning. I shouldn’t remember, but it was such a huge, significant time in my life that it stuck. That, and what happened to me.”
His whole body tenses and I know immediately he’s talking about his kidnapping. I remember once sleeping with him in a tent in his back garden one summer evening when we were little. He had a nightmare and I asked him if he was okay. That’s when he told me he had been kidnapped when he was four and had been having nightmares since. That was the first time I had ever gotten a glimpse at his vulnerability. He had asked me not to tell anyone and I haven’t betrayed that trust to this day.
“Do you still have nightmares?”
His whole body tenses at my question. I feel like a jerk for bringing it up, but my curiosity got the better of me.
“Do you want the truth, or the version of what I would tell my best friend if they asked?”
“Always the truth, Jeremy.”
He lets out a slight laugh before saying, “I hate my name, but love it when it comes from your lips. Funny that, huh?”
I clasp my thighs together as instant heat radiates through me. He’s like the ice to my fire, the sun against my storm. He’s everything I try to stay away from, and yet here I am opening up to each other like it hasn’t been five years since we last saw each other.
“I don’t like to admit it, but I do.” I look his way and he notices, quickly taking his eyes off the road to peep at me. “The nightmares. They still come.”
“Do you think it’s because you haven’t truly dealt with what happened to you?”
“Training is how I deal with it. My dad taught me to box at a young age. Then, when I was young enough, I enrolled in karate classes, self-defense classes. All so that I get them to stop.”
“But they don’t.”
He lets out a sigh. I can hear the defeat within that sigh. “No. What helps is I volunteer some Saturday mornings at the local gym. They hold a self-defense class there. It’s free for any women, but unfortunately the ones who do show up are the people who have suffered at the hands of an abusive relationship. It’s hard hearing their stories, but fulfilling when they turn up looking timid and leave looking like the lionesses that they truly are.”
Closing my eyes, I swallow my unease at how the conversation has turned to something close to my heart. A bit too close. I had often wondered myself if I should do self-defense classes, but was put off by the fact I didn’t want to turn up there looking like a victim. It’s stupid, I know, but the thought is always there.
“It’s very admirable of you,” is all I say.
“I wouldn’t say that. Any man in their right mind would want a woman to feel safe when they’re walking down the street. They should have every right to be.”
“Of course.”
My tongue is tied. How do I address this issue without letting it accidentally slip that it happened to me? I had ignored the fact Isabella brought up Jeremy punching people for money, simply because I didn’t want to think he was capable of such violence. I know he only does it because of the money, but it still nags at me a little. But, now, listening to how he volunteers at self-defense classes and how he is over his sister, it helps cement the fact that all in all, Jeremy is a protector. It’s almost like he was born for it.
“Thank you,” he suddenly says, snapping me out of my daydream.
My eyes narrow into a frown as I stare across at him. “For what?”
“For not making me feel like a complete embarrassment earlier.”
Ah, he’s talking about that moment when I held his hand. “It wasn’t embarrassing. It was sweet. Kind of hard to hear that you were like that when I left, but sweet nonetheless.”
He glances my way, a big smirk spread across his lips. “Ah, I knew I would be able to make you fall in love with me all over again. It’ll take time, but I’ll crack open that hard eggshell of yours bit by fucking bit.”
Despite his arrogance, the sentiment makes me laugh. “Are you still planning on stalking me?” I joke.
Grabbing my hand, he picks it up, kisses it, and then lays it on his gear lever, clasping his fingers around mine. “Oh, baby. You haven’t seen anything yet.”
The whole time I was driving Caitlin home it took everything in my willpower not to pull over and take her in my arms. I remember when we were younger she was always like a drug to me. One smell of her and I instantly wanted more. After dropping her off and reluctantly saying goodbye, I lit a small joint. Not only to calm my thoughts, but also to erase her smell. If I hadn’t done that, there’s no telling what I would have done. No doubt, I would have made a fool of myself in the process too. I didn’t like smoking weed when I had to drive, but one small hit never harmed anyone. I would rather drive calm than with a permanent erection straining in my jeans.
When I get home, my mobile immediately alerts me to a call. I look down, seeing that it’s Amy, and for a moment I hesitate my finger over the END button. After my time with Caitlin, I don’t want it tainted by another girl. It was nice being with her again, catching up on old times. It was a reminder as to why we were such good friends in the first place. There’s still something holding her back, though. I don’t know what that is, but I’m sure I will get there one day.
With my finger still hovering over the END button, I sigh and switch over to press ACCEPT instead.
“Amy, can this wait till tomorrow?” Immediately, I hear her sob and heckles instantly rise. “Amy, what’s wrong?”
I hear her intake of breath between sobs. “It’s... it’s Barry. He’s... he’s taken too much and he’s being aggressive.”
Just as she says this I can hear loud banging noises in the background. “Stop lying, Amy. I’ve not done nothing. You’re the aggressor.”
I hear the slurring of Barry and can tell without even seeing him that he’s on something. “Barry, please. Stop this. Don’t come near me. Stop!” I hear her screaming and my pulse reacts. I’m already heading for my car before I even tell her.
“I’m not touching you, Amy! Stop lying,” I hear Barry shout.
I hear
her scream and my adrenaline kicks in. “Amy, listen to me. Go lock yourself in the bathroom. I will be there in five minutes.”
“Please hurry,” she whispers into the phone. I hear her brother shouting, “What the fuck’s wrong with you,” before the call goes dead.
As my tires screech away from the driveway, I make the ten-minute journey in five minutes simply because I was driving twice the speed limit most of the way there. It’s a wonder I didn’t get caught, but right now the only thing that’s on my mind is making sure Amy’s safe. I may not love her like she wants me to, but I still care. I still want her to be safe in her own home. Her parents are recently dead from overdosing on drugs, but when they were around, they were constantly fighting. The amount of times I’ve been on the phone with Amy to try and calm her down because her mom and dad had yet another fight.
When I pull into the driveway by Amy’s house my tires screech again before I make my way to the door. I hear a lot of muffled shouting, but I can’t make out what’s being said. I bang my fist on the door to alert Amy that I’m there and when she doesn’t answer still, I keep on banging. I’m wondering whether I’ll need to break a window or something when the door finally opens. Amy stands in the doorway, mascara running down her cheeks, her top ripped open by her right sleeve, but that’s not the worst of it. She has a developing lump and bruise on her forehead. I step into the house and inspect her head. “He did this?” I ask, my anger rising to new levels. I may not be as innocent when it comes to violence, but I’ve been brought up well. I know when to utilize it and when not to. And in this instance, when I know a man has hit a woman, my justification for me to kill the motherfucker has neatly presented itself in my head.
Amy’s lip trembles before she answers. “I fell...”
I take in a huge deep breath. “Don’t you dare feed me that bullshit, Amy. Did the fucker do this to you head?” When I see fresh tears pool in her eyes and a slight nod of her head, that’s all the answer I need.
I head into the house, first going into the living room before venturing off into the kitchen. I spot Barry shaking and pacing the floor. When he looks up and spots me, his eyes widen in fear. Not so fucking big now, are you?
He points a finger back out in the direction of where I came in. “She’s... she’s fucking crazy.”
I stalk toward him. “I tell you what fucking crazy is, you scumbag. You thinking it’s okay to hit a woman. It’s never fucking okay.”
“But... but... I didn’t.”
I don’t let him speak anymore. By the time he has the last word out, my fist is already flying through the air and landing my signature hook on his left eye. He goes down, but I’m still so pumped, I grab his collar and start punching him again and again. He’s unconscious, but I can’t stop my anger channeling in on this fucker.
“Jez!” I hear Amy scream, but it’s almost like it’s ringing in my ears—like a distant sound. I carry on punching him, aware that there’s blood all over his face, both eyes are now swollen, and I’m pretty sure I’ve broken his nose several times over.
“Jez! Stop! You’re going to kill him!” I snap my hand back to punch him again when I hear sirens in the distance. “The neighbors have called the police,” Amy starts, in a panic. “Go... now. If you don’t they’ll arrest you.”
“I can’t leave you.”
Amy runs toward me, so I let Barry go and hear the clunk as he hits the floor. Amy’s shaking when she places a hand on my shoulder. “I can’t let you get into trouble for him. He’s not worth it. Go. Now. Before the police get here. I’ll call you once I’ve dealt with them.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, knowing the sirens are getting louder. If I don’t go soon, I’ll have no choice but to stay.
“Yes. Please, Jez. Just go.”
I nod, running for the door and quickly looking left to right before I run into my car. I can’t see the police cars yet, but I can definitely hear them. I start the car as swiftly as possible, put it in drive, and head for the end of the street. Despite every instinct in me to drive like a bat out of hell, I drive slow, so as not to alert the police. And then they’re in view. Four of them, one after the other come closer and closer to me as I drive toward them. My heart is in my mouth, drumming a million miles an hour. I hold my breath and try to slink down in my seat a little so they don’t see me. I’m acting like a criminal, but I guess that’s because I am one.
One by one, they all whizz past me and it’s only when the last one disappears from my view that I let out a breath. I close my eyes for a moment, only opening them again as I need to see the road. I wonder if I should pull over for a moment and catch my breath, but the fact I almost pummeled someone to death keeps me going.
And then a dark thought enters my head.
Have I killed him?
My heart rate picks up again when I think about that. I know I can render a man unconscious with one punch, but I have never, ever had to punch someone more than once. Amy’s right, I don’t deserve to go down for the likes of him, but once I started, I just couldn’t stop myself. All I saw when I was hitting him was Amy’s fucking bruised up forehead.
I grip the steering wheel a little tighter and it’s then I wince in pain, only now noticing that my hand is fucked up. Blood. All I can see is blood. I briefly look down and that’s when I see it on my shirt too.
“Fuck!”
I step my foot a little more on the gas. Now that I have another man’s blood on my hands, I’m eager to get home and take a shower. And preferably burn my shirt.
When I finally reach home, I notice Calvin sitting casually watching TV with a beer resting in his hand. He’s oblivious at first, choosing to greet me without even looking.
“What’s up?” he asks. When he doesn’t get an answer and I carry on past him to head for the shower, I hear him getting up. “Jez?” he asks again, this time with more concern in his voice. I continue to ignore him and reach the sink to start the water running. I wince as it hits my sore hand, but continue to wash off the blood.
“Shit. What the fuck happened to you?”
I turn briefly and see Calvin’s eyes widening in shock—no doubt at the state I’m in.
“Amy called. Her punk of a brother was high and hit her.”
“Fuck. Is she okay?”
“She’s okay, but her brother, not so much. I had to fucking leave her, Calvin. The police came and I left her.” Shaking my head, I close my eyes. I have many faults, but I’m not a coward. However, tonight proved that theory wrong. Amy needed me and I left her to deal with all that shit I left behind on her own.
“Did she ask you to stay?”
Thinking I’ve managed to get as much blood off as possible, I turn to him, shaking my head. “No. She was the one who told me to go, but I still left her to it, Calvin. What kind of a punk does that make me?”
Calvin’s eyes widen again as he rears his head back. “Fuck, Jez. You went over there and saved her from her asshole brother and yet you’re calling yourself a punk? How do you think Amy would feel if you got arrested because of her shit of a brother?”
“That’s what she said.”
Calvin lays his hand out. “See? No use in you getting into trouble. If you do, it better be worth the person to get into trouble for.”
My hand now throbbing, I close my eyes and lean my head back against the wall. “I beat him up pretty badly. I don’t even know if he’s alive.”
Calvin nudges me, so I open my eyes. “Go take a shower. Put your clothes in the wash. I’ll fix your hand, and only then will we find out what the fuck’s going on. Okay?”
With a slight smile, I nod. He quickly takes that as his cue to leave and shuts the door behind him on his way out. I turn the shower on, undress, and quickly get under the hot spray. My hand is killing me, but by this time I don’t care. I have something more pressing on my mind than my hand.
As a toying reminder, a little of the water in the bath starts to turn pink. I close my eyes, not wanting to see it
, but the more I close them, the more I can still see it in my head. Reluctantly, I open my eyes again and when I do I spot that the water is now running clear. I sigh, making sure to wash thoroughly before getting out of the shower and wrapping a towel around my waist. I grab my clothes, taking them quickly to the utility area and loading up the washing machine. I put it on and proceed to get dressed before heading down to the kitchen. There, I find Calvin sitting at the table, a first aid kit already at hand and a glass of something that looks very strong waiting by the empty seat. I sit down, immediately grabbing the glass and downing it in one go.
“Thanks.”
“Give me your hand.” Calvin smiles, gesturing to my fucked up hand. It’s now twice the size that it should be. I really did go to town on that asshole.
Calvin diligently gets to work, applying some cream, making me wince. Instinctively, my hand yanks from his grip. “Stop being a baby,” he teases, pulling my hand back.
“Fuck you,” is all I say, making him shake his head with laughter.
“So, do you want to tell me what happened?”
As Calvin’s fixing my hand up and applying the bandages, I go into detail of what went down after receiving a phone call from Amy. When I’m done telling him, Calvin has finished and is handing me two white tablets. “For the pain and inflammation,” he answers my obvious frown.
Calvin knows the drill. He’s never had to take care of me like this after a fight, but still, he read up on all the shit of cornerman duties, and even took a first aid course so he could look after any cuts or swellings after a fight. Thankfully he’s never had to utilize them.
Until now.
I take the tablets, saying my thanks, and Calvin quickly gets up to fetch a bottle of water from the counter. “I’ll go give Amy a call and see if she’s okay. Stay here and cool down a bit.”
I nod, watching Calvin walking out the door, and then I take my tablets. I don’t hear anything for a few seconds and then voices carry from the living room to the kitchen. I have this urge to get up and see what’s going on, but another part of me—the biggest part—is cemented to my seat. I don’t think I’m ready for the words, “Barry’s dead,” just yet.
Scozzari: Deviant #3 Page 8
