The Crime of Protection

by Gloria Martin

  Gina laughed, “Not while he’s still inside of me.”

  “Good point.” Rafe kissed her deeply and then kissed the top of her belly. “I shouldn’t be too long tonight. You going to be up when I get home?”

  “Most likely,” she answered as she got up to walk to the door with him. “This little tyke is always up when you go running.”

  Rafe laughed. “That’s my boy.”

  *****

  Gina sat in the dining room with the patio door open. In the distance, she could hear the howls of the pack as they congregated in the woods a few miles outside of town. The cool night air was welcoming and the chirruping of the crickets soothing.

  Gina read aloud to herself and the baby from a book of Brother’s Grimm Fairy Tales. She had just finished reading Bremen Town Musicians when her baby began to kick and move around quite animatedly.

  Taking a deep breath, Gina placed the book on the dining room table and stood. He was always active on nights when the pack went for a run, but tonight he was especially excited. She headed to the kitchen to make herself a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows to appease her craving.

  As she sat back down in her chair, a sound from the living room caught Gina’s attention. She stretched her neck to look around the doorway, but couldn’t see anything.

  “Rafe?”

  There was no answer and so she picked up her book again as she sipped her hot chocolate. She flipped through the pages looking for the next story to read when she heard the distinct breaking of glass.

  “Hello?” Gina stood and headed over towards the kitchen as a shadow moved across the doorway. She quietly slid the utensil drawer open as she called out, “Who’s there?”

  A figured appeared in the living room doorway. It was Blake.

  She was dressed all in black, her tangled brown hair suggested she had been with the pack at the run, but had separated from them to come here. Gina felt the handle of a steak knife in her hand and held it steadily behind her back.

  “That mutt in you is an abomination,” Blake spat at her. “Rafe should have never gotten involved with you.”

  “Well that’s your opinion,” Gina responded, “and you’re certainly entitled to it, but it’s not going to change anything.”

  “True, but since he clearly can’t be reasoned with, there are other ways to remedy the situation.”

  Blake’s hand began to vibrate as she began to shift and claws extended out of her fingers. Gina gripped the knife in her hand and took a defensive position. Outside she heard a chorus of howls much closer to her house than was comfortable. She could not discern whom it was letting out the call and assumed from Blake’s lack of reaction that it was not anyone who was going to protect her.

  Letting out a growl, Blake stalked towards her and Gina positioned herself so that the kitchen island was between them. In her womb, she felt her baby fidgeting nervously as if he could sense the danger that he was in.

  Taking a breath, Gina calmed her nerves and told herself that she wasn’t defenseless. She may not be a werewolf, but she was not about to roll over for one either.

  Blake let out a yell and charged. As she leaped onto the top of the countertop between them she shifted completely into her wolf form.

  Gina held up her left arm as the wolf sprang at her and slashed out with the knife in her right hand as she felt the teeth sink into her arm. She fought on pure instinct as she felt the claws tear into her. Her passive ways had completely disappeared in that moment and all she felt was the need to kill Blake to protect herself and her child.

  A sudden crash through the patio door interrupted the fight and Gina turned in expectation of fighting off another assailant. Instead, the small group of wolves who had come through the door attacked Blake.

  Gina stood still as she processed what was happening. Among the tumble of fur and teeth she recognized the black tipped ears of Rafe in his wolf form. She felt the drop in her adrenaline and suddenly realized that she was slick with blood.

  Just as the nausea set in, she felt a pair of strong arms around her and Rafe’s voice in her ear. She couldn’t make out what he was saying, but as she looked down at herself she recognized the deep tears in her own body. Her breathing was shallow as the edges of her vision dimmed. She could barely feel the kicking of her baby as she closed her eyes.

  ***

  The beeping of machines greeted Gina when she opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was Rafe slumped over in a chair, his head resting on the bed next to her. After a moment she recognized that it was a hospital bed that she was laying in. The beeping machines she heard were hooked up to herself.

  As she tried to move, she woke up Rafe. He momentarily looked around the room as he tried to discern what was going on. When his eyes locked onto hers, he sprang up from the chair and his lips were upon hers.

  “Gina, I-I thought-” He fumbled as he tried to find the words to say.

  She ignored the aches of her body, glad to feel his arms around her. As his body pressed against hers, she noticed that there was something missing from herself. She breathed deeply and tried to speak. “Rafe…the baby.”

  He released her and just then the door of the room opened and Leila and a nurse walked in together. A smile lit up Leila’s face. “Oh, you’re awake.”

  In her arms she carried a small bundle of cloth. Beaming, she brought the bundle over to the couple and passed it off to Gina.

  Rafe kissed the top of her head. “Gina, meet our son.”

  The breath caught in her throat as she looked at the tiny face of her son, alive and well in her arms. She smiled as the tears streamed down her cheeks. Here they both were, strong and healthy.

  “I know we hadn’t quite decided on a name yet,” Rafe said. “We thought we’d wait for you to wake up.”

  Gina kissed her son’s forehead. “Aiden.”

  THE END

  Bonus Story 4/40

  Protected by My Hero

  He is coming.

  I am huddled behind the largest tree I can find. I’m shivering though I know it’s not from the cold. As I crouch down as near to the ground as I can get, I see puffs of white breath float on the air in front of me. A sudden fear comes over me. It’s a strange and irrational fear, but a fear nonetheless. What if he can see my breath? What if these little puffs of air are giving me away?

  I put my hand over my mouth to keep myself from breathing. Keep myself from screaming.

  I can hear his breathing. It is dark and heavy and, though he is not near enough to me now, I know that it smells rancid.

  I didn’t mean for it to happen. No one believes me when I say that, not even my dad, but it’s the truth. I didn’t mean to fall in love with my stepbrother.

  It’s true, I’d always thought he was hot. Ever since I met him when I was only thirteen. He was a tall, well-muscled sixteen-year-old who played football. Mike had dark hair that occasionally flopped into his bright blue eyes and a smile that could melt your heart. I don’t think there was a thirteen-year-old girl alive who wouldn’t have developed a little crush on him.

  But, when my Dad married Mike’s Mom a year later, it became clear that he intended to treat me as nothing more than a little sister. He taught me how to throw a football, gave me advice on boys and even introduced me as his little stepsister to his friends while fondly ruffling my hair.

  So, that’s all I thought I’d ever be. As time went by, I grew out of my chubby awkward phase, and came to appreciate my curves and wear them well. Mike grew up too and became a Navy SEAL. I slowly put my thoughts about us ever being together aside.

  But, that all changed when I got the package.

  It came for me when both Mike and I were home for Thanksgiving.

  We’d just sat down to a huge turkey dinner made by Mike’s mom when the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” my dad said. He stopped at the front door and I followed Mike and Linda, my step mom into the kitchen. He was gone less than two minutes before joining u
s in the kitchen.

  “Sabrina, there’s a package for you,” he said, “I put it on the table in the entry hall

  “Who delivers on Thanksgiving?” I asked, feeling more than a bit curious.

  “I don’t know,” Dad said, “there was no one there when I opened the door. Just a package sitting on the front step.”

  “I’ll go take a look at it,” I said standing from the table.

  “Sabrina, don’t you think it can wait until after dinner,” Linda said with a hint of impatience. I was too curious to wait. I hadn’t received a package at my dad’s house since I’d lived there in high school.

  “I’ll be right back, I promise,” I said. And, with that, I moved quickly to the entrance way.

  Just as dad had promised, the package lay on the small end table by the front door. It was covered in plain brown paper. The wrapping was neat, almost immaculate.

  A feeling of intense unease came over me as I cautiously picked it up.

  My name: Sabrina Bellsmith was indeed written in sharp bold letters on the outside of the package just above my parents’ address.

  I looked to the right-hand corner, but there was no return address and no indication of who might have sent it.

  Taking the package in hand, I stepped back inside, closing the door behind me.

  With my heart pounding in my chest, I decided it was best to open it here rather than at the dinner table.

  Cautiously, I picked the package up and ripped it open. Inside was a small, plain wooden box. My name was, again, written in bold letters on the top.

  When I opened this box, my heart caught in my throat.

  I was looking at over fifty pictures of myself. But, they were not pictures I remembered having taken nor were they pictures I wanted to have taken.

  They were pictures of me on my way to school in Manhattan, pictures of me on the subway, taken through the window of restaurants where I was eating dinner. I flipped through all of them with a growing amount of dread. When I finally reached the last one, I felt my entire body froze.

  It was a picture of me in my bedroom completely naked. There was a piece of paper underneath this last picture but, I didn’t dare look at it.

  Instead, I let out a loud gasp and dropped the box. This sent my Dad rushing from the table to me, immediately followed by Mike and my stepmother, Linda.

  “Sweetheart, what is it?” Dad asked, immediately putting his arm around me. I found that I could do nothing but point with a shaking finger to the package I had received.

  To my surprise, it was Mike who boldly stepped forward and picked up the box while Dad kept his arm firmly around my shoulders and Linda lingered in the background.

  I watched as Mike flipped through the pictures an increasing amount of shock and something like rage darkening his face with each one. When he finally reached the last one, the one that made me drop the box, his face colored for one moment with something other than rage. It looked as though he was blushing. A moment later, I saw his free hand curl into a fist, anger once again present.

  “Sabrina,” he said with a quiet growl that I knew spelled danger for someone, “do you have any idea who took these?”

  He looked up at me sharply as I shook my head ‘no’. Then I remembered…

  “There’s a note,” I told him shakily, “at the bottom of the box. I didn’t read it.”

  Immediately, Mike bent towards the box still on the ground and picked up the note.

  As he read it, his face turned from red to pale as the blood seemed to drain out of him. It was a look I had never seen my stepbrother wear.

  “Mike?” Linda asked stepping forward hesitantly. “What does it say.”

  Mike didn’t answer but silently handed the note to his mother before turning away from all of us and running one hand over his face.

  Linda looked at the note and read aloud:

  “Tell your brother I said ‘hi’. It’s signed J,” she said.

  “Mike?” Dad asked, his arm still clutched protectively around me, “do you know someone that would do this?”

  It was a long, silent moment before Mike turned to face us.

  “Yeah,” he answered finally, “I think I do.”

  *****

  We sat back at the table, the front door firmly locked behind us, intermittently nibbling at our turkey. Mike told us about the mysterious ‘J’.

  His name was James McBride. Mike had testified at his trial three years earlier. James had been a fellow SEAL. According to Mike, he’d always had a temper and a certain contempt for women. One night at a bar, James had begged for Mike’s help with a woman he’d raped and nearly choked to death. Mike had agreed to drive the woman to the hospital and stayed to make sure that she was taken care of.

  In the morning despite protest, begging and even threats from James, Mike reported the incident to his superior officers.

  “But, I thought he’d been put away,” Linda said, “I thought he’d been convicted.”

  “He was,” Mike said, “he only got a year and probation.”

  “Wait,” I said slowly abandoning the now cold mashed potatoes on my plate, “why is this the first time I’m hearing about any of this?”

  Dad and Mike shared a cautious look across the table before Dad turned to me and said:

  “I asked Mike if we should talk to you about it,” he said, “but Mike said he didn’t want to worry you.”

  “Why would I have been worried then?” I asked. The idea that my stepbrother was testifying in a major trial would have excited me more than anything else. Indeed, as the story was told, I couldn’t help but feel proud of Mike for doing what was right. Even now that I knew what had come of it.

  “Well,” Dad continued with another cautious look at Mike, “you’d just started college and you had a lot going on…” Dad trailed off. I could tell there was something he wasn’t telling me.

  I looked to Mike who glanced at me then raised an eyebrow at my dad as though he was encouraging him to continue.

  “Also, this guy, McBride he...he made some...threats,” Dad said slowly.

  “I thought he was bluffing,” Mike interjected, “James was always talking shit. I thought he was full of it.”

  “Threats about me?” I asked, surprised that any of Mike’s Navy SEAL buddies would even know I existed.

  “Not directly,” Mike said. “He just said I had some pretty girls in my life and I should make sure to look after them.”

  My heart started pounding in my chest. But, it was not only fear that made it beat a quick rhythm this time. It was also anger mixed with frustration. This guy, this stalker, had been a possible threat for over a year? I’d been walking around Manhattan, to my apartment in Brooklyn sometimes at night and the entire time, I’d been completely unaware that someone could be following me.

  “So, let me get this straight,” I said fiercely. “This guy makes a threat about ‘women in your life’ and you don’t even think to tell me about it?”

  “Honey, we did talk about it,” Dad said, but I ignored him and looked straight at Mike. That, I knew was where my anger should be directed.

  “Sabrina,” he said plaintively, “I told you, I was sure he was bluffing.”

  “How about now?” I spat back.

  Something in my mind told me that I should lay off. Looking at Mike who was running another hand over his face, I could tell that he was beating himself up over this more than I ever could. But, somehow, I couldn’t let it go.

  Beyond the rage of not being told, of being treated like a child was a niggling fear that when James McBride had spoken about ‘women’, Mike didn’t think he meant me.

  The fear that I was not a woman to Mike and I never would be. Just a little stepsister.

  “We should call the police,” Linda said finally after a tense pause. “They should know that someone is out there-”

  “They won’t be able to do anything,” Mike cut in.

  “What do you mean they won’t be able to do
anything?” Dad asked. “They’re police! This is what they do.”

  Mike simply shook his head.

  “McBride is stalking Sabrina in New York,” he said. “The police here have no jurisdiction in New York. The most they can do is call ‘Brina’s precinct in and give them a heads up but, even then, there’s not going to be much follow through on it.”

  “Why wouldn’t there be follow through?” I asked still annoyed, “A crazy man is stalking me! That’s got to get someone’s attention!”

  “But, there was no direct threat made,” Mike said plaintively, “they would probably just request that you get a restraining order but, that won’t do shit.”

  “Mike!” Linda said with a gasp. She did not approve of swearing around the table.

  “Sorry Mom,” Mike muttered.

  “So, what am I supposed to do now?” I asked. Trepidation was starting to mix with my feelings of anger towards Mike. The idea that I would be followed, photographed and, maybe, worse when I got back to my tiny apartment in Manhattan made me want to hide in my bedroom at my parent’s house and never come out again.

  “Honey, maybe you should stay here for a while,” Dad said, “just until this blows over.”

  “I can’t do that, Dad,” I said. Even though I did have the childish urge to hide in my bedroom, I knew how very impractical that urge was, “It’s my senior year, and I’ve got finals to take when I get back. I can’t afford to miss any of them.”

  “Sabrina, we know how important school is to you,” Linda said gently, “but, it’s not worth risking your life.”

  “All the guy’s done so far is take pictures,” I said sounding much braver than I felt, “besides, I’ll only be there for a few weeks before I come back for Christmas break.”

  “And he probably knows that,” Mike said, “that gives him a window if he wants to do anything else.”

  I looked around the table feeling trapped. I felt tears bristle behind my eyes as I thought about how hard I had worked to get my degree. I was one semester from graduating and now some asshole from Mike’s past was going to take it all away from me.