Saving Toby

by Suzanne McKenna Link

  “You going to make me?” Dev’s face warped into a sinister mask as he leaned closer, just inches from Toby. “'Cause, I’d really like to see you fucking try.”

  Time froze for me. This was not like two boys fighting in the schoolyard. No teacher would come and break it up, and they both appeared fierce enough to do some real damage to each other.

  “Come on, tough guy.” Devlin shoved Toby with open hands. Toby stumbled back, but quickly regained his balance and swung a balled fist. We all heard the crack as it connected with Devlin’s jaw. A group nearby jeered in excitement, egging the guys to keep fighting. Devlin, bent over, wiped his bloodied mouth. He appeared shocked for a moment before an even darker expression slid over his face. Before he could fully recover, though, Toby had him by the back of the neck and put him in a headlock.

  A crowd instantly formed in a circle around us. Alarmed, I grabbed April’s arm. Devlin thrashed about trying to break free, but Toby didn’t let him loose. His strength was frightening.

  “Come on, you—” Through gritted teeth, Devlin rattled off a string of vicious curses.

  Toby twisted back hard, and we all watched as he flung Devlin away. The momentum carried the mammoth guy into the pool several feet away. He hit the water with a loud splash. Cheers and whistles erupted from the party crowd.

  Devlin came up sputtering.

  “You’re going to be fucking sorry for this, motherfucker!” Devlin hoisted himself out of the pool. Dripping wet, he spit onto the brick patio and eyed Toby, the menacing look unmistakable, before he pushed roughly through the crowd. People applauded his exit.

  Toby stood there, his tall form still tense and ready to spring as he watched Devlin leave. It wasn’t until then I realized Dario Manolo, April’s longtime boyfriend, was standing with us. With a grim face, Dario pulled April and me to his side. At five-foot-eight, he was several inches shorter than Toby and not quite as muscular, but Dario, who was more likely to elicit laughs than start a fight, looked after me like a brother. Normally it was very hard to ruffle April’s stylish main squeeze—it might have been the first time I’d seen his dark handsome features marred with such an angry scowl.

  “Did that baboon touch you girls?” Dario asked, giving us the once over.

  “As if I’d let him,” April replied with a snort.

  I shook my head, but my eyes were on Toby. With Devlin gone, the anger left him, and his whole demeanor transformed to one of concern.

  “You didn’t drink anything he gave you, did you?”

  “No, I didn’t.” I pulled away from Dario. “What did you mean by ‘that’s only the beginning?’”

  Toby looked troubled as April and Dario exchanged knowing looks. I felt like a small child, out of the adult conversation.

  “Toby, take Claudia and go sit down over there.” April pointed towards a few chairs off the patio. “Dario and I will get drinks.”

  Before they walked away, April leaned into Toby and kissed his cheek.

  “Always one to make quite the entrance.”

  10. Claudia

  April and Dario went into the Ryans’ house to get drinks, and the crowded circle of people loosened. A few guys slapped Toby’s back, congratulating him on the fight, before they moved away.

  Toby twisted his head from side to side stretching the muscles in his neck.

  We sat in the chairs April had suggested, and I faced off with him.

  “Are you going to tell me what that was all about?”

  He leaned forward in his seat putting his head in his hands and rubbed his forehead. “I’m pretty sure he spiked your drink.”

  “Once I tasted it, I would have known right away.”

  “I’m not talking about alcohol.”

  “You mean…” My chest felt tight. “Oh, no. That can’t be right.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “No, it’s just … I don’t understand,” I stammered. “Why would he do that?”

  “Would you have gone somewhere to be alone with him tonight?”

  “No, of course not.” I shook my head vehemently.

  “That’s why. He knew he didn’t have a chance with you. He’s been talking about you since he saw you at my house. All he had to do is be nice enough so you’d accept a drink from him. After that, he would wait a little while then take you somewhere.”

  He didn’t need to say more.

  Nauseated, I covered my face for a moment.

  “I was totally unsuspecting,” I groused. “Really, quite the perfect victim. My father would have a canary if he knew.”

  “There are lots of screwed up guys out there,” he went on. “You shouldn’t take drinks from people you don’t know and never let your drink leave your sight.”

  A father-like speech, but I was grateful.

  I nudged his shoulder and said, “Thank you. I really appreciate that you were looking out for me.”

  “Sure.”

  I felt a chill tingle up my arms and remembered I’d left my sweater in April’s car.

  “Cold?”

  “Probably just nerves, but yes, a little.” I nodded. He took off his black zip-up sweatshirt and put it over my shoulders. The sweatshirt, still warm from his body heat, smelled musky with his cologne.

  “Thanks.”

  “Let me just grab my cigarettes.” He hesitated before reaching over and putting his hand in the pocket. I felt his hand at my rib cage. I held my breath as he pulled out the pack.

  “I didn’t know you smoked.”

  “I don’t smoke in the house, around Julia.” He shook the pack and pulled one out. “Want one?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t smoke.”

  Strobe lights came on, and the music pumped up. A sizeable crowd was dancing when Dario and April came back with our drinks. They were laughing as they offered us beer and water. Holding the unlit cigarette in his mouth, Toby took the bottled water from Dario, twisted the top off, and handed it me.

  April touched my shoulder. “You okay, chica?”

  I nodded. “I’m fine.”

  “The band is amazing.” April moved her hips, swaying to the beat. “We need to dance. It’ll put us in a better mood.”

  Dario held out his hand to her. “I’m ready, mama. Let’s boogie.”

  April took his hand and waved to us. “Come on, Toby. Claudia loves to dance.”

  Toby didn’t move. “I make it a habit to never dance in public. It’s not pretty,” he said and turned to me. “But you go. I’m okay by myself.”

  I pushed back into my chair. “No, I’m not in the mood.”

  April made a pouty face at me before following Dario into the crowd near the band. I watched as they started grinding along with other dancers. They were a well-matched couple.

  “So did you fight with your friend because of me or is something else going on?”

  He lit his cigarette. “What do you mean ‘something else’? Isn’t trying to drug you enough of a reason to kick someone’s ass?”

  “But I thought he was your friend. A friend would have tried to talk to him.”

  He held the cigarette at an angle, watching it burn, and shrugged.

  “There’s no talking to Devlin Van Sloot. He’s fucked up. Does what he wants. I just realized I’ve had enough of it. I’m out.”

  “But this isn’t just about what happened tonight, is it?” I paused then and looked at him. “I know he was also brought in for questioning on the assault, like you were.”

  A look of surprise came over his face and, just as quickly, disappeared.

  “Should have figured you’d know what happened since your father is a cop. I was only questioned, not charged.”

  I nodded, wanting him to continue. “What happened that night?”

  For a long moment, he just smoked his cigarette. Finally shifting in his seat, he said, “Not much. Some Hispanic guy we talked to was found stabbed later that night.”

  “No one has been charged?”

  “Guess t
here’s not enough evidence.”

  He was too nonchalant. “You know something, don’t you?” I asked.

  Tossing his cigarette down to the ground, he stomped on it. “Can we just drop it? I don’t want to talk about it.” He gulped down the rest of his beer and stashed the bottle under his chair.

  I persisted, “It’s your moral obligation to tell if you do.”

  “My ‘moral obligation’?” Toby laughed. “You make me feel like I’m on trial. Are you studying criminal justice or something?”

  “No. Gerontology.”

  “Doesn’t that have something to do with old people?”

  “I’m surprised you know that.”

  He raised an eyebrow at me. “I’m a lot smarter than I look.”

  “I didn’t,” I started to say and changed my mind. “Yes, I’ll be working with the elderly.”

  “Poor old folks. I can see you cracking the whip, making them do a dozen laps with their walkers before you’ll allow them to sit and play Bingo.”

  I sat forward and looked away from him. “You don’t have to be mean.”

  Smiling ruefully at me, he touched my knee. “Sorry. The whole police thing is a sore subject and, well, you’re just … so intense.” His fingers were warm on my bare skin.

  I tried not to appear offended by the casual, familiar contact. “My father believes the attack was racially provoked.” I shifted purposefully, and his hand fell away. “People of all skin color and nationality deserve justice.”

  “Jesus. This has nothing to do with anyone’s skin color. I don’t judge people like that.” Clearly annoyed that I continued to bother him about the subject, he stirred in his seat impatiently. “You think I had something to do with the stabbing, don’t you?”

  “No!” I answered quickly. “Not at all.”

  He tilted towards me. “I’m glad you think so, but how can you be sure? You did just see me fighting with someone.”

  He was daring me to believe him. I studied his face for a moment and became conscious that unlike a few weeks ago, I was not afraid of him.

  “Tonight was different. You were protecting me. I don’t think you’d hurt someone just for the sport,” I concluded. “But after what you’ve told me, it doesn’t seem like such a stretch for Devlin to have pointlessly hurt someone.”

  Leaning back in his chair, he shrugged. “Maybe, but, you don’t really know him. Or me, for that matter.”

  “I have eyes. I see how you are with your mother,” I replied. “And besides, April thinks you’re a decent guy.”

  His interest peaked. “You guys were talking about me?”

  “Don’t let it go to your head. The conversation was very brief,” I replied coolly, despite the flush that rose in my cheeks. “I trust her judgment.”

  “Now that’s a girl with mighty fine judgment,” he drawled in a mocking voice and then winked at me.

  Thankfully, Dario and April made their way back to us before more could be said. With a mischievous grin, April collapsed into the chair next to me and grabbed my hand.

  “April, don’t do it.” I knew the look on her face, knew the teasing that was coming.

  Ignoring me, April said, “What do you think of my little chica, here, Toby? She’s going to make a really terrific girlfriend for the right guy.” She smiled at him. “Do you know anyone we can fix her up with?”

  “I might know a decent guy for her,” he replied.

  April elbowed me. I gritted my teeth.

  “Lots of prospects here tonight,” Dario winked at me. “The fight brought you a lot of attention. Everyone is talking about you.”

  I cringed. My crankiness from earlier was returning. “I want to go home.”

  “No! We just got here,” April huffed.

  “April, I don’t want to be here anymore. I’ll be a drag the rest of the night.”

  “Oh, mamí,” she hugged me. “Just hang out a little more, and if you really want to go, I’ll take you home.”

  Toby checked his watch and rolled to his feet. “I’ll take you. I have to get going anyway.” His keys jingled as he pulled them from his pocket. “My aunt is with Julia, and I told her I wouldn’t be too late.”

  I nodded, grateful for a way out.

  Toby hugged April and casually shook Dario’s hand.

  As we walked away, Dario called out, “Don’t be such a stranger, man. Call me.”

  I quietly followed Toby to his Jeep, but as soon as I saw what big tires it had, I realized it would be difficult for me to get up into it.

  “Oh!” I gasped as, without asking, Toby pinned me to his side and my feet left the ground. He lifted me into the door-less passenger side and gently dropped me into the bucket seat. With my pulse racing, he leaned over me and secured my safety buckle. I was too intimidated to say anything.

  He tested the strap with a tug and leaned back. His blue-grey eyes caught me staring at him.

  “Your hair looks really nice tonight,” he murmured, reaching up to touch a loose strand.

  “Thank you,” I said, hoping he didn’t catch the hitch in my voice.

  Toby considered his Jeep for a moment. The top was down, and the vehicle open to the night. “The ride will probably mess it up.”

  I wasn’t deterred. “After almost being drugged and watching a fist fight up close, what’s a little wind in my hair?”

  He didn’t miss the hard edge to my comment. He put a hand over mine. “You’re safe with me, okay?”

  His words were protective, like my father’s, but the vibe coming from him was most definitely not paternal. It took a moment before I could answer, but smiling meekly, I nodded.

  “Yes, okay.”

  Toby drove fast, shifting gears manually with skill. I wasn’t afraid. In fact, with the cool night air blowing in our faces, the ride was exhilarating. We both laughed as my hair blew up and whirled around my head. It felt silly, but for the moment, I didn’t mind. He took the turns quickly, each time reaching over to hold my arm and keep me in my seat.

  He pulled up to the curb in front of my house and cut the engine. And then he looked at me. “Can you hang for a few minutes?”

  “I thought you had to get home.” I felt uneasiness flutter inside my chest.

  “Nah, I wanted to get out of there, too,” he said.

  I tried to settle myself. “Alright, but just for a few minutes.”

  As he reached towards the stereo to turn on some rock music, the sleeve of his tee shirt slid up revealing the edge of a tattoo design on his upper arm.

  “You have a tattoo,” I said, more as an observation than opinion. He nodded, and, before I knew what he was doing, he whipped off his tee shirt. My mouth hung open loosely at the sight of his bare torso.

  “See.” He presented his shoulder to me. “I’m actually a cyborg robot.”

  I heard the words, but all I really noticed was that he had great shoulders. While his skin looked smooth, the breadth of him was a multitude of carved dips and peaks—mountain ranges of tight muscle. Heat seemed to radiate from his bare skin, warming my face. I tried to ignore how confined it suddenly felt in the car and concentrate on what looked like a realistic looking metal plate with rivets carved in to his upper arm and extending onto his shoulder. The art made it look as though his skin was peeling away, revealing metal just beneath the surface.

  I studied it, secretly wanting to touch it, but I kept my hands in my lap.

  “Did it hurt?”

  “Cried like a baby.”

  “Really?”

  He laughed. “Do you really think I would tell you that?”

  “No, I don’t.” I laughed at myself.

  “It wasn’t too bad. Thinking of getting one?” He put his shirt back on, and I was relieved.

  “I could never. My father would disown me if I ever came home with a tattoo.”

  “Do you do everything your dad tells you to?”

  “My dad has lots of expectations,” I said. “I’m trying to figure out which ones
are worth challenging. Tattoos are not so important.”

  “Hang out with me. That’ll be a challenge,” he smiled.

  I chuckled. “Oh, yes. You and I hanging out, that would not go over well. I could just see his face.” Catching myself, I covered my mouth. “I’m sorry, that sounds terrible. It’s just that in his line of work, he assesses people quickly.”

  “You don’t have to explain. I understand.” He sighed and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. I could tell it bothered him more than he let on.

  Looking to change the subject straight away, I asked him about what musical groups he listened to, but as we chatted about our likes, it became obvious that there was nothing remotely similar in our tastes.

  He leaned back against the seat, and he rolled his head to look at me. “Did you know I had a wicked crush on you years ago?”

  “Oh, boy,” I sighed loudly. “I wondered if this would come up.”

  “I was that obvious, huh?”

  “Ah, yeah. You drew that picture for me in Mrs. Richard’s second grade class.”

  “Guess I should probably remember since I repeated that grade, but I don’t.”

  “Then let me refresh your memory,” I proposed. “Remember ‘Star of the Week’? Whoever was the star got their name up on the bulletin board and everyone had to draw a picture of themselves interacting with the ‘Star’ student. When it was my week, you got up in front of the class with your drawing of us holding hands and proceeded to tell everyone that it was us getting married.”

  “I did?” He put a hand to his chest and laughed loudly. It was such a hearty laugh that I giggled, too. “Wow, I didn’t know I was such a young Romeo.”

  “Yeah, but having a boy say something like that in second grade—jeez, seriously scandalous. Second grade girls are merciless. I was totally embarrassed over it,” I shook my head remembering. “I cried because I thought it meant I had to marry you. But when I got home, my mother said I didn’t have to.”

  “Dodged a bullet,” he grinned. “Do you still have the drawing?”

  “Nope. When I got home that day, I tore it up.”

  “Ouch. You obliterated my marriage proposal! Way to hurt a guy.” He feigned an expression of pain that had me giggling again.