Protective Instincts

by Mary Marvella

  * * * *

  Tuesday night Brit drove to therapy group. Sam had offered to take her but she had to do this on her own. It had helped to talk with the other victims, to share her feelings without upsetting her friends with her fears. With effort, she managed to hide her paranoia from those close to her. The feeling of violation was hard to explain to anyone who had not experienced an attack, sexual or otherwise, in her own space, where she had always felt safe. It was hard to take.

  She'd signed up for the self-defense class the policewoman had recommended. The week had gone well and the weekend was upon them.

  There had been fewer hang-up phone calls. Each time she checked her new caller ID and reported the number and time of the call. She called a few back, pretending to get wrong numbers. Since the one obscene call, every call had become a cause for fear.

  * * * *

  Julie and Brit stood at the sink, washing breakfast dishes. They'd had a lazy Saturday morning meal like Brit's mother used to fix after a slumber party. Their routines offered comfort to Brit since the attack. She cooked suppers and often Sam dropped by. After meals, Julie washed dishes and Brit dried them. Julie made a good roommate since the attack and a great friend, but she wanted Brit to go out tonight.

  Brit dried and put away a cup. "No, thanks, Julie. I'll just hang around and clean house. But you go ahead."

  "Aw, Brit," Julie pleaded. "It's Saturday night and I can't go to Mustang Red's by myself. I'd look desperate going to a bar alone." She rubbed her nose with her forearm then fished a glass from the soapy water. "It'll do us both good to get out."

  "I don't think I'm ready for a night on the town."

  "This place is new, everyone says it's great. You'd love the Mustang memorabilia there. If I can't go with a date, I need to be with a friend, at least. Two women wouldn't look so much like they're on the make. It'll be better than sitting at home."

  Julie looked pitiful. "Please! Pretty please! How can you turn down your best friend in the whole world? Mr. Right could be there. It could be the only chance I'd have to meet him. But would you care if I miss my one chance for happiness? Huh? Huh? How could you refuse the person who kissed a frog for you?"

  Monster moved from the corner where he'd been basking in the light streaming in through the window. He nuzzled Brit, then Julie.

  Absentmindedly Brit rubbed his head. She narrowed her eyes at an unfazed Julie. "Con-artist. You said the frog might be a prince in disguise and you double-dog dared me."

  Monster pushed against her leg.

  She glanced down at him. "Not you. We know you're not a dog, you big baby." She looked back at Julie. "You only kissed the frog because I said darers go first."

  Julie dried her hands on a dishtowel.

  "I won't make you kiss any frogs tonight." Julie grinned her devilish grin, the one that made Brit forgive her anything. "It could've been a prince, you know. Some friend you are. Besides, you need to get out. You go to school, to self-defense classes, and group therapy." Julie touched Brit's hair.

  "You see Sam, and me, and the folks at school. You haven't been to the grocery store alone. Let's have a little fun. If you're uncomfortable, we'll come back."

  Brit stood facing her best friend in the whole world. She threw her hands up in defeat. "I give up! I'll go."

  Julie hugged Brit with an enthusiasm that was all Julie. She took Brit's hands in hers. "I'm going to my place to grab a few things. I'll be back in time to finish my laundry. Then we can take the baby for a walk before we leave him."

  Julie had been gone about an hour when the phone rang. Brit stared apprehensively at the instrument. Her new caller ID showed Sam's number. Relieved, she answered.

  "Hi, Sam."

  "Hi, yourself." His baritone voice made her feel warm inside.

  "So?"

  "So, I just wanted to tell you I'd be at my family's farm today. You have my mom's number if you need to reach me."

  "Sam, you don't need to check on me every day."

  "But I like hearing your voice, Teach."

  Brit was glad Sam couldn't see the flush heating her face. He said the sweetest things. "You don't need to check in with me."

  "How can I be your hero, if you can't find me when you need me?"

  "Sam, you always seem to know when I need you. Something tells me I wouldn't have to call you."

  "You and Julie have plans for today? You could come visit my family while I work."

  "Thanks for asking. Julie and I'll probably spend the day catching up. We'll take Monster for a walk." She didn't know why she hadn't mentioned Mustang Red's. She'd likely chicken out, anyway.

  "We'll, gotta go. Daddy and my brother Luke are expecting me."

  "Have a good day. Bye, now." Have a good day? Brilliant.

  By the time Julie returned, Brit wanted the quiet to end. Would she ever be comfortable alone in her own home again? The people in her group sessions said it took time. How much time? She couldn't believe that bastard had taken her security away. Now she was learning to protect herself. She'd get kick-ass strong and regain her confidence. She could do it! She'd dealt with her husband's death and she could deal with this.

  Julie had suggested taking her car to the club. She'd commented on Brit's white knuckled grip on her purse. She also noticed Brit's nervous blank stares.

  By seven, Julie's T-bird drove close enough for them to spot the newest joint in town. The parking lot had nearly filled and Brit was thankful for the distraction of the front of the place. The walkway to the front door led them past a restored, red Mustang. The sheen of its paint reflected the lights tenfold, as though it had been waxed that day. Someday Brit's Mustang would be the golden-bronze it had once been. Above the hood of that gleaming classic machine were the hooves of a magnificent white horse. Its marble body with thrashing hooves and flying mane and tail radiated energy, bringing to life the statue representing the wild and powerful namesake of the automobile.

  Julie studied the rapt face of her friend and grinned. "Wait 'til you see the inside of this place. Everyone who loves old Mustangs has raved about it. They say the owner isn't bad either."

  "That is a sight to behold," whispered Brit. "But wait 'til my car is ready. You haven't seen anything yet."

  The women walked away from the statues of the adversaries, machine and animal. A man of giant proportions greeted people at the door. Brit felt a second of hesitation at meeting a strange man, even in a public place. Though he was an imposing man, she sensed gentleness about him. His auburn hair and beard reflected golden-red highlights. His proprietary smile welcomed his guests.

  Brit watched as Julie blushed at the open admiration of the fine specimen of manhood. Knowing Julie, Brit was sure she had taken a mental measure of his impressive biceps, triceps, and any other 'ceps' visible in the form-fitting shirt and snug trousers. The sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows, displaying tanned forearms to tempt any sighted, breathing female.

  Julie's look of undisguised admiration traveled from the ruggedly handsome, tanned, face to the wide hand Red extended to her. She breathed, but barely, as she took that hand in hers. Brit almost burst out laughing as the two looked into each other's eyes and fairly melted on the spot.

  "Welcome to my establishment. I'm honored to have such lovely ladies here." He would have looked natural sweeping a cowboy hat in salute. "I'll see you inside soon. Drinks are on me."

  "Drinks on him sounds great to me. Anything at all on him sounds delicious," Julie whispered. A grin reached all the way to her eyes.

  "Down, pervert. Wipe the droll off your little chin. Something tells me you're going to embarrass me before this night is over." Brit laughed at her companion.

  The decor of Red's delighted Brit. Hanging on the wall by each booth hung a photograph of a Mustang automobile, one per year since 1964. The walls not lined with booths sported murals of Mustang herds, capturing their spirits. Barstools resembled bucket seats while booth seats looked like Mustang back seats.
Doors leading from the entrance to the bar proper looked like Mustang car doors.

  A small stage stood empty, but music and flashing lights from a jukebox lured people to donate their quarters. People danced on the small dance area in front of the stage. Welcoming talk and laughter filled the room.

  Here goes nothing. Brit took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She did it again for good measure. It's now or never.

  "You ready?" Julie poked her ribs.

  "As I'll ever be." She and Julie entered the crowded bar. The room smelled of new leather and cigarette smoke and testosterone.

  * * * *

  Sam wanted to relax for a few minutes. He'd stopped by to see the bar his old friend opened. Jesse had done all right for himself. Seeing Brit and Julie walk through the double doors made him swallow his drink the wrong way. Whose idea was it to come here? Teach looked scared to death.

  While he'd done chores at his parents' farm, he'd thought about the way he'd been drawn to the teacher since the first time he'd met her up close. Even before his premonitions had kicked up he'd thought about getting to know her better, but she'd seemed so unapproachable.

  All day, he'd helped his dad and brother repair fences and paint. He'd tried to work himself hard enough to forget how much Brit aroused him. The strain of wanting to approach her on a physical level, knowing how inappropriate that would be, strained his control.

  In the shower, after he'd worked up a good sweat this afternoon, he'd thought about her soft, red lips and pink tongue. His body betrayed him when he imagined kissing her. Even after he'd turned the shower to cold, his mind left him hot. As he ran his Saturday errands, he saw her face everywhere. And here she is now, in the flesh.

  In his mind she was in the flesh. He hadn't forgotten his view of her charms when he'd helped her to the bathroom after the attack. And now he sat in the shadows, watching Brit feel her way back into the real world. He needed to let her do this without his help.

  A body builder type, who introduced himself as Jack, stopped by Brit and Julie and ordered drinks. "Whatever these ladies want, okay?" he tossed an order over his shoulder to the bartender without taking his eyes from the ladies.

  "Phony," Sam muttered as he watched broad shoulders shake and heard deep, loud laughter. "Probably thinks he's a comedian. Wonder which one he plans to take home to bed."

  Sam watched Jessie approach Julie. They moved toward the dance area, leaving Brit alone.

  Steamed, Sam watched a lanky, red-haired man approach Brit. He could see her reluctance from across the small room.

  Brit smiled up at the baby faced young man, but after a few minutes, the guy left.

  Monumental effort kept Sam in his chair. Even across the room, he'd felt Brit's panic. She'd done well. Sam's neck itched again. He glanced around the room, but saw no one who resembled the man with whom he'd fought. Something was wrong. He just couldn't grasp what.

  He rose and strolled around the room. He didn't want to give himself away. Brit didn't need to think he was checking up on her. She was such an independent, stubborn woman. Since Julie and his buddy were so wrapped up in each other, Sam wanted to be aware of any problem, in case Teach needed him. He sensed she would, because that familiar pain gnawed at his gut. Not good.

  * * * *

  Brit sensed eyes boring into her back. She had that funny feeling that went with being watched. She glanced around the crowded room but saw no one who seemed to be staring at her. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a voice sounded by her ear.

  "Having fun?" Julie's voice signaled her return from her last dance.

  "Oh, yes, a real blast," Brit rolled her eyes. "Are you? You'd better be. You owe me for this one."

  "I'm about to, my friend, and I really do owe you if this works out." Julie beamed like Christmas lights the owner of the place approached her. "Wish me luck!" she murmured.

  After greeting Brit, Red looked at Julie, like a man planning to make a move. Neither Julie nor the man seemed aware of anyone else.

  Brit had started to order another drink, when a heavy hand landed on her shoulder. Just before she swung at the intruder, she whirled around to see George Wilson grinning at her. As Tommy's roommate and friend, he'd gone along on double dates. They'd taken him on picnics and played touch football with the gang at Mercer University in Macon. They stayed in touch, getting together for visits. George had held her when she'd lost Tommy. They'd been there for each other.

  Looking into George's kind blue eyes, Brit dismissed the unsettling feeling of danger and relaxed. It would be good to talk to someone about the times they had shared. She did love George.

  "Remember the time we --?" George laughed.

  "I remember your taking my husband-to-be and getting him bombed the night before our wedding. He had a headache when we said our vows," Brit shook her head at the memory. She brightened. "By the way, what are you doing in town?"

  "This is one of my new territories. I inherited several new accounts right here in town. I'll be coming through here about once a month to service 'em."

  "You'll have to let me know when you plan to be in town next time so I can have you over to supper. I'll cook lasagna and you can make your famous chocolate soufflé. Lord, but we put away some good meals together. You'll have to bring beer for you and Marge."

  "Marge'll be jealous I saw you first. I'll bring her after she gets over morning sickness. She doesn't travel now." George grew taller in his pride as he shared the news.

  Catching up on old times with George made her relax until she heard Sam's voice behind her. "Hi, Teach, how's it going?"

  "Hi, Sam." She tried to give him a genuine smile ... Damn. "Sam Samuels, meet my friend, George Wilson. George and I have been friends forever."

  Plenty of male protection from the palpable levels of testosterone, made Brit strain to keep her head up and eyes open.

  The room spun. She must have stumbled. Her vision cleared, but she was ready to drop. Sam's hand was on her elbow and George's expression showed concern.

  "You okay, Brit, honey?"

  She nodded. "Sam, I'm ready to go home, now, please. George, I'm in the book. Call me."

  She turned toward the bar doors and nearly ran. She needed air.

  Sam placed a gentle hand on her arm and escorted her to his truck. Once inside he pulled his mobile phone from his pocket and punched in a number. "Julie, I'm taking Brit home. I'll wait 'til you get there to leave. Have a good time with Jesse. He's a great guy."

  Sam disconnected his cell phone, then turned to Brit who stared at him. "So, what happened in there? You look awfully pale."

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I …," she hesitated. "I couldn't breathe. I felt like someone was watching me, willing something bad to happen to me." She hesitated, gnawing her bottom lip. "Crazy?" Her voice sounded small and frightened to her.

  She felt the roughness of Sam's fingers when he touched her face gently. He touched her cheek, then her nose. "You're asking that question of the man who gets weird premonitions? No, Teach, I felt something, too. That's why I was watching from across the room. I'd have noticed if anyone had made a move toward you." He stirred in his seat and glanced in the rear view mirror of the truck. "I had my own reactions. My premonitions were acting up."

  She nodded in understanding. "You think he was inside?"

  "I couldn't spot him but, yes, I think he might have been in the bar." Sam turned the keys in the truck's ignition. It came to life with a roar. "Still want to go home?"

  She nodded. "Please," she whispered. She clutched her hands in her lap for the drive. The silence surrounding them was palpable.

  When they arrived at her house, Sam pulled slowly to a stop. He reached across the seat to take her hands in his. Despite the warmth inside the truck, her hands felt like ice. She turned her head to look at him, hoping the fear wasn't stamped on her face.

  "Wait here 'til I get back," Sam instructed. "I just want to take a look around. Lock the doors."

&nb
sp; She clutched at his sleeve. "No, I'll come with you. I'm not staying in this truck alone." She slid up against him and followed him out on the driver's side.

  Before they were off the driveway, the security lights Sam had installed came on. The steps leading to her porch creaked with the weight of two people, Brit in the lead, with Sam closer than a shadow. At the front door, Sam reached around her to slide the mailbox aside to reveal an alarm board pad. The red light blinked.

  "No one set off the alarms."

  Brit wasn't sure she believed him. Alarms were going off in her head. If only she could let this man be close. If only she didn't need the security he offered. If only ....

  Sam unlocked Brit's door while she fumbled for her own key.

  Inside they sat on Brit's comfortable old sofa with Monster curled up at Sam's feet and waited for Julie's return.

  Brit fell asleep leaning against his shoulder while they watched an old Bob Hope movie. Pure exhaustion took her out.

  * * * *

  "Goddammit!" A lot of good listening to the teacher and her friend had done. Douglas'd watched and waited patiently at the bar. He had been so near her. He'd have spoken to her if her boyfriends hadn't moved in on her. I could've snatched her in the parking lot and killed her. It would still have looked like a sex killing.

  The parking lot was large and he could have used his van to take her away before anyone spotted him. By the time someone found her body dumped somewhere, he'd have been long gone. She attracted men like shit attracted flies. He might have to take the hero guy out before he got a chance at the teacher. She presented a real challenge. The man was a real nuisance.

  * * * *

  The week that followed passed quietly. With each day, Brit gained strength. She'd even stopped at the grocery store on the way home from school. It had felt good. She was gonna get past the fear.

  Julie had been so dependable and helpful, Brit insisted Julie accept an invitation to spend Saturday with Jesse James Stewart, the hunky owner of Mustang Red's. Jesse called Julie every night. The billing and cooing over the phone had made Brit grin.