Keep Coming Back to Love

by Christa Maurice

  “You little slut!” Candy was jerked out of Tyler’s arms, dragging him off the couch with her. “You’re as bad as your mother.”

  Tyler landed on the floor with a jarring thump, echoed by a sharp crack and a wail.

  Candy.

  He was on the floor and this tall guy had Candy dangling by her shoulders as he shook her. “Hey! Let her go,” Tyler shouted.

  The guy ignored him. “You’re nothing but a whore.” He dropped Candy on her feet in time to slap her again. The blow spun her into a nearby chair. The guy headed toward her.

  Tyler got his feet under him in time to grab the guy before he got to her. “Cut it out.”

  The guy turned. Candy looked more like her mother than her dad, but Tyler had seen that exact expression on her face when she was really pissed off. “You little punk. Fucking my daughter in my own house.”

  “We were sleeping!” Okay, so he wasn’t wearing a shirt, but otherwise both of them were completely dressed. Totally unlike how they were every afternoon between five thirty and six thirty. Good thing her old man never came home then.

  “Dad, stop! Nothing happened.”

  Her father took a step toward her and she cringed on the chair.

  “Hey, pick on somebody your own size.” Tyler clenched his fists. From the floor, her dad had looked like a giant, but they were about the same height and Tyler had spent the last month hauling wheelbarrows full of cement and bricks around.

  “You get out!” Candy’s father shouted.

  No way. Tyler couldn’t leave Candy like this. She looked terrified and it was his fault. Her dad had already slapped her pretty hard. As bad as Tyler’s dad was, he’d never taken a real swing at either him, Tiff or Mom. If her dad would hit her hard in front of a witness, what would he do when they were alone? “No.”

  “Did you just say no to me?” Her father roared.

  “Dad, please.” Candy stood up. She had a bright red mark on her cheek and a broken blood vessel in her eye was turning it red, too.

  “You didn’t have to hit her.” Tyler’s gut clenched. He had said “no” to Candy’s dad. This wasn’t the way he’d imagined meeting the man.

  “I’ll discipline my daughter how I see fit.”

  Tyler glanced at Candy. She was looking at the floor. About two months ago, she’d had a bruise on her shoulder. She said she got it at the store running into a clothing rack. Sometimes she had bruises on her arms, but she said she bumped into things. Why wouldn’t he believe that? Brian was the clumsiest person alive. He had bruises all over his arms and legs. Now Tyler had to wonder. They did seem to try not to be in the house together. Had he not been paying attention so much that he hadn’t noticed her dad was beating her? Some kind of shitty boyfriend he was. “No, you won’t. You can’t hit people.”

  “Tyler, leave it alone. It’s okay.” Candy’s voice shook. She held up her hands and they were shaking, too.

  “I’m gonna hit you, you little punk,” her father said over her.

  Tyler squared his shoulders. “Go ahead. Just don’t hit her.”

  “Tyler,” Candy whimpered. She was crying and her right eye was all red now making her look demonic. “Please, just go. I—”

  Her father whipped around to glare at her and she flinched, stumbling back into the chair.

  “I’m not leaving without her.” He licked his teeth. He’d never met Candy’s dad before but he’d known dozens of guys just like him. Guys who wouldn’t take on somebody who stood up to them, but what if he wasn’t one of those guys and didn’t back down? Well, working construction did have other benefits. “Candy, come on.”

  “But—”

  He sidled around her dad in the direction of the door and held out his hand to Candy. His car keys and wallet were on the side table so he grabbed them on the way. She climbed over the arm of the chair to stay as far away from her father as she could. Her hand slid into his. She’d made her choice.

  “If you leave this house, Candace, don’t expect to come back.”

  Candy looked up at Tyler, tears streaking her face. Then she huddled closer to him.

  “You little whore!” her father shouted from the front door as they walked down the driveway. “You really are your mother’s child. I have to wonder if you’re really mine.”

  Tyler got her into the car and drove a couple of blocks before he stopped. When he turned to face her, she wrapped herself in his arms as tightly as she could with the steering wheel in the way.

  “He was never like that before. I swear he wasn’t.” She sobbed. “We weren’t even doing anything. We were sleeping.”

  Never? The bruises really seemed suspicious now. She could have said something. “I’ll take care of you.” What now? She couldn’t go home with him and she didn’t seem to be up to telling him where any of her friends lived. She couldn’t sleep in his car. He needed to get her somewhere safe. Right now, if he knew where Joe lived, he’d take her there. Damn, when the chance finally came to save the day for her, he didn’t know how. “We’re gonna have to wake up Mr. Dale. He’ll know what to do.” On the way to Mr. Dale’s, Candy was silent. She kept her head on his shoulder as if she couldn’t stand to be out of contact with him.

  Mr. Dale’s house was dark. Tyler had to ring the doorbell four times before the porch light came on and he heard the latch.

  “What the hell?” Mr. Dale scowled at them. “Tyler, what happened to Candy?”

  “My dad did it.” Candy sobbed.

  Mr. Dale’s eyes hardened. “Come in. Let me get you a cup of coffee.”

  Once in the house, Tyler held onto Candy until her sobbing subsided again. Mr. Dale brought them cups of coffee and then sat down in the chair rubbing his face. “All right boy, what happened?”

  “I took Candy home and she invited me in to watch a movie. We fell asleep, Mr. Dale. I swear.”

  Mr. Dale glanced at the big blue bowl of condoms he kept on his dining room table then back at Tyler, still shirtless. “How did Candy get hurt?”

  “Her dad came home and found us. I swear we were just sleeping.”

  “So her father hit her?”

  “He yanked her off the couch and slapped her really hard and he was shaking her. I tried to make him stop.” He clenched his jaw against tears. Boys didn’t cry.

  Candy pressed her face into his shoulder and he tightened his grip on her. He was never letting her go. “He was never like that before,” she mumbled.

  “Candy, we’re here to help you.” Mr. Dale patted her arm. “Tyler, continue.”

  “He called her a bunch of bad names and hit her again, so I figured we needed to get out of there. I didn’t know where else to go.”

  “Why couldn’t you have taken her to your house?”

  Tyler shifted in his chair. “You didn’t meet my dad at my graduation party.”

  Mr. Dale nodded. “Enough said. Tyler, you are a good boy and I’m glad you felt you could come to me, but this is a matter for the police.”

  “No!” Candy jerked away. If Tyler hadn’t had such a tight hold on her she’d have fallen out of her chair. “Please, don’t arrest my dad. He doesn’t mean it.”

  “They never do. Your father is a dangerous man.”

  “He’s not.” She clawed into Tyler’s arm. “Please don’t let them arrest my dad. I just want to go home.”

  “I am not taking you back to that lunatic. He hit you and called you a slut. Even my dad never hit me.” Just threw stuff.

  “I agree with Tyler. Candy, you cannot go back to that environment. You are underage. I should call Child Protective Services.”

  Candy sobbed again.

  “Do you have to Mr. Dale?” Maybe coming here hadn’t been such a hot idea. CPS would stick her in foster care who knew where and he’d never see her again. “I have a job. I’ll get an apartment. I can take care of her.”

  “Tyler, you are nineteen years old and she is seventeen. It’s too late at night
to sort this out. We all need to get some sleep, but I can’t have a teenage girl in my house overnight unless I want to be fired from my job and then tarred and feathered in the middle of town.” Mr. Dale sighed. He took a drink from his coffee cup and set it aside. “I’ll wake up Eleanor Callisto and see if she’s got a spare bed.”

  * * * *

  Candy huddled at Mr. Dale’s table wearing Tessa’s jeans and Connie’s T-shirt. Maddy, the Goldman Group’s office manager, had accepted her excuse of food poisoning when she’d called off work, but Joe had been on the phone fifteen minutes later wanting to know why, if she had food poisoning, she wasn’t at her normal contact number. Then he insisted on coming to rehearsal tonight when she wouldn’t tell him where she was.

  Last night Mr. Dale had been on the phone with Mrs. Callisto for all of five minutes before he was bundling her into his car. Mrs. Callisto, Jason, and three of Jason’s sisters had met them at the door. They’d already made up the bed Jason’s oldest sister had left behind when she moved out six months ago. Brian hadn’t known about the chaos until Tyler got to work in the morning, but now he was hovering around her like a bodyguard. Tyler stood behind her at the kitchen table holding her hand. She felt like a husk watching Mr. Dale pour coffee for Mrs. Callisto and talk about normal stuff. What the band was doing over the summer. The weather. How her job was. As if there wasn’t a crisis holding hands at the table.

  Mr. Dale had moved the bowl of condoms off the table since Mrs. Callisto was there. Bear leaned on the kitchen counter flipping a quarter back and forth across his knuckles. Jason stood behind his mother’s chair, scowling. Brian leaned against the window running his hands through his hair as if that would help him get a grip on the situation.

  When the doorbell rang, Mrs. Callisto jumped. At least they remembered why they were there. Mr. Dale answered the door and Joe’s voice rang through the house demanding to know where Candy was. He stormed the room as if he wanted to throw her over his shoulder and carry her away.

  “Candy, what happened?” He pulled her out of her chair and inspected her face while glowering at Tyler. “Did he do this to you?”

  “No.” Candy jerked away from him and retreated to the safety of Tyler.

  “Then what happened? Why wouldn’t you tell me where you were today? What is going on?”

  “Joe, if you’ll just sit down.” Mr. Dale held out his hands.

  “I’m not sitting down until somebody tells me what’s going on.”

  “Her dad beat her up.” Jason’s jaw flexed.

  “Jason, hush,” Mrs. Callisto said.

  “Well, that explains a few things.” Joe sank into a chair. “I didn’t think you were that clumsy.”

  “Clumsy?” Mr. Dale stiffened. “This has happened before?”

  “No!” Candy cringed. “Not much.”

  “Did you know?” Jason shouted at Tyler. “How could you let her stay there when her dad was hurting her?”

  “Jason, stop it,” his mother snapped. “You’re not helping.”

  “Let’s just figure out what to do going forward.” Joe pressed his palms on the table. “You’re not going back to that house so where are you going to stay?”

  “She can stay with me as long as she likes.” Mrs. Callisto shook her short, graying hair off her face.

  “She’s got a year of high school and four years of college ahead of her. Are you prepared for that?” Joe asked.

  “I am.”

  “Are you sure?” Joe’s eyes narrowed to diamond points.

  “I know this girl better than you do, sir.”

  Candy admired the way Mrs. Callisto faced down Joe. Not many people would, especially when he went into ferocious mode. Mrs. Callisto should work for him. That way at least one person would be left standing in the conference room when he blew his top.

  “Good. Candy, are you all right with that?”

  There didn’t seem to be any other choice. Dad had said she couldn’t go home if she left. She needed her things, though. Clothes. Makeup. Books. Some pictures. “I have to go home and get my stuff.”

  “No.” Joe pulled his credit card out of his wallet and slapped it on the table.

  “What’s that for?” Candy asked.

  “You’re not going back to that house. Just buy new stuff.”

  “I don’t want new stuff. I want my stuff.” She clutched Tyler’s hand, peering up at him.

  “Candy, it’s not safe for you there.” Joe shoved the card closer to her.

  “Tyler will go with me.”

  Joe looked at Tyler and shook his head. “Not good enough.”

  “Then I’ll go too,” Brian said. “We’ll all go. It’ll make quick work.”

  Joe stared across the table at Jason. “And who’s going to keep that one under control?”

  “I’ll go along to oversee.” Mr. Dale turned to look at Joe. “We’ll go when we expect Candy’s father to be out.”

  Joe pursed his lips. “That’ll have to do. Next issue is emancipation.”

  “What’s that?” Tyler asked.

  “I’m not a slave,” Candy said at the same time.

  Joe leaned across the table, jabbing it with his index finger. “That man has legal rights over you until you turn eighteen, which you won’t for almost a year.”

  “Eleven months.”

  Tyler squeezed her hand.

  “Can we get back to the matter at hand?” Joe asked. “I can call my lawyer right now and have everything drawn up. Get a restraining order thrown on for good measure.”

  Candy’s stomach ground on itself. “My dad isn’t a bad guy. He doesn’t exactly keep me chained in the basement. Most days I don’t even see him. He only loses his temper once in a while and he kinda had a good reason this time. Don’t you think?” She looked at Mrs. Callisto. She was a parent. She’d understand what made Dad so mad.

  But Mrs. Callisto was already shaking her head. “No, sweetheart. There’s no excuse. I haven’t raised a hand to my children since they were out of diapers though God knows they’ve deserved it a time or two.” She shot a glare at Jason.

  “So it’s settled.” Joe stood the way he did when he finished a meeting at the office. “I’ll call Brad and have him file the emancipation paperwork. Sandy, you and the boys will go with Candy to get her things tomorrow afternoon, after work. Candy will stay with Mrs. Callisto until she’s ready to move out on her own.”

  Mr. Dale gave Tyler a firm look. “Don’t get any ideas about the two of you moving in together until she’s at least a sophomore in college. You’re both too young.”

  Tyler grumbled. Candy pressed the back of his hand to her lips. He’d suggested three or four times already that they move in together. It wasn’t a bad thought if they could afford it, but if Mr. Dale said no, there was no chance.

  The doorbell rang again and everybody jumped.

  “Who the hell?” Mr. Dale started for the door. Then he stopped. “Marc Wells. Forgot about him in all the excitement.”

  Mr. Dale let Marc in while everyone crowded into the living room to greet him. Candy hung back. She didn’t want to be meeting anyone looking like this. According to Mrs. Callisto, it was going to take a week for the redness to go away in her eye. The bruises on her cheek would take at least as long to disappear. She knew how to cover the bruises on her face with makeup, but the eye? How was she going to go to work like this?

  Marc held his guitar case to one side as he looked around the room. He was tall and lean, but a little more broad-shouldered than the other boys. He had presence and knew how to dress himself. “Wow, I didn’t realize I was meeting the whole extended family.”

  “We happened to have something else going on so there’s a few extra people here. You don’t mind playing for the whole bunch, do you?” Mr. Dale smiled.

  “Shit no, I play in front of bigger crowds than this all the time.” Marc grinned and started shaking hands. When he got to Joe he stopped. “What a
minute. I know you. You’re Joe Goldman of the Goldman Group.”

  “That I am.”

  “You guys said you had a publicist, but I didn’t realize.”

  “I don’t do the heavy lifting. The real work is done by Candy.” Joe reached back for her.

  Candy cringed. She’d been trying to hide in the background. What was Joe thinking pulling her up front looking like this? Brian turned to her and realization dawned on his face, but he smiled and put his arm over her shoulders to guide her forward. She plastered on a smile for Marc.

  He’d been smiling too, but that melted away. “Holy shit, darling. What happened to you?” Candy dropped her gaze to the floor, but Marc caught her chin so he could look at her bruises again. “Are you all right?”

  “This is my girlfriend. We’re taking care of it.” Tyler wrapped his arm around her shoulders pulling her away from Brian.

  Marc took a step back. “Yeah, okay. Are we gonna do this thing?”

  Tyler let everybody go downstairs ahead of them. “Are you okay?”

  Candy shrugged. “I want to go home.” Home. Where the hell was home now? Mr. Dale’s? Mrs. Callisto’s?

  He stroked her unbruised cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I can take you anywhere you want.”

  “Can you take me back to yesterday before all this happened?”

  “No because now that I know what was going on I wish you hadn’t been there ever. What do you want to do?”

  Wanted or needed to do? Running and hiding wasn’t an option. “We better go downstairs. They’ve all seen the damage.”

  He kissed her before guiding her to the basement. By the time they got there, everybody was in their places. Jason and Brian had glommed onto Marc like worshippers. Mrs. Callisto watched from the couch with a benevolent smile. Joe came over and took her hand.

  “Sorry. I somehow forgot you might not want to be shown off tonight.”