A Protector's Touch: A New Adult College Romance & Romantic Suspense Novel

by Parker Sinclair

  “This is going well,” I whisper to the trees. Despite always having an extra hair tie on my wrist, I am ill-prepared this fine morning.

  This is night, not morning.

  Okay, so maybe 4:00 a.m. is a little early, but the moon makes it bright enough for one to think dawn is breaking over the horizon. Using my fingers to twist and twirl my hair, I manage to tie it onto itself into a braided knot. Now to see if it’ll survive the bounce of my stride over the uneven ground.

  Before I can move back into action, the thunking echo of a car door slamming melds my shoes to the dirt. Hands to my jacket pockets, I slip my fingers into my kitty spikes of pain and focus my eyes all around me. The six-mile loop area merges into this path up ahead, and on the other side of that must me the road. What I had thought was the glow of the moon through the thicket to my right disappears in a blink. I swallow hard at the realization that it was a shine of a headlight and not the glowing beams of nighttime’s sun.

  Metal groans and shuffling follows. I crouch low, moving slowly to hide behind a trunk of a tree close to where the Houdini light had flickered away. A grumbling voice trickles spikes of pointy feet down each vertebra.

  It’s probably another runner, or maybe a hunter. You better get your booty back fast.

  I ignore her, me, and lean forward enough to spot a figure dipping in and out of the trunk of an old, large sedan. The glow of a light follows the cursing and then a sloshing hum. I spy two rectangular containers that the person places on the ground next to his car.

  Gas cans.

  I swallow, or at least try to, when the trunk closes with a thud and the beam of light hits the face of the suspicious person in the dark.

  Is that…

  It is. I’d remember that face anywhere. After poring over article after article on the Carp family tragedy, that face woke me more than once from a nightmare—John Carp, Shan’s dad.

  How? He’s dead.

  But I don’t wait to answer. Legs and arms pump harder than I ever thought possible as I bolt back to Nicole’s house. I ignore the pain in my chest and calves, driving ahead. I need to warn them, I need to save them, but I am also gambling here. What if my thought that he’s walking the rest of the way is wrong? What if he jumps in the car with those full cans of gas snuggled next to him in the front seat? I’ll never beat him.

  It makes the most sense that he’s walking. Just keep moving.

  My lungs burn, the cold air rushing in fast and hard. Maybe I should have tried to take him down alone, or as least brought my phone and called the police.

  No service out here, remember.

  I do. Shan and I realized that when we tried to open a star chart app last night. Pushing the doubt away, I focus instead on tearing apart that last half mile and saving the man I love and his family. Unraveling from its knot, my hair flies behind me, staying out of my eyes as if it knows the seriousness of this situation and to butt the hell out. My feet hit pavement as I exit the trail, and I take a quick peek behind me—no one yet.

  I pass houses in a blur, pushing off my toes as I take the hill to the house. It finally comes into view, and I nearly break down crying. I’ve made it. I beat him here. Now what?

  Move.

  Those last few steps seem to take forever as I lurch to the door, trying the knob first before remembering that I locked it behind me, The hide-a-key is around back, but I can’t waste time, so my mind clicks to raise my fist and bang like a crazy person on the door. Before I can make a sound upon the distressed wood, someone grabs me from behind, one hand in my hair and one over my mouth while I am pulled away from both my safety and my warning to the others.

  “You made me drop my cans when I heard you take off from the woods,” the masculine voice hisses in my ear. “You don’t know these trails like I do, missy. I caught up with you quick.” The suffocating heat from Shan’s father’s breath makes my head swim in disgust.

  I try to go limp, hoping I’ll catch John off guard and he’ll drop me, but he hangs on tight. I’ve managed to hide my other hand in my jacket pocket, forcing the metal from my knuckles to dig into my flesh with the tightness of my grip.

  “You think you can get away from me that easily? Sorry to break it to you, young lady, but you’re coming back this way nice and slow.” He’s dragging me, despite my back-kicks and thrashing limbs. “Now cut that out. I have ways to keep you still while I finish what I started years ago. But I’m guessing you know that already, don’t you? You’re my boy’s little whore now. I hope he’s gotten all of my messages.”

  The paint, the fire—it was him all along. A man back from the dead who has found his family in their new home away from the people in the town who failed them and, apparently, also failed to identify the remains. Perhaps those loyal to him took the truth to his grave. A racing mind moves my lips, and I mumble these truths through his hand, but John doesn’t loosen his hold. I kick and flail, but Shan’s dad is a sizable man, even bigger than his son and hell-bent on rage and revenge. It can’t end like this, not after everything Shan and his family have gone through and not after my escape from a potentially similar future.

  The training from self-defense class kicks into drive, and I prepare. This time, instead of dropping, I tip forward before pushing off the balls of my feet and jumping backwards. Along with that motion, I find a way to move my mouth enough to bare my teeth and bite down on his fingers. Mr. Carp stumbles enough for me to turn around, kitty in hand, and swing into the softness of his stomach. The pointed ears of pain dive into flesh like a spoon into thick yogurt while I use my other hand to crack up into his nose before I make a swift, stumbling retreat. I hit the ground more than once, forced to crab walk backward, the fear and adrenaline leaving my brain dead for a moment, but then I wake up and find my bearings just before I unleash a torturous wail.

  “Help! Shan, anyone. Help!” My screams echo in the hillside.

  Dogs begin to bark in an instant, their sharp howls into the night so haunting that even my attacker halts his progression. Blood drips from where one hand holds his nose while the other clutches his stomach.

  “You little bitch. You stabbed me. And I think you broke my nose.”

  “That’s right, you son of a bitch. Stay away from me and this family.”

  “It’s my family. Mine! And that whore in there is going to pay for taking it from me. She should be dead!”

  “Speak for yourself, Dad.”

  Like a whip, my head turns toward the sound of Shan’s voice. The cadence and promise of safety give me the push I need to flip over my body and will myself to stand. My feet slip on the gravel as I’m yanked back by my ankle. Carp senior has me again.

  “Let her go!”

  “Drop the gun first, son, and I will,” John sneers to Shan while using both hands now to force me toward him before turning me around to face Shan while in his clutches. This time the sight of the gun in undeniable. “You don’t want to kill your old man, do you? Not again, that is.”

  “Maybe this time it’ll stick.” A click of what I assume is the safety makes me jump. The gun is raised in our direction but aimed at his dad.

  He could miss.

  “Don’t accidentally hit this little beauty.”

  “Shan…” I cry. I don’t want him to kill anyone, but I don’t want his dad to go free either.

  Lights come on in the houses scattered about, but the lots are far-spreading, and I can’t tell if anyone is peering out of their windows. Shan’s mom or sister must have called the police by now, right? How long will it take them in this slow, little town of foothills and gardens?

  My eyes spy my kitty knuckles in the gravel and dirt a few feet away, but John has me in a tight hold, so close to his chest that the slow trickle of blood from his nose drips into my hair. Realizing I am looking around and readying to escape again, John wraps his fingers around my neck, squeezing one tick at a time. Air struggles to find its way to my lungs, and I imagine the raspy sounds of Nicole’s damaged windpipe voic
e that was created at the hands of the same man who holds my own.

  “You’re hurting her. Let her go, John.” Nicole’s voice is no longer in my imagination, instead coming to life on the porch next to her son. “Haven’t you done enough? When will it end?”

  “When you are dead, Nicole. This is all your fault. You and the boy. I’ll take you both this time. Oh, and this little doe for the fun of it.”

  Sirens sound in the distance, but his grip doesn’t weaken.

  “It’s over, John. The police are coming,” Shan warns, moving slowly off the porch.

  “Watch it. Don’t come any closer or I’ll snap her neck.”

  Shan freezes. I think he hopes John will make a run for it, but it seems like he’s planning to go down in a different blaze of glory and take me with him. Stars dance in my vision and a new darkness encroaches as the peaks of dawn flame to life.

  “Dad. Oh God, Dad, no.” Cara has joined her family, with eyes darting from her dad’s face to the grip he has around my neck. Her body begins to vibrate in what I can only guess is fear. “I thought you were dead.”

  My eyes flutter, closing so that I can’t see her any longer while a roar bubbling up in my ears takes away my ability to hear a response.

  Am I dying? I can’t breathe and none of my senses are working right.

  This can’t be how I will die. Twenty and at the hands of an abuser, when I stood against my own, and in front of the man I love.

  Noises manage to break into the rush of blood in my ears; they must be voices, and then I’m falling, my face hitting the hard gravel with nothing to stop my plight. A deep raking breath burns my lungs and scorches like alcohol has been set on fire in my throat. My eyelids grate as if sandpaper has taken their place. I slowly blink them open to see Shan’s gun on the ground and his feet come into view.

  “You made a smart choice. Now, sweetheart, bring the gun to Daddy.”

  God no, I thought it was over, but Shan has just given him what he wanted by dropping his gun.

  “By the barrel, not near the trigger, there you go,” he coaxes to Cara. “Hand it over.”

  Something takes over me, a force of nature or perhaps my other voice creating a more physical presence. Whatever it is, I sense my brass knuckles under my chest and slide my arm underneath my body to get ahold of them again. Shan’s eyes peer into mine where he’s crouched in front of me. He doesn’t try to stop me or help me up; instead, something silent and calculating passes between us. Even though my energy is surging, I mock weakness as I let Shan help me to my feet. John’s vicious laughter at the display only fuels me further.

  A blink, or a breath, maybe it’s just a twist of my feet on my toes that passes. Whatever it is, it’s fast, and in that flutter of time I lunge at John. I feign a dive at his stomach, knowing he’ll overreact at his injury and try to block me before piercing him in his shoulder. The man screams and thrashes about, but I manage to remove my weapon from a now overflowing wound and back away as Shan rushes in and tackles his dad to the ground. Hands grab my shoulders to pull me away, but I can’t leave Shan as he tries to pin his father to the ground.

  Cara tosses the gun away from the fight, the sounds of sirens and the strobe light of blue, white, and red flashing to life around us. Two cars pull up behind us, skidding to a halt, sending pebbles flying at us like a hailstorm.

  “Police! Everyone stay calm.” The female voice is stern but wary. “Move to the house, ladies. Keep your hands where we can see them.” The officer approaches us cautiously with her gun drawn but down. Her eyes focus on the blood dripping from my hands.

  “Help him,” I screech, pointing at the fight between father and son. “His father is trying to kill us.”

  Two more officers creep toward the bodies in battle with weapons drawn. “John Carp, sir, we know who you are, and we need you to stand down. Let’s not make things worse. Get up nice and slow with your hands on your head.”

  But John isn’t listening.

  Shan manages to get free, kicking his dad in the stomach before creating space to let the officers deal with his father.

  “We aren’t in your town anymore, Dad. You won’t get away with it this time.” Shan continues to back up, reaching behind for my hand.

  Once we touch, we move back toward his mom and sister, forming a united front. Stunned and beaten, but together.

  Shan’s father looks from us to the officers with a face like that of a mad dog’s, frightened and crazed.

  He’s not going to stop.

  With a howl, John dives for the gun Cara tossed away, but before he can grab ahold of the hammer, the officer next to us fires a shot, hitting Shan’s dad in the back of the leg.

  “That’s your only warning. Now get your hands on your head!”

  With a growl, John gets to his knees, hands following slowly while he turns his bloodied face to look at us. Rage shadows his face and a flicker of something I can’t place runs through the glaze of his eyes.

  “Hands, now!”

  John turns in a flash, charging after the two officers like a maddened wraith in the night. A haunting eruption of gunfire and dogs howling brings the nightmare to an end—for good this time.

  Epilogue

  A New Page

  ~

  This is what normal feels like. Hand in hand, walking across campus with warm sunshine on our faces instead of a constant tracking over our shoulders.

  We keep our slow pace with arms swinging. Shan and I have completed our finals, now officially finished with our second year. Now, summer approaches with internships and free time to spend with each other. Travel and living a normal life away from the stressors of our past will be our shared futures, ones we both look forward to as the school year comes to a close.

  Shan, now officially Shan Bends, joined his sister and mother in changing his last name to his mother’s maiden name. My boyfriend, officially since our just friends zone ended over the spring break we’ll never forget, made the decision in hopes of closing the door to a past he’d rather forget. Forget? Never. And to forgive? Impossible, but time and love can lessen the memory. Yet those painful parts of his past will be shoved aside, replaced by ones of caring, of loving me, and with a life lived without the evils of his past.

  The birds, now releasing their babies from the springtime nests to learn on their own, fill the campus with sounds. Only a few others walk around with us; the other students are either completing finals or at the end-of-year celebrations in town. Neither Shan nor I will be joining our friends and roommates; instead, we walk hand in hand, opting to explore one of the trails around campus while we prepare to meet our families for dinner in the city.

  “You don’t have to be nervous. I know my family will love you.” My smile is in tandem with a squeeze to his hand.

  “Oh, yeah?” he asks while coming to a stop and pulling me into his arms. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I love you. And because they know what you’ve done for me and that you have and will take care of me.”

  “Always,” he promises, and seals it with a kiss.

  We are surrounded by the sounds of summer. Chirps, rustles, and scurries fill the air with life. My life, Shan’s life, our lives, and we spend them together.

  “Always,” I repeat before we kiss again, holding each other in the freedom of a future of our own making.

  There’s nothing to trap us, and we have each other to protect our hearts from now on.

 

 

 
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