Rhythm Tunes

Protecc

I limped down the street, heading back to my apartment. I'd been out at a venue, playing music. Trying to get my singing career up off the ground, and playing there, would no doubt have helped me. I was a bit famous, having bested my partner's parents in a song battle. They'd been famous themselves, and news spread fast that they'd been out sung by an up-and-coming singer.

They were pissed about it, and did everything they could to make my life hell for the beating I'd given them. To add to the trouble, I was also dating their beloved, and only, child. They wanted me gone, and they'd do anything to get rid of me. It wouldn't have surprised me if what happened had been caused by them.

On my way home, I had been jumped by a gang of older teenagers. There had been five of them in total. A gang if I had to guess. The city was known for the thugs that gave everyone a hard time. The group had cornered me, cutting off any escape. I was an easy target, and by the time they were finished, they had done a number on me.

My right eye was swelled up, and there was a nasty bruise under my left eye. I held my left arm against my chest, unable to move it. I didn't know if it was broken, or just too sore to do anything with. My rib cage screamed at me, and I was convinced I had a broken rib or two. My right leg throbbed, having been hit with a metal bat like my arm and ribs. Walking was painful, but I pressed on.

As I made my way home, I looked around to make sure no one else was coming to get me. In my hurt state, I was an easy target for anybody who meant harm. I didn't need more trouble. I just wanted to get home and deal with my injures.

The apartment building came into view, and I sighed in relief. Walking to my room, I pushed the door open as quietly as I could. Peeking in, I looked around for my boyfriend.

I didn't see him sitting on the couch, or anywhere in the living room, causing me to let out a quiet sigh of relief. If luck was on my side, he would be out, and I could sneak by and take are of my wounds before he noticed. Of course, I knew he'd question what had happened by the time he returned home, but by then, at least it wouldn't have been so soon.

A sound came from the kitchen, and I winced. He was home. Shutting the door behind me, I crept over to the open doorway leading in. Glancing around the corner, I watched as my partner was making dinner. From the smell that reached my nose, he was making my favorite meal, and his too. I smiled briefly, my heart doing little flutters in my chest. Even when I wasn't around, he was thinking of me.

Gods, I loved him so much. I stood there watching him work, entranced by his swift and sooth movements. He was graceful, gliding across the kitchen like it was his dance floor. The kitchen was his stage, and he owned it.

Shaking my head out of my daze, I carefully moved along the open door to sneak by. If I could get to the bathroom, I could take care of the worst of the injures to not worry him as much. Unfortunately for me, fate had other plans. My boyfriend turned to face me, a smile on his face, that quickly faded once he saw my appearance.

He leaned back to the stove, turning the heat down to not over cook the food, before he walked over to me. Kneeling down, he examined me closer. His finger brushed against the mark on my cheek, causing me to wince at the twinge of pain that came with his gentle touch.

"What happened, Myke?"

"I...." I swallowed, struggling to get the words out. I hated being weak—feeling so helpless and unable to defend myself—what did he even see in me? Why would he want to date someone that couldn't even stand up for himself?

His eyes locked with mine, calm and gentle. But underneath that, I knew there was a raging storm. Not at me, but at the bastards that harmed me.

"You can tell me. I'm not going to judge you."

"I was... jumped on my way back from the venue..."

"How bad is it?"

"Bad enough."

"Let me see."

Looking away, I lifted my shirt to, he could see the darkening bruises blooming on my ribs. Like my face, he ran a dark finger over them, being as gentle as he could. It didn't stop me from sucking in a breath. He removed his hand, before cupping my arm to inspect the damages. His expression grew dark the more injures he gazed upon.

"Carmyne—"

"Who hurt you?" He leaned closer, causing me to instinctively lean away. Despite the evenness in his voice, there was no mistaking the intent behind his words. The sheer amount of repressed fury in his voice alone made me shrink back.

"I-I don't know... Just a bunch of guys... Maybe some thugs or something...." I gave a weak laugh, trying to defuse the surrounding tension. "They were pretty rough on me, but it's okay—"

"It's not okay, Myke," Carmyne said hotly. "You were hurt. How can you be okay with that?"

"I—"

"No. We're going to deal with this as soon as I heal you. And that's final."

I went quiet after that. The snappiness in his tone scared me. It wasn't aimed at me, not fully, but I knew what my boyfriend could do. I didn't want to get on his bad side, even though I knew he'd never hurt me. His expression softened, and he lifted a hand to cup my uninjured cheek, staring into my blue eyes with his red ones.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you, Myke. I'm not angry at you. I could never be. But I'm not going to sit by and allow people to get away with harming you like this. This could have been much worse, or you could have died. I won't stand for letting people think they can push you around like that. So, I'm going to make sure it doesn't happen again."