Protection

"I just don't want you to leave."

     Billy finally finishes the workload dropped on him by his shitty father. After stopping by his house for a shower and change of clothes, he cockily makes his way to his woman. A grin is spread wide across his face as he whips into the driveway. His joyous stroll comes to a halt as she approaches the porch and notices a flashlight discarded on the ground, still lit. His attention is then drawn to the door, it's open and dim light creeps out of it like a hand escaping a coffin.

     His entire body goes rigid. Billy takes small, strategic steps onto the porch, slowly pulling the wooden door open to see Prudence, nothing more than a lump on the floor. He runs to her side, kneeling on the floor next to her.

     "Prudence, Prudence?" He shakes her, gently at first and then faster. Her eyes blink open groggily as she fights to get her vision to focus. Half-dried blood is caked around her nose and the spaces between her teeth are still red with flowing blood. It looks much worse than it is, and she struggles to tell him that as her words are just gargles from the incessant beating and kicking.

     "Billy, Billy it's fine," she takes his hand off her cheek, holding it in her soft grip. He pulls his hand away and replaces it in the same spot, looking her up and down silently. His eyes look like they're vibrating inside his skull, an unknowable lividity. He stares at her the entire time he's helping her up from the floor, careful, gentle, and precise with all his movements. Billy has her wait on the couch while he gathers a wet rag and other first aid supplies. Such gentle nature does not come to him naturally, but he makes sure to keep his large, rough hands as delicate as possible. After she's cleaned up, she slinks off to change clothes, discarding the bloody garments by the laundry room.

     "Listen, Prudence," He finally breaks his silence. His voice is low and cold. "I need you to tell me exactly what happened." Prudence is lying on the couch with her legs across Billy's lap. He stares forward with a rigid jaw.

     "I don't know, it happened too fast." She looks down at her hands.

     "It was Jason."

     "No, I don't think it was. There was some guy out in the yard when I got home," she warps the truth to the best of her ability, doing anything to stop Billy from acting out of rage and copping a murder charge.

     "He's obviously with Jason, babe. How many people do you piss off this badly in a town this small?"

     "It's not my fault Jason's a spiteful bitch! This wasn't a student, he was... older. I think he was gonna try to rob the place and panicked."

     "What'd he look like?" Prudence gives him a vague, made-up description, hoping it's enough to make him calm down if he can't think of anyone right off the bat.

     "It looked worse than it is, babe." She reaches a loving hand to his bicep, but he quickly turns, grabbing the hem of her shirt and jerking it upward, revealing a battered torso.

     "No, I don't think I buy that." He tugs her shirt back down and looks away. "So I'm supposed to just sit here after my girlfriend gets attacked in her own house? We're just taking that now?" His rage is quick to be misplaced.

     "I just don't want you to leave," she whines. "I'm-I'm scared." Another lie, and Billy almost catches her for it, knowing good and goddamn well that the only time she'd admit she's scared is if there was a gun to her head.

     "No, you're not." He pulls her legs further up onto his lap with a huff, staying for Prudence's peace of mind at the cost of his own. A sigh of relief flutters from her chest after realizing he's staying put. Though anxious, she finally drifts off to sleep. When she wakes up, she's in her bed with Billy's strong arm protectively wrapped around her, keeping her flush against his body.

     Prudence tries to get up, but his grip around her stiffens. A second later Billy hums awake.

     "Good morning," he yawns, pressing a kiss to her temple.

     "Good morning, handsome. You carried me to bed?"

     "I tried to wake you up four times," he grins. Prudence scrunches her nose.

     "Oops," she shrugs. She starts to sit up, but pain ripples through her body, causing her to wince. Billy's jaw tenses and a sharp breath escapes his nose as he watches her in agony.

     "Prudence," he can only stare. "You have to tell me what happened or I'm going to walk out the door right now and find Jason Carver." Prudence sighs, buying every little second she can for a foolproof lie.

     "It was some guy. He was standing outside the house all day," she doesn't have to feign a slight tremble in her voice as she imagines they'd been watching her house at least since the window incident. "I thought he was gone and I went outside to smoke. I heard something in the bushes and next thing I knew I was inside the house getting fucked up."

     Billy's eyelids shutter at her emphasis, sick with rage at the thought of anyone laying their hands on her at all, let alone to cause harm. He cannot fathom the idea, even when the bleeding proof is right in front of him.

     "You're not allowed to go anywhere without me, okay?" He awaits confirmation.

     "'Not allowed?'" She raises an eyebrow.

     "If you're not gonna tell me the truth, then I guess I'll just have to be there next time it happens."

     "There won't be a next time," she mumbles.

     "Oh, really? It's not gonna happen again? It's already happened again!" he starts to raise his voice.

     "Don't yell at me, Billy," she speaks sternly, pretty much over any man acting mightier than her.

     "I'm... sorry," he sighs, still visibly upset.

     "Just... come back to bed for a while." Her soft voice wrapped around his head.

     "I," he sighs. "I gotta go." He slips out from the blankets and pulls a shirt over his head.

     "Billy..." She reaches out for his arm, but he walks away, exiting her room and her eye line. She listens as the front door opens and closes, followed by the roar of his engine shortly after.

     A heavy sigh expels from Prudence's lips. She's too tired to fight or chase or anything, really. She considers getting out of bed, but ultimately stays there. Staring at the ceiling for a few hours. Wondering how she got herself into this mess to begin with.