Angel In Disguise

Chapter 7

That night Maya hardly slept. She laid in bed tossing and turning but her body just would not calm down. Why? After all these years did he come back to try to hurt her again? She barely knew him and yet he believes she owes him something.  After all this time why can her past not leave her alone? Why is it that every time she tries to do something  good, something better, why does faith throw it back in her face?

Everything that happened that day was like a slap in the face to remind her of him. She'd been young, stupid and gullible. She'd also been vulnerable and hurt. That day she'd also forgotten that it was ' drink and beat on Maya' day for her mother.

She'd  been in the house sitting on the sofa watching her favorite show. She'd  been so lost in it that she did not hear the door open and her mother step in. The only thing she knew was that at one moment she had had a small smile on her face when the hero saved his beloved and the next moment she had been on the floor holding her jaw from the slap her mother had just given her. Her body shivered from the memory of what had happened afterwards.

After her mother had had her fill of beating her she had crawled to her room, gotten her pack and left the house through her bedroom window just in case her mother came back for a second round. She had been walking the best she knew how with what she guessed to be three broken ribs when she saw him.

Or  rather when he saw her.

She remembered him from one of her classes from school. She had always admired him even when she had had Luke. That night he approached her. He had been so appalled at her condition and to her he had seemed concerned. He, despite her objections, decided he was either bringing her to the hospital or he would fix her up himself. She chose him of course because what would she have said to the doctors when they saw the state she had been in if she had gone to the hospital?

So she went to his house and he fixed her up and he so kindly allowed her to stay the night. After that night it became routine for them and to her she had found another Luke to care for her. She trusted him because to her he made her feel safe.

Two months after the first incident he decided that he wanted to be more than her friend. She was hesitant at first but he convinced her that he loved her and all he really wanted to do was to take care of her. She believed him. After that she enjoyed his more intimate ministrations. She enjoyed having him hold her closer than she had ever been held before. She enjoyed his probing kisses and wondering hands. He loved her.

Or so she thought.

He, after a while, became aggressive. He began to force her for more. His hands started to wonder farther than her breasts and even though she stopped his hands from going farther all she wanted was for him to take away that vacuum in her chest that she was constantly reminded of. And so even though she didn't necessarily want him to she allowed him to touch her.

Then he decided that she was being selfish by not allowing him more. I mean who could not and would not want him? She did not know what to do but she still allowed and didn't say anything whenever his hands passed her waist line. She did not want to lose him and so she convinced herself she was being selfish and that the least she could do was to allow him to touch her in whichever place he chose because she owed him so much after all he had done for her. She failed to remember that Luke had never demanded such from her no matter how many of her ribs he would have had to bandage after her many and seemingly endless beatings.

It was their sixth month anniversary and he brought her to his house and said he wanted them to do something fun and crazy. The next she knew was that he was pulling down his zipper and pulling her head towards him. That's when she realized what she had gotten herself into. She fought him then. After everything she had already been through she decided this would not be one of them. She remembered sinking her nails into his skin and using them to dig down and rip into his flesh until she felt his blood running down her arms.

He had grabbed into her hair roughly, determined to get whatever he wanted and whatever he could get from her. She remembered the feel of her hair being ripped out when she had  wrenched her head from his strong hold. She didn't care if she came out of the situation bald as long as she got out of it without having him force himself onto her and forcefully taking from her that which should be hers only to give.

She remembered that she had forced herself to her feet to give herself more leverage to use against him. Then she had pushed him with all of her might so he fell on his mahogany  coffee table and she fell on top of him. Then she had grabbed a hold of his head with both hands and banged his head multiple times on the edge of the mahogany coffee table while ignoring the  tears pouring down her face and she began to feel light headed from the  strong hold he had gotten on her neck.

She didn't remember how long she had been banging his head for until she felt herself being gently pulled off his still body. It took awhile for her to come out of the stupor she had fallen in. When she did she realized it was the police that had pulled her off Adam's body. She was wrapped in a warm blanket after the EMTs had looked at her. Then she had been taken to the police station where she was questioned and told that the neighbors had called the police when they heard her screaming, something  she didn't know she had done at the time. It was only after that that  she was told that Adam had died. It turned out that a vein in the back of his neck had snapped while she fought him.

She supposed she should have felt some sort of remorse for killing him but the only thing that her conscience battled with was that a human, or who was supposed to be one, had died. A life was a life no matter the person's actions. Besides that she did not particularly care that he was gone. She had been in a killed or be killed situation. It was either going to be her or him.

She chose him.

After everything she had had to live through to get to where she was dying was not an option

The situation was brought to court but she was never charged as all the evidence pointed to self defense. The judge had sent her home to her mother but they did not know that they had sentenced her to something  far worse than prison. She got off easy the night but the morning she was beaten unconscious. She never got or allowed anyone to come close to her ever again.

She was broken from her reverie when she felt someone shaking her. She gripped his shoulders to stop him and then looked up into his face. She was frozen by his sweltering gaze and the intensity and the blazing concern with which he gazed at her. She then felt the wetness of her cheeks having only just realized that she had been crying.

He didn't say anything when he saw that she was back from whatever trip she had just taken. All he did was to climb on the bed beside her and hold her. He wrapped his arms around her  and pulled her into his chest and he just held her as her quiet crying became great sobs.

He had no idea what was wrong, well, besides the obvious, but he thought she trusted that he'd protect her. He had worried about her when they had gotten to her house after stopping at his place. When they'd arrived all she had done was to show him where he would stay until everything was sorted and then she had retreated to her room and locked herself in.

He had decided to give her some time to come to terms with the recent upheaval in her life and  she had reassured him she'd be fine. That she was alright. Now he wasn't sure if she was crying because of the idiot that threatened her or something else entirely different.

He decided to go with the latter because he knew his M well enough to know that something like an old man threatening her would not cause her to cry. So he decided as he glanced down at her sleeping face that he'd allow her to rest tonight and tomorrow he would get his answers.