My Protector

chapter five

After I survived the motorcycle ride home, we both stored our helmets on his bike and walked inside.

“Do you want anything to drink?” I asked, hesitant to sound either too polite or too friendly.

“No thank you I’m fine.” We both walked awkwardly to the couch and sat down trying to get comfortable. After a few more awkward eye contacts and some clearings of the throat, Jake blurted out the question that must have been bothering him the most.

“So would you like to explain to me now why all these people keep trying to hurt you?” he asked, eyes pleading for answers. He looked like he really cared, like he wanted to know so badly that I could sit here for days explaining and he wouldn’t even blink.

“Well,” I began with a deep breath, “I used to have this boyfriend named Stephen. He was a freshman in college at the time and we met at a party I went to. Anyways he was, well, he was in a small gang consisting of him and two friends.”  Jake seemed so into my story, that I had to stop myself from smiling at his intense look. “When I found out he was in a gang and what they did and all that stuff, well, I broke up with him. He was drunk and wasn’t too happy and he tried to…” I stopped not able to bring myself to say the word rape. Jake looked at me with pleading eyes to continue so I gathered my thoughts and pride and continued on. “…well he tried to rape me when I wouldn’t cooperate, let’s say. So now he’s in jail and I don’t know for how long. But he said that his friends, Jon and Ben would get me for him.” As I finished I looked up at Jake and he had his head in his hands, staring at the ground.

“Um, are you okay?” I asked, my voice coming out in a whisper.

“Am I okay? Are you asking if I’m okay after you telling me that you almost got raped and now have two goons out after to hurt you? What I want to know is how are you okay?” he said as he was now practically panting and his eyes screamed anger. I was suddenly afraid, why was he mad at me? Did my story scare him and now he didn’t want anything to do with me?

“I’m not really,” I mumbled in a small voice. His eyes suddenly turning soft and he sat down on the couch next to me.

“I’m sorry to get so upset; I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just it makes me so mad that those assholes would do that to you! Why haven’t you called the police?”

“It’s not that easy, they haven’t actually done anything that I can prove and it would just make Stephen even more angry for when he comes out.” I kept my eyes down, embarrassed that I had to tell my story at all.

“Stephen won’t come out to you if you don’t do something about this! He’ll come out to a successful Jon and Ben!” Jake said, suddenly his voice turning mad again. I froze in realization of what he was saying. I guess he noticed too because he said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to come out like that. I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to. And I can be your own personal police.” He was grinning now, trying to make the subject lighten a bit.

“Thank you,” I said relieved adding in a small smile of my own. My eyes were still stuck on my lap and on my wringing hands. I suddenly felt Jake’s big, warm hand on my chin, and lightly move my face up to face his. I blushed at the touch, but looked into his eyes. He leaned in slowly and my eyes widened in shock, then closed. I felt his cheek brush mine as he whispered into my ear,

“Your turn.”

I immediately blushed at the touch and the thought that maybe he was going to…never mind it was too much to even hope for. My ear was tingling from his breathe still lingering.

“What’s your story?” I asked suddenly, my curiosity getting the best of me.

“You want my family first, or the reason I’m bad?” he asked, completely serious. This threw me off.

“Um, I guess family first,” I stammered not prepared for his story at all.

“My father beat my mother right in front of me, ever since I can remember. Even when he wasn’t drunk he would still do it. So one day I walked in on my mother packing her clothes into a suitcase, tears streaming down her bruised face and I asked where she was going. She said we’re all going to live with grandma. By all she means myself and my brother, I’ll explain about him later. Anyways as we were walking out the door, I heard a gunshot, and I felt my mother fall down beside me. I looked behind and saw my father still holding the gun up. Then he told us to run. And we did, we ran like hell.” He paused to take a shaky breath and I waited for him to continue.

“We ran to the neighbor’s house, screaming and crying, trying to explain while they called the police. We went to live with my aunt and uncle and my dad went to jail for life for murdering my mother.” His eyes seemed to glaze over as if he were back to that day, standing next to his dead mother. I wept inside for him, not wanting him to feel that pain. My curiosity finally got the best of me and I asked tentatively,

“And your brother?” My words seemed to snap him back into reality and his gaze seemed hard as he stared at something behind me.

“My brother is older than me. He’s 25 and he lives in a mental hospital for being a schizophrenic. My uncle bought me my motorcycle to visit him once every month, that’s the maximum I’m allowed to. I think it might be because of his shitty childhood, but then where does that leave me? I just blame my dad so much.” His eyes started to water and on instinct, I reached over and grabbed his hand and squeezed. That might have been the saddest story I’ve ever heard.

“Do you think that’s why you’re bad?” I whispered, looking directly into his eyes now.

“I chose to be. I chose to be like this so I could be bad, but still be the opposite of my father. I can drink a lot without punching a girl I’m with and I can get in trouble without going so far as to put my sorry ass in jail.”  I looked at Jake with a new respect that I never thought I’d have felt for him. I wanted to just hold him and tell him everything’s going to be alright but I felt that we weren’t close enough for that.

“I really do want to protect you Danielle.” Jake suddenly looked up at me, his face serious, yet soft in sincerity. And I believed him. 

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