Rules

by Doe, Anna B.

  “Let me go,” I cry out. His fingers unbutton my shorts roughly and slide beneath the material. The tears I’ve been holding back return to the surface. Not again. I can’t… “No!”

  A hand covers my mouth once again, muffling my protests as the hand in my pants finds its goal. My stomach turns violently at the first brush of his fingers against my sex, my whole body shivering in disgust.

  “You want this baby,” his voice whispers against my earlobe as his fingers trace the line of my panties. “You want to make me happy, right?”

  No. I want to scream, but no words come out. Stay back.

  “You know what happens if you don’t make me happy.”

  Leave me alone.

  “Get your hands off of her, you fucker!”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  MAX

  I rub my face as I look at the rundown building on the other side of the road. A crappy, neon red sign proclaiming Joe’s Drink n’ Drive sways lightly with the cool breeze.

  Rubbing my hands together, I try to warm them up. I’ve been here for over an hour, waiting for Brook’s shift to finish so I can get her to talk to me. The need to apologize for yesterday has been nagging at me since she hung up on me.

  The last thing I wanted was to fight, but it feels like no matter what I do or say, all of our interactions lead to an argument one way or another. It’s a vicious cycle that we can’t seem to break.

  I check my phone, the bright light making me narrow my eyes. The last patrons left a while ago, but I could still see the dimmed light shining through filthy windows, indicating there is somebody inside, although the “closed” sign is hanging on the door.

  Done with waiting and too restless to sit any longer, I get out. The door falls shut softly behind me. I’m debating between calling her and going straight to the door when I hear muffled sounds coming from somewhere close.

  Stopping in my tracks, I tilt my head to the side, listening. Whoever or whatever it is died down or I just imagined it because the only thing I can hear now is a light buzzing sound coming from the streetlamp down the road. Shaking my head, I continue walking when a loud cry makes my blood freeze.

  “Let me go!”

  It feels like an eternity, although it’s probably only seconds, before I snap out of it and start running in the direction of the noise. The blood starts pumping through my veins once again, this time faster, and I can hear the echo of my rapid heartbeat and feet hitting the pavement mixing with the faint sound of the voice I recognize.

  Brook.

  “N—”

  Her protest is muffled, and I can’t fight all the dark thoughts that are assaulting my mind. I can see her, small and vulnerable. The fear in her voice is so real. Whoever is there with her is terrifying her. And just like that, the ice I was feeling melts into hot anger. A rage I didn’t know I was capable of overwhelms me, burning hot in my veins, one thought going on repeat.

  I’m going to kill them.

  “Bitch, you’ll pay for the…”

  The alley between two buildings, from which the voices are coming, is dark but I don’t need the light because the assholes are not trying to keep it quiet.

  My breathing is labored like I ran miles, not mere feet, my gaze glued to the dark figure in front of me.

  “Get your hands off of her, you fucker!” I pant through my clenched teeth, but when he doesn’t move fast enough, my hands grab his shoulder, pulling him to face me.

  “What…”

  White-hot rage prevents me from hearing anything he says as I swing at him. My fist connects with bone and soft flesh. A cracking sound fills the silence, and the shadow falls down to his knees.

  Pain radiates through my clasped hands, but I almost don’t feel it because of the adrenaline rush in my veins. Using the opportunity to have him at his knees, literally, I kick him in the gut, twice. He bends forward, moaning painfully as he crashes to the ground.

  “Not so brave now, are you asshole?” I spit, giving him one final kick in the stomach. But my glee is short-lived because a loud shriek rips through the night, making my head fly up.

  There are more of them, the realization dawns on me. The fuckers ganged up on her.

  I swear under my breath, angry at myself, the darkness that’s clouding my sight, and these fuckers who thought ganging up on a woman would be fun. I’m so furious, my brain concentrates on one thing and one thing only—getting Brook away from them.

  My eyes have only somewhat adjusted to the darkness, so I lean on my senses and let the sound of the struggle guide me. I can see them push and pull. They’re so close to each other, they form one big shadow. I run toward them, grabbing the closest person.

  They’re so lost in what they’re doing, they don’t even hear me coming. The guy almost slips through my fingers, but I dig them into the collar of his jacket and pull so hard he stumbles on his feet.

  “Get your hands off of her, you stupid son of a bitch,” I growl.

  That gets me their attention. Good.

  The guy opens his mouth, but nothing comes from it because my clenched hand is shutting him up. All it takes is one swing, and he’s on his hands and knees.

  “What the fuck, man?” The outraged question comes from behind me.

  Slowly, I turn around.

  I’ll get back to that douche later; Brook comes first. She’ll always come first.

  “If I were you, I’d move your goddamn hands off of her,” I warn, my tone so quiet I can barely hear it from the thumping of blood in my veins. “Now.”

  Cracking my knuckles to ease the ache in my hands, I look at the guy. He’s trembling in his spot, like the little pussy he is. Not so brave now, are we?

  I stalk toward him, and with every step I make, I can see more clearly how pathetic he is. With every step I make, I loom more and more over him. I’m a good five or six inches taller and bulkier. He looks like a mess. His eyes are wide, pupils dilated from a mix of fear and alcohol that I can smell all around him. His face pales as I near, and I can see his throat bobble as he swallows, beads of sweat forming on his face.

  He must be shell-shocked because he doesn’t listen. He’s still holding Brook.

  With gritted teeth, I pull her out of his arms, trying to be as careful and as gentle as possible while at the same time not letting myself actually look at her. If I do, I’m gonna lose it.

  “Get out of here.” I thrust my keys in her trembling hand and push her toward the main road, then I turn back to the guy.

  “Look, dude, I get it…” he starts with a trembling voice, but I’m not interested in listening. The guy tries to walk backward, but I follow behind him, like a cat going after his prey.

  “I told you to let go,” I say calmly, but my voice is the only calm thing about me.

  His back crashes into the wall behind him, his eyes popping out of their sockets with the realization that there is nowhere to go. I have him cornered and at my mercy.

  “P-please…” he begs. His whole body shakes in fear, and I can’t help the crazy smile that’s curling my lips.

  “She begged you to stop, too.” I look at my bruised knuckles before my eyes meet his deer-caught-in-headlights gaze. “You didn’t listen, so don’t expect mercy from me.”

  Then I let loose.

  He screams like the little bitch that he is as soon as my fist connects with his face, but that only makes me laugh as I beat the shit out of him.

  Never in my life have I been a violent person. Hockey might be a contact sport, but even while on the ice, I try to play nice. A slightly harder shove if somebody pisses me off, or an elbow to the gut, but that’s mostly it. It’s all child’s play compared to some hockey players who thrive on the violence and causing trouble.

  And while I do box occasionally, it’s usually me against the bag, not another person, so to let the rage take over…

  The thrill of delivering punch after punch makes the blood rush through my veins, the sound of flesh meeting flesh, bone scraping again
st bone raising the fine hair at the nape of my neck. Exhilarating and crazy, two completely opposite feelings, makes electricity run through my body. It’s addictive, this rush of adrenaline and power I’m feeling, and for the first time, I understand why some people keep doing it. And although it terrifies me, I can’t stop because I can still see Brook’s trembling frame in his hands. I can still hear her low, raspy voice as she begged them to let go, but they wouldn’t listen. Her voice that was asking for help, calling my name…

  “Max!”

  Brook’s raspy voice breaks through the haze and madness that’s my mind. I turn around, looking for her. I get just a few seconds, a few lousy seconds when I left my guard down. The fist comes out of nowhere, connecting with my jaw and making my head swing back. My whole body jolts backward, and I stumble over the guy I knocked out that is still lying on the ground.

  Enraged, I turn back to finish the guy, when small hands clasp around my neck tightly, almost to the point of choking.

  “MAX!” Brook cries into my neck, her hands not letting go. “You’ll kill him if you don’t stop!”

  “He touched you!” I yell, but hold in the rage that’s consuming me. The guy curls in a ball in the corner, looking at me through eyes narrowed with fear. “They cornered you in a dark alley, and if I hadn’t shown up, they would have raped you!”

  My words are harsh, but there is no helping it. Rage is still burning hot in my stomach, the thoughts of “what if” assaulting my brain. The idea of something happening to Brook…

  My whole body shivers as I push the dark thoughts away.

  I was here. She’s fine.

  “You don’t want his death on your consciousness.” Her trembling body presses against my back, so close I can feel every shiver going through her limbs. “Let him go. He’s not worth it.”

  “You’re worth it,” I rasp out, but let her pull me back, although every cell in my body protests.

  “You’ve done enough.” Her forehead leans against my back. “You saved me. If you’d have come just a…”

  Her voice breaks, stopping her from finishing the sentence, but I understand. My Adam’s apple bobs as I swallow down, my mind going down the dark road. If I had come just a minute later, he would have raped her. They all would have.

  The bile rises in my throat, and it feels like I’m going to throw up.

  A mere sixty seconds and everything would have been different.

  My hands clench into fists and I’m all but ready to go at it again, but a soft whisper stops me.

  “Please, take me home.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  BROOK

  “Brook.”

  A hand lands on my thigh, making me flinch back. My heart is beating wildly in my chest, and my skin crawls like somebody poured acid over it. Disgust and shame pile in the pit of my stomach, indicating there is a good possibility I’ll throw up again, although I’m not sure there is anything left in my stomach.

  My shoulder bumps against a hard surface, bringing back snapshots of what happened tonight.

  Car.

  Max.

  Home.

  I asked Max to take me home.

  My eyes fly open, scanning the space around me. I wasn’t asleep; I’m not even sure I’ll be able to. But when I sat down in the cozy leather seat and Max cranked up the heat, exhaustion finally caught up to me. My eyes fell shut, but my mind kept working. Thinking, wondering, if I’d maybe done something differently, if I hadn’t said the things I did to those guys, tonight would have turned out differently.

  “I know you wanted to go to Lia’s, hell maybe you even wanted to go home home, but I…” He stops, lost for words.

  Shaking his head, he pulls at his messy hair. “I just couldn’t…”

  “It’s…” My voice comes out raspy and low, so I clear my throat before trying again. “It’s okay.”

  As long as I wasn’t there, I didn’t care where I was.

  Pulling my legs closer to my chest, I let the silence fall over us as we stare at the two-story Victorian mansion covered in darkness.

  “Are you…” Max starts, but I stop him before he’s even done asking.

  “I’m fine.”

  Sighing, his hands grab the steering wheel, gripping so tightly his knuckles turn white.

  “Brook, what hap—”

  “Nothing happened,” I grit through my clenched teeth.

  I can’t talk about it. I can’t think about it. If I do… If I do it’ll bring out the memories that are better left forgotten. Memories I’m not equipped to deal with right now.

  “But it could have!” Max yells, his fist connecting to the steering wheel, making me flinch. “Dammit, Brook! Something could have happened and…”

  “You think I don’t know that?” I fire back at him, done with his nosiness. “I was there, Max! I was the one who was shamed and violated in the worst way a woman can be violated, so don’t you dare act like you know shit. Don’t you dare pretend like you understand, because you can’t.”

  My hands grip tighter around my legs, pulling them closer to my chest. Small, I feel so small and breakable. If I don’t hold tight, I might actually fall apart.

  The silence stretches between us, neither of us knowing what to say. Or maybe he’s just afraid if he does say something, I’ll break. Not that I can blame him. My whole body still trembles from what happened, and even the smallest of sounds, the tiniest movement makes me react.

  Finally, I’m the one who breaks the quiet. Giving in, if only just a tiny bit. “I can still feel their hands on my body.” I swallow the lump in my throat, the stale taste of puke lingering in my mouth. I don’t dare look at him, afraid of what I’ll find when I face him. “And it takes everything in me not to throw up. My skin still crawls at the thought of their touch. At the thought of…”

  I turn my head to the side. Closing my eyes, I fight the memories assaulting my mind.

  Not now. I can’t deal with this now.

  “So pretty, Brookie. So, so pretty.” His hands slide down my waist, caressing the underside of my small, naked chest, over my stomach and dipping into the elastic of my panties. “And so soft.”

  His head bows down, slurred words murmured into my skin as his lips touch me. His clammy, fat fingers pull down my panties, scratching me in the process. I yelp softly, tears running down my cheeks.

  “N-no… Please…”

  But of course, he doesn’t listen. He never listens.

  Covering my mouth, I open the door hastily, almost falling out in the process, but if I don’t get out, I’m going to throw up all over the leather interior.

  “Brook!” Max yells, he too, getting out of the car.

  Falling down to my knees, the hand that’s been covering my mouth slides down to the base of my throat. I can barely get enough air into my lungs as I dry-heave. I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast, and what little was in my tummy, I already puked out. Not that my stomach cared.

  His warm hands land on my shoulders, and I flinch forcefully out of his reach.

  “Don’t touch me!” I yell, not caring if my shouting will wake up anybody. Not caring if I’m making a spectacle of myself.

  My whole body quivers, with shock or the cold, I’m not sure. My icy skin is covered in goosebumps and sweat. Just the thought of somebody’s hands on me, even if it’s somebody I know, makes the panic come back in full force. My heart stomps in my chest, a wheezing sound coming out of my mouth like I’m going to choke.

  But Max doesn’t seem to care about my wishes or panic attack.

  “You’re not alone, Brook.” He falls on the ground behind me, his strong arms wrapping around my struggling body and pulling my back to his chest.

  “Let me go,” I plead, the tears that I managed to hold at bay now falling freely.

  “You’re not alone,” he whispers again calmly. His chin leans on my shoulder, warm breath tickling runaway strands of hair and the sensitive skin of my neck. “You’re safe. I’m here,
and nothing will happen to you. I promise you; you’re safe. I’ll keep you safe.”

  He repeats the same words over and over again. His soothing voice should help calm me, but it’s doing the complete opposite.

  “You can’t say things like that!”

  He has no right making promises like that. Shitty things happen all the time. There is no avoiding hurt. No avoiding darkness when it is swallowing you whole.

  I tried once and look at me now. Back where I started.

  I try to get up and out of his arms, I even manage to stand on my feet, but he pulls me back. We both stumble to the ground, his body easing my fall, and before I can even react, he rolls us, ending on top of me and pinning me to the snow-covered ground.

  “You’re safe, Brook.”

  Even in the darkness, I can recognize his gray eyes staring into mine. Powerlessness and determination mix together in those silver pools that draw me in, holding me hostage against my will.

  A shiver runs through my body from his intent stare. I should be scared. His big body is covering mine and looming over me, his hands are on my skin, and although a part of me hates his touch, the other, a much deeper part that I’ve tried to bury for weeks, craves it. And I can’t help but hate myself for that.

  “Can you please let me go?” I plead once again, knowing there is no use in fighting.

  His soft eyes look over my face, searching for God only knows what. “I’ll let you go once you calm down. Nobody will hurt you here.”

  “Funny coming from a guy who already did.”

  Max flinches back like I punched him. Part of me instantly feels guilty, but the other part? The other part just wants him to let me go.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  MAX

  As soon as the words are out of her mouth, I see regret flash in her green irises. But there is no taking them back now. And why should she? She isn’t the one in the wrong here; I am.