Protector

by Candy Quinn

  He leaned in and covered my hands with one of his. Startled, I looked up to meet his eyes, green and emphatic. “I’m sorry it had to go down that way, but if you only knew what I know, you’d understand why I did it.”

  I frowned in confusion. “What do you know? About what?”

  Cole shook his head, sighed, and sat back against the wall. He peered down at me with an almost predatory stare. “If you do what I tell you, then you’ll never have to find out.”

  My heart rate quickened a little at this. “What?”

  “Listen. I didn’t invite you here to apologize, really. In fact, I’m here to warn you.”

  At this point I was starting to feel a little angry. His cageyness was getting annoying, and I was beginning to feel like I was being played. “Cole, what are you trying to say? Just spit it out. Please,” I added.

  He glared. “I have something of yours, Mackenzie,” he began darkly, “a secret. And I don’t think you want me to give it away to anyone else. If this gets out, it could ruin you.”

  Feeling sick to my stomach, I retorted, “What the hell is this? An ambush? You’re blackmailing me?”

  “Just a heads-up, Mackenzie. You did something bad, and I’m going to use it against you if you don’t follow my instructions carefully.”

  My brain went into a frenzy trying to determine what he could possibly have on me. I was a good kid. I was boring. What could he possibly know?

  As though he read my mind, he said, “You cheated on your SAT.”

  My mouth fell open in shock. How could he have figured that out? Jessica was the only one who knew. A wild scenario unfolded in my head: Jessica, being the fearless seductress she was, had sought Cole out, slept with him, and told him all my deepest secrets just to keep him away from me, to keep him for herself. It was an ugly thought, a nasty thought, and I could feel tears stinging in my eyes just imagining it. Surely my own best friend wouldn’t betray me so viciously, not even for a chance with Cole van der Hausen.

  “How—how do you know that?” I asked.

  “I have my ways,” he replied simply.

  Wiping at my eye furiously, I asked, “What is it? What do you want from me? Money?”

  For a split second I could detect a hint of regret in his eyes, a twinge of hurt. Cole ran his fingers back through his hair in frustration. “No, nothing like that. I’m not doing this for me. I’m doing this, all of this, to protect you.”

  “From what?!” I cried, and immediately clasped a hand over my mouth. I glanced around to see that a few people were now looking over at us.

  “Be quiet,” Cole insisted under his breath. He smiled, to put the observers off the trail. I followed suit and forced a smile onto my face, even as I struggled to hold back tears.

  “No,” I shot back in an undertone, “you keep saying that you want to protect me. Why?”

  “Mackenzie, please listen to me. I have to get you out of that house by whatever means necessary. It’s not safe for you there. I can’t just stand by and watch you get hurt. Not after what happened to Chelsea,” he said quickly, then stopped himself.

  “Who?” I asked, totally lost.

  “Don’t ask me that. Don’t mention it. Please.”

  “So,” I said softly. “What do you want me to do, then?”

  “Move out,” he replied. “Get out of that fucking mansion. If you have nowhere to go, you can stay with me. In fact, knowing what kind of friends you have, it’s probably better that way.”

  “Excuse me?” I demanded, leaning forward so as to keep my voice low.

  “You have one week. I don’t care how you go about it, as long as you don’t mention me. Tell them you’re going on a girls’ trip with friends. Tell them you’re going to math camp. Tell them you fucking hate their guts and you just can’t stand to be under the same roof as them. I don’t care. Just get out of there before the week is out, and don’t you dare mention my name. If you don’t do what I ask, I will let your secret slip,” he concluded, folding his hands on the table.

  By now, the tears were already sliding down my face. Feeling utterly devastated, totally trapped, I could only nod. What other choice did I have? “Fine,” I mumbled. “But I will sleep in a fucking landfill before I ever stay with you.”

  With that, I stood up and ran out the door. As I passed the café window I caught a glimpse of Cole sitting with his face in his hands, looking like he’d just been punched in the gut.

  Heart pounding loudly in my ears, I took off down the street, not even bothering to pull my hood up, crying openly as I shoved my way through the curious crowds. I couldn’t even begin to wrap my head around what had just happened. It was unbelievable. This couldn’t possibly be my life—my dull, easy life. Things had finally started looking up, and now everything was ruined thanks to my own stupid mistake—and thanks to Cole. I wondered how in the world I could possibly make it on my own, how I would ever break the news to my mom that I was leaving. I realized it was probably safer just to keep it from her, to not tell her my plans. And what were my plans, anyway? I had nowhere to go. I supposed I would have to move in with Jessica, but then I also knew that she would be absolutely impossible to deal with. She would ask too many questions, she wouldn’t let me lie low.

  No, I thought with a heavy heart, I would have to go it alone.

  I was so absorbed in these horrible thoughts that it wasn’t until twenty minutes later that I realized I’d been walking in the wrong direction. I stopped short and looked around. The crowds had thinned to nothing, and the brick and concrete buildings rising up around me were totally unfamiliar. There was an unpleasant odor of gasoline and cigarette smoke cloaking the area, and I immediately turned back around to try and find my way back to familiar streets. I walked quickly for several minutes, tears clouding my vision, until an uncomfortable sound entered my consciousness. There were footsteps, coming from somewhere behind me.

  Not daring to look back, I quickened my pace until I was nearly running, but the click-clack of heavy steps picked up speed, too. Fearfully, I broke into a full-on sprint, wishing that the boots I was wearing were better suited to the task. Finally, I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder, and I screamed at the sight of four tall, bulky men in sweatpants and T-shirts racing after me.

  “Leave me alone!” I cried out. There was cruel laughter in response.

  Feeling my legs starting to get shaky, I panicked and darted into a wide alleyway hoping desperately for a place to hide. I dove behind a dumpster amid a swarm of flies and the overwhelming stench of rotten garbage. I heard the men follow me into the alley, and I wondered wildly if they were friends of Cole’s, already dispatched to capture me.

  “Where’d she go?” barked one of them.

  “She’s around here somewhere, bro,” said another. “Hiding like a little coward.”

  “They’re all fucking cowards, without their money and their guards, huh?”

  “Yeah, take ‘em out of their gated communities and suddenly they ain’t shit anymore.”

  “Here!” called out one of them, and he sounded very close to me. I whimpered and tried to withdraw further into the shadow, but the guy reached back and took hold of my arm. Dragging me out, he shouted, “I found the bitch!”

  The other three approached with grins on their faces. They were all stocky, muscular white men, two with cropped blond hair, a really tall one with long, stringy brown hair, and the one who held me had dark curls and darker eyes. He bent down to smirk in my face, and when I reached to hit him with my free arm, one of the blond men seized hold of it.

  “Damn, girly, you’re a stupid one. You really think you stand a chance against all four of us? You wanna die, bitch?” cursed the one with stringy hair. He spat on the ground and moved into the circle, squaring his shoulders. I got the impression that he was the leader.

  “Please let me go,” I murmured, choking back a sob. All of them laughed.

  “Not a fucking chance. Not until we’re done with you.”


  “How much money you got on you, slut?” demanded the dark-haired man. “Search her pockets, bro.”

  The two blond guys felt me up and reached into my back left pocket to find my wallet. I never carried much cash with me, and I only brought my card along for specific purchases, so it wasn’t present when they handed my wallet over to Stringy Hair.

  “What the fuck is this?” he swore. “Thirty bucks? I thought you said she was that bitch from the magazine!”

  The dark-haired man shook me angrily and shouted back in defense, “She is, dude! I recognize her! This is definitely Julie Mason’s kid. Shackin’ up with fucking Todd van der Hausen. Livin’ in a goddamn mansion.”

  “Where’s the money at, then? This is fucking nothing!” growled one of the blonds.

  “Shut up,” hissed the dark-haired man. Stringy waved his hand dismissively.

  “Whatever, dude. Doesn’t fucking matter. We can just hold onto her for a little while, do a ransom deal or something. Either way, she’s comin’ home with me.” Then, bending down to glare into my face, he asked in a faux-saccharine tone, “You a virgin, little girl?”

  I didn’t answer, too captive by fear to make any reply. He snorted. “That’s a yes.”

  More raucous laughter from the others. The dark-haired man thrust me into Stringy’s arms after some hesitation. “You gonna share her, man?”

  “Of course. It’s only fair, bro. But I’m gonna break her in for ya, get her warmed up, if you know what I mean,” Stringy said crudely.

  “Help!” I yelled at the top of my voice. A quick slap to my face shut me up.

  “Quiet, bitch. One more stunt like that and you’re dead. I’m gonna rip that virgin pussy apart, whether you’re awake for it or not,” he sneered, spittle flying into my face. I winced and shrugged my shoulder to wipe it away.

  “Let’s get out of here, man, before someone sees!”

  Stringy dragged me down the alley and out onto a cross street, heading in the opposite direction of my home. I struggled for a minute, until he leaned in and hissed in my ear, “If you fight me, I’ll fucking break your neck.”

  Tears soaked my shirt and hoodie and dampened my hair as we made our way along, keeping to the little, darkened side streets to avoid detection. Exhausted and overwhelmed with terror, I began to slip into a haze. How had this day escalated so steeply and violently? Was I dreaming? Would I ever see my mother again?

  From the depths of my clouded mind, another thought somehow prevailed: would I ever see Cole again? His face swam muddily at the forefront of my brain, and then as I sank into darkness, I heard his voice calling out… calling… to me.

  “Mackenzie!”

  Suddenly, I was jerked away and slammed into a wall as Stringy and the dark-haired man pinned me behind them. I blinked my eyes several times to try and make sense of what I was seeing. The two blond men had tackled a new stranger, who was dressed shabbily in jeans and a baggy t-shirt. He threw them off with an athletic ease, and in that instant he looked up and caught my eye—

  It was Cole!

  “Let go of her or I swear to god I will fucking kill you all,” he bellowed.

  “Ha! Got ourselves a little one-man justice league, huh?” cackled the dark-haired man.

  Over his shoulder I could see one of the blond men getting back up to clock him from behind and I rasped out, “Cole!”

  He swiveled around at just the right moment to catch the guy’s arms with his hands and shove him hard. The guy stumbled backward several feet and fell to the ground with a grunt. Then Cole took on the second blond guy who was running at him full-force. With a quick duck he managed to dodge the assault, spin around, and kick the guy in the side. I heard a sickening crunch and the guy went down, curled up and clutching his ribs. The dark-haired man went barreling toward Cole and made contact with a smack, trying to wrestle him to the ground with sheer weight.

  They fell tangled to the concrete, pummeling each other with violent punches. I sobbed and tried to wriggle loose, but the stringy-haired man gripped me tight, bruising my arms. He looked up and down the street and then threw me over his shoulder and took off running, leaving his cohorts behind to handle Cole. I kicked and screamed, hitting his back with my fists, without any apparent effect. I watched as Cole struggled to get free of the dark-haired man, and just as I began to lose hope entirely, he elbowed the guy in the face and broke loose to pursue Stringy.

  “MACKENZIE!” he cried, sprinting toward us. He was leaner than the stringy-haired man, but he was much faster, and he overtook us before long. Realizing he couldn’t fight back with me over his shoulder, Stringy threw me down and turned back to swing a heavy arm at Cole, who evaded it by mere centimeters. Still, I knew Cole was far outmatched by this titanic hulk of a man, and I scrambled to my feet, thinking maybe I could help somehow. My eyes darted around in search of some kind of weapon. Shaking, I picked up a palm-sized rock from the concrete rubble in the road nearby and pelted the back of Stringy’s hideous head. He turned around with murderous eyes and lunged for me. I shrieked in terror and fell backward. Just before Stringy could reach me, Cole kicked him hard in the backs of his knees, causing the huge man to buckle and fall. I rolled over and got quickly to my feet, looking to Cole for guidance in the split second before Stringy could recover.

  His lips mouthed the word, “RUN.”

  And so I ran, faster than I ever had, back toward the direction I came from, and Cole fell in step behind me. Taking my hand, he said, “My bike is just around the corner. Stay with me! Keep up! Just a little farther now!”

  I felt dizzy and nauseous as we bolted down a cross street and I saw a dark grey motorcycle waiting about a block away. My legs shook and I felt just about to collapse, but Cole deftly scooped me into his arms and kept running at the same pace. As my eyes rolled in my head, I managed to look back and see that Stringy couldn’t be more than ten paces behind. The blood rushed loudly in my ears and I began to lose consciousness as we approached the bike. Cole straddled the motorcycle, pulling my arms around to his chest.

  “Stay with me. I’ve got you, but you have to hold onto me, Mackenzie. You can do it, just hold on!” he reassured me urgently. With what strength I could muster, I dug my fingers into the thin material of his T-shirt and pressed my aching cheek against his back. There was a loud, thrumming vibration as he started the engine. I felt Stringy’s fingertips barely graze the back of my neck before we peeled out into the street at an almost-certainly illegal speed. I could hear, distantly, over the roar of the engine, the stringy-haired man yelling obscenities. His voice receded as we sped away. We rode on for what felt like hours, but was probably about fifteen minutes, until we slowed to a halt outside a vaguely historical-looking building with a dark green awning. Cole hopped off the motorbike and once again scooped me into his arms to carry me into the building, stopping only to swipe a card at the entrance. I closed my eyes for a moment and then opened them in an elevator, staring up at Cole’s strong jaw line, his full lips.

  I closed them again and didn’t reopen them until I felt him lower me onto a soft surface.

  A bed. His bed? I wondered idly. He disappeared for a few minutes and returned with a glass of water and an aspirin. I took both eagerly and sat up straight, my head swimming. He sat down in front of me, peering into my face with wide, glassy eyes. We sat this way in silence for awhile, as I sipped the water gingerly and he stared at me. Finally, he spoke, and his voice was so gentle, so soft, that it shocked me.

  “I am so sorry,” he started. “This is all my fault. I wanted so badly to save you that I pushed you into danger. I am so, so sorry, Mackenzie.”

  I didn’t respond, feeling suddenly so at ease. A warm, comforting relief washed over me. Suddenly, our conversation at the coffee shop didn’t seem to matter very much anymore. That was a problem for another day. Right now, in this moment, even with my aching cheek and my racing heart, I was oddly at peace. Cole took the water from me and set it on the nightstand, then leaned close to my
face to inspect the damage.

  “God. Did they hit you?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. I nodded. “Damn it!” he swore, and punched the side of the bed so that it rattled. He turned back to me and swiped a hand over his face.

  “You were just in time,” I said quietly. He perked up at the sound of my voice in a way that was almost childlike, it was so endearing. Cole’s eyes, just the exact shade as the shallow waters of the Pacific on a sunny day, passed slowly over every part of my face. He reached up to take my cheek in his hand, carefully, as though he was terrified of hurting me. I didn’t wince at the pain throbbing in my cheek. Instead, I leaned into it, into his palm, and closed my eyes.

  I heard him gasp lightly, and then another hand rose to caress my chin, my brows, my cheekbone. I opened my eyes again just as his thumb hovered over the curve of my lips. I breathed raggedly, my heart galloping in my chest.

  “Mackenzie,” he murmured. Before I could think better of it, my lips pursed to gently kiss his thumb, and I watched the color drain from his face and his jaw tighten.

  “Cole,” I whispered, “please.” I couldn’t put a word to what I was asking for, what I was begging for so earnestly, but it was there, and it hung suspended between us in the air. For a long minute we sat this way, paralyzed with the depth of what we were fighting for and against all at the same time. Finally, his hands moved slowly back to brush through my hair, and then he pulled me close and pressed his lips against mine. An electric thrill shot through my veins, loosening my muscles, seizing at my heart. Scarcely brave enough to move, I opened my mouth and moved closer, exhaling into the kiss. His fingers tangled in my hair and held me there a moment, then fell to my shoulders. He caressed my neck, running a soft fingertip along my collarbone and down across my breast. I shivered and took his face in my hand, stroking the stubbly outline of his jaw, then eagerly reaching to tug at his shirt.

  Suddenly he dropped his hands and broke away, recoiling as though I were some kind of venomous snake. There was something akin to horror in his eyes, but I glanced down and saw the bulge at the front of his jeans. “We can’t,” he mumbled, shaking his head slowly. “It would ruin you, Mackenzie. I can’t let you do this—I can’t let myself do this to you.”