Crushing Misery

by Kinsey Taylor

  “What are you doing?”

  “Watching the movie with you while I wait for the popcorn to finish.”

  “Do you have to breath down my neck?”

  “Oh yeah, sorry about that.”

  The beep from the microwave sounds and he pushes off the back of the couch and is off. He can’t be doing things like that, or I won’t be able to keep my mind out of the gutter. Sitting back down, I watch as he places the popcorn bowl between us and am thankful for the much-needed distraction.

  I wake the next morning and panic sets in. We fell asleep on his couch together. I’m lying in his lap, and his hand is under my dress clasping my breast. I can’t move. I need to get out of here. I should have known better than to come back to his place with him.

  I try desperately moving away his hand, but he squeezes my chest in response. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love the feel of his hand against my breast. This is too much too soon for me. I grab his hand and pull it away. He stirs and opens his eyes.

  “I’m sorry. I need to leave now. I’ll call a cab and get out of your way.”

  He looks down at his hand; it’s now resting on my stomach. Pulling away, I notice the tent he has popped from his morning wood. Adjusting himself, he moves to get up. I watch him walk away slamming the door behind him. I look around for my heels and place them on my feet. I feel him even before I see him reentering the room.

  “I’m sorry, Kennedy. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on the couch with you. I’ll take you home. Nothing happened, though, I swear.” His voice is dripping in fear.

  “Can you please just take me home? I’m sure my sister and parents are freaking out by now not knowing where I am.”

  “Yes, of course. I texted Riggs last night, letting him know you were here, and we were hanging out watching a movie. I’m sure he passed that along to your sister.”

  Standing by the garage door, I wait for him to follow me. He runs back into his room changing into jeans and a t-shirt and throwing on a leather jacket. He walks over to me, and I can see he wants to say something, yet he doesn’t. He walks into the garage, and I follow behind him. He places the helmet over my head and secures the traps. He gets on, and I slide behind him.

  I’m not sitting as closely to him as I was yesterday; I’m so taken over by all these feelings racing through me. I don’t want to be close to him, but my body betrays me and yearns to be near his. He pulls me closer to him as he starts the engine.

  We pull up outside my house, and I jump off right away trying to get the helmet off. No such luck.

  “Here, let me do it.”

  I let him take it off, I turn bolting for my front door. He doesn’t try to stop me this time. I hear him rev the engine once and pull away as soon as I’m inside.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Corbin

  I pull into the West Coast Fitness parking lot, ease into a space and turn off the truck ignition. I reach for my phone as it starts to ring. Looking down, I see Jagger’s photo pop up indicating who’s calling. I almost dismiss it and send it straight to voicemail, but I haven’t talked to him since the week of Kennedy’s first run-in with Troy.

  “What’s up bro? How was your honeymoon, man? Spare me all the mushy sex details.”

  “Corbin, I don’t have time to chat. I need a favor, bro… I was supposed to be meeting my sister at her house right now, and I’m tied up at work and can’t make it. She is probably on her way there as we speak. It’s close to your house. You think you can swing by and help her?”

  “I just pulled up in front of West Coast, man.”

  “Oh, okay. Never mind. I’ll call someone else.”

  I let out a sigh. “This is for Kennedy isn’t it?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “What’s the address? I’ll do it. Fuck, you owe me.”

  “I know! I know, man! She’s been through enough, dude. I can’t let her down.”

  “I know, man, I got you on this one.”

  “The address is 16441 Mallory Drive.”

  “Alright man, I’ll call you when I’m done helping her.”

  I walk back over to my truck and slide in. The thought of seeing Kennedy again has me feeling excited yet anxious. I pull up the navigator on my phone and put in her address.

  How in the hell do I act around her now? She’ll be at her house with that douchebag. God, I hope she’s not there alone with him.

  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. If he even looks at her wrong, I’ll flip my shit. I'll never get the image out of my head of her with dark purplish bruises across her cheek and face. How he could hurt such a beautiful woman was beyond me. He took the ultimate vow to protect her. You don’t do that and end up treating such a lovely woman the way he has. It’s sickening.

  I think back to the way her curves called to me that night at Jagger’s wedding. I got lost walking in on her, being a witness to her shirt plummeting to the floor as she stood in front of me exposing those beautifully formed tanned breasts. Full, firm and perky, the girl’s rack was something out of a porn mag. My eyes roamed down her body, as I took in the tattoos cascading across her ribs. The scene was such a shock, and my eyes widened in amazement. That shit sobered me up. I still haven’t been able to get the image of her out of my fucking head.

  I should almost be there. The GPS says it’s just up ahead. Dude, this chick lives in the god damn boonies. Her neighbors are off in the distance and a quite a hike if she ever needed their help.

  Fuck! I can see her in the distance, and he has her by the damn neck in the front yard. Stepping on the gas, I drive as close as I can and slam on the brakes coming to a screeching halt as my truck skids sideways in the driveway. I shove my gearshift into park and fling my door open, running up the driveway yelling, “Let her go, motherfucker!! You’re dead.”

  He looks up in surprise and lets her go. All I remember is seeing her limp body fall to the ground. I watch her burst into a coughing fit struggling for air. I step past her right for him, and I yell over my shoulder to her, “Get in my fucking truck, Kennedy!”

  He lunges forward trying to hit me first. I slide to the right, making him miss me. I slap his hand away bring my hand up and around as I feel my fist connect with his face. I don’t remember much during the beating I’m giving him.

  I have gotten in many fights in my day, but this is different. I have no control over my anger. I see red, and again I feel like I let her down. She is different. Kennedy and her daughter have already been through enough recently. She only came here to retrieve her belongings, and he beat her. I feel something touch my shoulder, so I swing around, my hands coming up to strike. Kennedy screams, bringing her arms up in front of her face in a protective gesture.

  “No, please, it’s me, Corbin! Stop, he’s not moving,” she yells out.

  “Fuck, Kennedy. I’m so sorry.” I place my hands out, gently pulling her into my side, heading straight for my truck, open the door and place her in the passenger seat. I reach in and pull the seatbelt down, buckling her in. Looking over, I see the number he did on her face and yell, “Fuck!”

  She jumps in response. She has blood trickling down her face. She won’t even look at me. I take off my shirt and hand it over to her.

  “Hey,” I say. “You ok?”

  She keeps her head down and nods yes. I run over to the driver’s side, get in and start heading down the road.

  “Oh, God, Corbin! My purse is in the front seat of my car,” she yells.

  I place my foot on the brakes, turn my wheel to the left, and head back in the direction of her car. I run over to her car, reach in to get her purse, and see her camera bag in the back seat; I grab that, too. I find her keys and lock up her car.

  “NO!” I hear Kennedy scream.

  When I turn to see what caused her screams, something connects with my head. Falling to my knees, I fumble and drop her camera bag. I turn my head and see him holding a two-by-four in his hands. Jumping up, I quickly move into action. I swing my leg around
and sweep his legs out from under him. He falls to the cement as I reach over and pull him up by his shirt and punch him repeatedly in the face. He flops down landing on his back and doesn’t move. I turn and walk over to pick up her bag on my way. I hop up into my truck, put it in reverse, then pull around and head down the street.

  “Man, he must have done a number on my face. I can barely see through my eye, and it hurts like a son of a bitch,” she says to me.

  We drive in silence the rest of the way to the hospital. She is sobbing into my shirt, so I reach over and place my hand over hers and squeeze it ever so gently. We pull up into the emergency parking lot. She looks over at me, and, God, my heart aches for her. I fucking want to kill this dude for hurting her. She gasps.

  “You’re bleeding.”

  “Am I?” I rub along the side of my head and wince as blood covers my hand.

  “I’ll be okay. Let’s get you inside and get you looked at, ok? I will be here with you the whole time. I promise I won’t leave your side. You got it?”

  Nodding yes to me, she tries getting herself together.

  “I am so tired.” She lays her head on our hands.

  “Hey, Boss, you can’t fall asleep because you may have a concussion.”

  I call Jagger and fill him in on what has happened. I try to calm down the fool.

  “What the fuck, dude!” he yells at me over the phone.

  “Calm down. I’m here with her now.”

  He is protective of his sister, which I get, but he sometimes goes a little overboard.

  “I won’t let a hair on her head be harmed again, trust me Jag. The police might be looking for me, though. I beat his ass. We just pulled up to the hospital, so I need to go. I won’t leave her, but you should call your parents and let them know. I need to get her inside because she’s falling asleep on me, and she could have a concussion. I’ll text you when I know what’s going on.”

  Hanging up, I place the phone in my pocket, and I scoop up Kennedy into my arms. The sensation I feel every time we connect is magnetic. It’s something I have never felt before and can’t explain. Kennedy snuggles into my chest. I love the feeling of her in my arms and having her pressed up against me.

  Kennedy opens her eyes looking up at me smiling and says, “Thank you.”

  I nod and feel my throat constrict with emotions of loss from long ago. As I carry her into the ER, the nurse behind the desk starts her interrogation, and Kennedy passes out cold. I try waking her as the nurse asks me what happened.

  “She needs help,” I say. “Her abusive fucking husband did this to her when she went to pick up her and her daughter’s stuff. Please, help her.”

  A nurse comes around from the back, and she smiles at me.

  “Follow me, and we will get her in a room right away. What’s her name?”

  “Kennedy Anderson.”

  They get her all hooked up and run a few tests. I get asked a lot of questions about her, but I don’t know all the answers. I almost flip my shit when they take her from the room to get a CT scan. I know the staff here is only checking to make sure there is no swelling on her brain, but protecting her is my only thought. I run out to the car to get her purse hoping I can give them more information. I give them her social security number in hopes that will help. Her mom comes rushing in with Ashlynn. Ashlynn calls out my name and comes running over to where I sit. She climbs into my lap and holds onto me so tight.

  “Where my mommy at?” she questions.

  This little girl is going to break the wall I have up around me; she’s already stolen my heart.

  “They took her to get a CT scan. It checks to make sure she doesn’t have swelling around her brain. She still hasn’t woken up.” I mostly say to Mrs. Finley.

  Kennedy’s mom has tears in her eyes; she turns to me and says very softly, “Thank you so much for coming to her rescue and for being here, Corbin.”

  All I can do is nod my head. What do you say to something like that?

  “They asked me a bunch of questions I didn’t know. But after they took her for the scan, I ran out to my truck and gave them her social in hopes they can find out more.”

  “Thank you. I will give them anything they’re missing.”

  A knock on the door comes, and two uniformed officers open the door and walk into the room.

  “Is this Kennedy Anderson’s room?”

  Mrs. Finley answers them, “Yes it is. What can I help you with?”

  “We need to speak with her.”

  “As you can see she’s not here. She is getting a scan of her brain right now, and is still unconscious.” I say annoyed.

  “We’ll be back.”

  Ashlynn starts to squirm nervously in my lap as she eyes the officers and turns in my arms, tightly holding onto me.

  The click of the door sounds.

  “It’s going to be okay, beauty. I’m here and won’t let anything happen to you.” She pulls back and looks up at me closely.

  “Why you call me dat?”

  “Huh?” I say.

  “Why you called me booty?”

  Oh, I laugh out loud.

  “Because you are so very beautiful.”

  “Oh.” She smiles and settles back down on my chest and grabs ahold of the hospital shirt the nurse has provided. The bleeding has stopped on the side of my head, but the nurse says I will need a couple stitches. She cleans it up and sticks a bandage over it. Nothing I’m not used to in my line of work.

  Mrs. Finley comes over and says,

  “Ashlynn, do you want to come with Momo and get something to eat?”

  She jumps out of my lap and runs right for her Momo.

  “I’m going to take her downstairs. Would you like a cup of coffee, Corbin?” she asks me.

  “Yes, please, ma’am.”

  “Can you have someone let me know if anything changes? Bruce should be here soon.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I will make sure, and don’t worry, Mrs. Finley, I won’t leave her side. You have my word on that.”

  She takes a few steps towards me and places her hand on my shoulder squeezing it and says, “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for her and our family.”

  I look at her in understanding.

  “You come with us, Corbee?” Ashlynn asks.

  “No, sweet pea, he’s going to stay here and wait for your mommy to come back, okay?”

  Mrs. Finley picks her up as she nods. I watch Ashlynn lay her head on Mrs. Finley’s shoulder as they head out the door. I sit down placing my head in my hands and everything from today hits me like a ton of bricks. What if Kennedy doesn’t pull through this? What if I lose the first person I have given a shit about in a long time?

  Thoughts of Landry fill my mind, and moisture builds and starts to pool and trickle from the corner of my eyes. I look down at my hand where a single tear has fallen and let myself feel for the first time in too many years. The door swings open as the nurse wheels in a battered sleeping Kennedy. I wipe at my eyes and pull myself back together. She looks peaceful even with the bruises and damage to her face; there is no doubt she is still gorgeous.

  “Has she woken up at all?” My voice sounds broken with pain.

  The nurse looks around the room before answering me.

  “No, she hasn’t. I’m sorry,” she says. “Where did your little girl run off to?”

  “She went with her grandmother to get something to eat,” I answer.

  “That’s probably a good idea to get her out of this room. That little girl sure adores you. It’s nice to see after all the deadbeat dads out there.”

  I look at her in surprise and smile up at her.

  “I should go let her mom know she’s back. Will you please stay with her until I get back?”

  “I can go check the waiting room and let her know for you if you’d like?”

  “That would be great. I would appreciate that, thank you.”

  She smiles and walks out of the room. I walk over to Kennedy’s be
d and gently take her hand in mine. It’s so delicate and soft. Her fingers jump and start to twitch. I look up wishing her eyes open.

  “I’m here Kennedy, and I swear as God as my witness, I will never let anything happen to you again. I can’t lose another person I care about. It would be the end of me.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kennedy

  The distant rumble of Corbin’s voice pulls me to consciousness. As I strain to understand his words, I feel the warmth of his hand clasped over mine. His voice washes over me like a protective blanket. I try forcing my eyes open, but they don’t budge. I want so badly to thank him for saving me, but all I can do is lie here listening to the desperation of his voice pierce the depths of my soul. He barely knows me, yet he seems to really care.

  Who did he lose, that he doesn’t want to experience that kind of pain again? I take in his words, slowly blinking my eyes open. The lights are too bright, so I close them again.

  “No, open your beautiful eyes, Boss. I need to see those baby blues.”

  I hear him and reopen my eyes and feel him squeeze my hand tighter. We stay this way staring at one another as I blink a few more times.

  “There you are. Welcome back, Boss,” he says his smile reaching his eyes. This man has been a real friend to me, and he looks at me like he actually sees me. My warrior, my protector. What an amazing man he is.

  I must look a mess too. I reach up feeling around my left eye; it’s not as swollen as I remember. Moving my hand lower I brush lightly over the bandage across my cheek. I run my hand down to my neck, gently assessing the damage from Troy’s vile hands.

  He caresses my hand and says, “Don’t worry, it will heal.”

  “Is it as bad as it feels?” I ask.

  “No, even like this, your beauty shines through.”

  I laugh and wish I wouldn’t have.

  “Oww. My face hurts.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you laugh,” he says.

  “It’s okay, but I don’t believe you, Playboy.”