My back muscles tense and I resist the urge to run to the bathroom. I walk, trying to seem calm. I need an excuse to end the party, to force him out with everyone else. Then I need to be alone.
Why did Ally and Rain both have to find boyfriends and never be around anymore? I mean, I understand that they don’t want to be at all of my singles parties, but I wish they were here now. Then again, they’d see my Mike problem, which I’ve hidden so well, so maybe not.
Someone knocks on the bathroom door, startling me. My heart jumps out of my chest and it takes a few breaths to calm down. No way I’m letting Mike in the bathroom. I refuse. He can’t hurt me in here if I don’t let him in.
But he could start saying shit out there. Shit I don’t want anyone, especially the Neanderthal, to hear.
I’m impervious. I’m strong. No one needs to know otherwise, not till I figure out how to fix this.
“Dollface? It’s Geoff. You okay?”
I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. I open the door. “What?”
“You okay? You looked freaked back there. Who’s that dude?”
“No one,” I say, grabbing a tissue to wipe under my eyes where my mascara has run because of my stress, and not because my eyes were watering. “Don’t worry about it.”
The bathroom door shuts behind me, and he backs me against the sink. “No.”
“No what?” I say, exasperated. I push against his shoulders fruitlessly. “You men are all the same. Never listening to us, never taking no for an answer. We don’t want you, don’t you get that? We don’t want you!” I cry out.
He steps back, eyes widening slightly. He reaches out with a hand but I shrink back. “Hey…”
“No, no no no,” I mutter, folding my arms around me, trying to get warm. “I said no, that’s no.”
“Yes, that’s no,” he says, staring at me like I’m fragile. “No should always be no. I know that more than anyone. If you want me to leave, if you really want me to leave, tell me. I’ll go, Dollface, in an instant.”
I think about it, about being alone with Mike and mostly strangers, and shake my head.
“Come here,” he says, coming forward.
I don’t move back, and he wraps his arms around me, pulls me in close, and puts a hand over my head to pull me to his chest. “Shh, it’s okay.”
It’s completely non-sexual. I’ve never been held like this. It calms me. I rest against him.
“You’re safe now, Dollface.” He strokes my hair, almost like a father, or a brother. “I got you.”
I breathe out, then in, trying to count longer on each to calm down. How stupid of me for almost losing it.
Still, I never expected him to be able to hold me like this. Gently, reassuringly. I didn’t know men could be like this. It feels good. No, it feels amazing.
After a moment, he pushes me gently back against the counter so he can look in my eyes. “Now, what’s wrong? You can tell me.”
I open my mouth, and for a moment I think I can tell him, but I can’t. I just can’t. “Nothing, I was just having one of those days.”
His eyes narrow again, making him slightly scary. “I know that look Amy. I don’t like knowing it, but I do. Tell me what he did.”
“He didn’t do anything. Not really. Don’t worry about it.”
“Tell me before I start assuming things and go out and kill him.”
I laugh quietly, expecting it to be a joke, but I can tell from how tensed his face is, how dark his eyes are, that he’s deadly serious.
“Geoff, it’s not your business.”
“I want it to be,” he says, running a hand over his shoulder.
“We don’t always get what we want.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” he says, looking away again, that odd look in his eyes that he had the other day when he said the same thing, after I said that men just needed to be better. What happened to give him that look?
“I need to go back out. I’m being a bad host.”
He blocks the door. “Not yet. Tell me who he is.”
“He’s not someone who should be out with my guests.”
“Then he’s not someone who should be with you either. Or here at all.” He stares at me for confirmation, when he gets it, his face hardens and he cracks his knuckles. “That’s it, I’m throwing him out.”
He storms out of the bathroom, taking long strides I’m not fast enough to keep up with. He reaches Mike, who’s sitting alone on the sofa with a dark look on his face, and literally grabs him by the neck, hauling him to his feet.
“What the fu—” Before Mike can finish his sentence, he’s being dragged by the collar to the front door. He scrabbles at his neck and kicks his legs, but can do nothing against the huge caveman determined to dispose of him. Geoff grabs a can of something off the table as he passes it, Mike still dangling from one hand, and drinks it as he goes.
A Neanderthal with enough strength to grab refreshment as he drags another man out of his cave.
I’m too stunned to even roll my eyes.
He gets to the door, has to drop something to open it, and drops Mike, who starts to scrabble away. Geoff stops him by stomping a foot down on his chest, opens the door, and grabs him by the collar again.
“Oopsie daisy,” he says, chucking him hard onto the porch.
“You’ll pay for that,” Mike says, coming forward, rubbing his neck, trying to be threatening. “My dad’s a lawyer.”
“Hm,” Geoff says, walking forward, taking a sip out of his can. “Then he should probably know the implications of his son being charged with stalking.” Geoff squats on his heels and stares Mike in the eye. Mike stumbles back on his hands, crawling back like a crab. “Or even, attempted sexual assault.”
Mike’s eyes narrow and he looks at me.
Geoff follows Mike’s gaze to me, and the can makes a creaking noise as he squeezes it. “So I was right?” He tosses the can away. “Oh man, you’re dead,” he says quietly, almost too quietly for me to hear.
I grab his arm. “No, you’re wrong, he didn’t do anything.” Which is true. He didn’t get to, because of Rain and Knight.
Mike gets up and trips once trying to run away. Then he gets up and runs again. He gets to his car, gets in, and peels out.
People are gathering at the door, and Geoff pushes to a standing position and goes through them, brushing off his hands. “Nothing to see here folks. Just your friendly douchebag disposal service.”
A shocked silence, then a few cheers, amongst some murmurs.
“Hey guys, I think party’s over. Let’s all head out and let Amy get some sleep,” he says.
A couple people give me curious looks and I smile awkwardly at them.
Most awkward party I’ve ever had, and the only one Geoff has been to. I knew it.
Everyone trails out under Geoff’s watchful stare. When they’re gone, and I shut the door after hugging the last of them, I look back to see Geoff holding a trash bag, scooping up cans and napkins and throwing them inside.
“Stupid shits. This is why I don’t hold parties. They eat your food and leave shit everywhere,” he grumbles.
It’s kind of funny, seeing someone so huge cleaning your living room. He stands when he realizes I’m watching, but doesn’t set the bag down. He swishes hair off his forehead with a shake of his head.
His hair is thick and healthy and untamed, but coarse. I wonder how it feels.
I still don’t know how to feel about today, so I slump on the couch, my hands over my face. At least Mike is gone. Someone made Mike disappear, and I don’t care if it’s the Neanderthal. I’m so glad. He did what I would have done to Mike ages ago if I had the guts.
He sets the bag down and comes over to slump on the couch next to me.
“That was hilarious,” I say, eyes watering with mirth as I remember the way he took a can while dragging Mike to the door. “So relaxed you could take a drink while you were at it.”
He’s quiet, and I look over to
see him sitting forward, hands between his knees, face intense. Hair hanging down. “I would have done something sooner, I kept looking at you, waiting for you to give me the go ahead. I could tell you weren’t happy.”
“So that’s what that look was,” I say.
“Yeah, I wanted to protect you, but I had to make sure you wanted to be protected first.”
“Thanks for your help. And for staying so relaxed.”
He frowns. “I wasn’t relaxed.” He murmurs something after that but I can’t hear it.
“What was that?”
“I wasn’t relaxed,” he says, his voice deep. It takes on a strained quality as he continues. “I just had to keep myself distracted, so I didn’t go overboard.”
“Overboard like how?”
“Kill someone, maybe.”
Cold washes over me. Like he means it. He’d really kill someone. “Kill someone?”
He cracks his knuckles, and I swear that hard of cracking can’t be good. His expression is dark, and partially hidden by his hair. More cracking. Crack, crack, crack. It has to hurt.
I reach for him, pull hair out of his face, and what I see scares me.
Pure violence. Hatred. Anger. None of the relaxed, teasing, oaf I’ve come to know over the past year or so. “Hey, you okay?”
He takes a deep breath, his chest slowly expanding, for so long I swear no one can hold that much air, and then he lets it out. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry if I ruined your party.”
“You didn’t. Mike did.”
“So you’ll invite me again?”
I put a finger to my lips, as if I have to think about it. “Maybe. You did entertain people more than anyone I’ve had.”
A smile finally appears on his strained face, and he sits back, releasing his hands. I take one of them, rub it once before setting it back on his leg. I want it to relax, I don’t want him to hurt it anymore. Either of his hands.
“Thanks Dollface.”
“That name is ridiculous.”
”Says you,” he says. “I like it.” He sits forward and studies his hands, but doesn’t crack them, thank goodness. “You gonna tell me about that guy?”
“There’s not much to tell.”
His eyes darken as his lashes lower in frustration. “You still don’t trust me?”
“I don’t trust men.”
He sighs. “You just don’t get men. Men are like women. Some bad, some good.”
Wow, pretty enlightened, coming from a pig.
“Then again, you gotta watch out more for men when they go bad. They can go real bad.”
”I know.”
“But that’s why you gotta let the good ones help. Gotta let us know what we can do.”
“That just seems sexist.”
“Maybe, but other than Ally, with a few exceptions, it would take a dude to deal with another dude.” He interlocks his fingers tightly. It looks painful again. I want to sooth him, but he’s still kind of my arch nemesis. The enemy of everything female, or at least the opposite.
“Stop hurting your hands.”
“Ha ha. Habit,” he says. “Good distraction.”
“And what’s bothering you?”
He sits back one more time, like he can’t find any comfortable position and has just given up, and runs a hand through his hair. “I just. I can judge people real well. I can like, see into them. He hurt you, I can see it. I can’t, I can’t stand when men hurt women,” he says, pulling on his hair.
“Stop it,” I say, reaching for his hand, trying to pull it away. “I’m okay. Nothing’s wrong.”
“I just can’t fucking STAND IT.” He pulls harder. His eyes are wide and hard, and he’s not with me any more. I don’t know how to sooth him, how to pull him out of it.
He saved me tonight. Maybe I’ll save him, just this once.
I sit up on my knees and kiss his cheek.
His eyes widen further, and then his face relaxes. He sinks a heavy arm around me and pulls me down against me. “You’re all right, Dollface.” He rubs my hair with his knuckles, and once again I feel like I’m being treated like a little sister somehow. “You’re all right.”
I rest my head against him and wonder if things will go back to normal when we’re at work again in the morning.
Chapter 3
Geoff is on my mind today. The way he pulled at his hair when he said he couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand what?
He’s talking to Knight, back to me, arms folded, stance closed off, and Knight’s nodding.
Last night I nodded off against him. I woke up alone on the couch. He must have left, which is the appropriate thing to do of course. But still…it doesn’t seem like him, given how much he seems to want to get in my pants.
I don’t actually know much about him. I guess he went to my school, but we’re in such different groups it’s not even weird that I don’t know him at all. I don’t remember seeing him at all.
I practice my double whistle quietly a couple times to myself while I sit at the guard room table and wait for Knight to tell me which rotation I’m on. I drop the whistle back around my neck and stare out the window at Geoff’s back again. So broad, so wide. Weird.
Knight suddenly looks up and catches me watching, and I duck back down and turn away so I don’t look snoopy. I can’t help it though. I’m a snoopy person.
I peek up again. Geoff and Knight bump fists and Geoff heads off towards the hot tub while Knight starts in my direction.
Shit.
Was it because I was watching? Or because I’m in trouble for something? In some ways, Knight is like an older brother. In other ways, he’s a huge pain in the ass. But maybe that’s the same thing as being a brother. I’ve never had one, so I wouldn’t know.
My house is a testosterone-free zone.
The door swings open, sending cool, humid pool air into the break room. It smells like Chlorine, with a faint hint of bleach from cleaning the deck tiles.
“Amy?”
“Yeah,” I say, sitting up and tucking in my guard tank.
“Can I talk to you?”
“Sure.” I stand hesitantly. Knight’s amazingly blue eyes are serious.
“In my office.”
“Okay…”
I follow him out reluctantly, mentally dragging my feet but keeping a brisk pace with perfect posture outwardly. Never let them see you squirm.
Knight pulls a rolling chair over and motions for me to sit. I glance at the clock, and then out at the deck.
“Do we have time for this?” I say, because first rotation is starting in 5 minutes.
“I’ll start you on break.”
“But—”
“Rotation can wait.”
I plop in the chair and then remember to sit up straight. I put my arms on the arms of the chair to prop myself up. I’m tired after last night. I roll my shoulders back in a mild stretch.
“So I was talking to Geoff about you.”
My eyes widen. “Me? Why me?”
“He said you two had an interesting experience the other night.”
“Uh.” Oh no, because I invited Geoff to my party? Or because I kissed his cheek? Or because he got in a fight because of me?
“He said you saw Mike.”
“Oh,” I say. Knight’s eyes turn soft with concern, and I’m jealous again that Rain got him and not me. I’m also a bit jealous that he got Rain and not me, but oh well.
“I’m worried about you Amy. Geoff is too.”
I shrug. “It’s fine. He won’t do anything.”
“Sounds to me like he already did.”
I stare up at Knight with narrowed eyes. He sits there, impossibly tall, built, and strong. What does he know about being afraid? What could he possible know about threats, or stalkers, or harassment?
It’s so easy for people like Geoff and Knight to pass judgments on what I should or shouldn’t do, or should or shouldn’t worry about. Or if I should or shouldn’t tell.
They aren’t the ones w
ho have to be afraid of repercussions.
Knight doesn’t say anything, but I know what he’s thinking. That if I had just been willing to pursue charges against Mike when everything happened last year, maybe none of this would be happening. But then again, he got off even though Rain and Knight both told the cops what happened, so maybe nothing would be different.
No one could prove there was anything in my drink. No one could prove Mike wasn’t just defending himself because Rain misunderstood and overreacted.
We were just glad he didn’t go on to press charges against Knight for assault.
At least I was, until he started showing up at my house. Or by my car in the parking lot. At first, not that close. Just in the distance, watching.
And when I thought I could get used to the routine of him being there, he’d disappear, for months even, as if it’s all one big game of control and his goal is to keep me always off balance.
Maybe that’s why I hate Geoff’s teasing. It’s the same thing. Trying to make me nervous, knock me off my game, threaten me, even to a lesser extent.
“Amy?” Knight says.
“Yeah?”
“What do you think we should do?”
I shrug again, brush imaginary loose hairs into my already perfect ponytail. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I mean, what should we do to keep you safe?”
“We do nothing. He’s done nothing, we do nothing. Besides, he’s never been confronted. Maybe he’ll back off after what Geoff did.”
“Amy, someone like that, you know it’s only a matter of time.”
“He just wants to scare me.”
“And it’s working,” Knight snaps, leaning forward, “if you’re unwilling to fight him because you’re afraid to confront him.”
“You can’t send someone to jail for scaring you.”
“I don’t want to give him the chance to do something that deserves going to jail.”
“I…” I have no retort. “I’m sorry Knight. But it’s my business. Not yours.”
He puts a hand over his face. “It’s my fault. I should have made sure he paid for what he did to you and Rain.”
“Knight.” I want to reach forward and put my hand on his shoulder, do something to comfort him, but I feel locked away in an icy cage, the way I always do when I’m defensive or afraid. I can’t connect with people like this, because I don’t want to show or admit any emotion on my end.
Stronger Page 3