by K. F. Breene
Fuck!
If I had only known it was there in the first place!
I sprinted to William, rock poised in the air, watching in horror as his large fist connected with Dusty’s face, over and over. His rage would not ebb.
I scooped the gun out of Dusty’s now limp hand. It was heavy, the grip rough on my palm. I pointed it at the ground, knowing Dusty was done. His face looked like a piece of uncooked steak.
Now the problem was the dangerously close cliff and the out-of-control William.
“William!” I screamed. “William stop!”
With the free hand I tried to pull him off, or slow him down. Tried to get him to stop before he was the one causing man-slaughter. I was sure Dusty didn’t have much longer.
That was when I heard it. A car. It skidded to a stop, rocks flying.
Fear shot threw me. No one knew we were here but Dusty and his friend, and Dusty had planned to share me. Gang rape?
I clutched the gun tightly, holding it up with both hands like I’d seen on TV, backing up in front of William. The headlights glared, blinding me, so all I could see were big shadows running around the car. One thing was for sure; they were men’s shadows!
“Stay back! I have a gun! I’ll shoot you where you stand!” I sounded so damn calm.
“JESSICA!” A man screamed. “Jessica, it’s me. It’s Adam. Jessica, lower the gun!”
Two shadows came toward me with hands in the air. The voice didn’t sound like Adam.
I squinted through the lights, conscious that there were only seconds left before William caved in Dusty’s head or went over the cliff. But Adam hadn’t known we were here, and if he had, he wouldn’t have shown up when his buddy planned on getting me naked. Stories weren’t connecting, and I would not be raped this night!
“How do I know? Prove it!”
“Jessie—it’s me…You won the dance off, Jessie. Willie pissed you off that night. He took you here to tell you he liked you. Lower the gun! It’s Adam.”
Blinking tears out of my eyes, I did. I lowered the gun, ready to raise it again if I had to.
The two large men burst into action. I very nearly did raise the gun again, my hand putting pressure on the trigger, when I saw a clear picture of Adam’s cowboy boots. There was no one else in the world that had boots that looked as worn in, ugly, but comfortable as those particular cowboy boots. I commented on them enough times to know.
“Oh thank God!” I cried. “Help Adam! Help! Get William off! He’ll kill him!”
The boys, the other I now saw was Moose, came rushing by me and grabbed William, each by a shoulder. William struggled and grunted, not wanting to let up on Dusty, then turning in mid-air to confront the new attackers. Moose went down like a sack of potatoes, William having connected with all his strength. Adam, seeing it coming, got a glance across the shoulder before he was able to wrestle William away, stalling long enough for Moose to jump back into the fray, both men needed to restrain a battle raged William.
A red haze still over me, I walked toward the piece of unfinished business. He hadn’t gotten far. Bent into a bush, rocking back and forth clutching his knee, the other man that planned on raping me was begging for aid.
I stood over him with the gun, half intending to pull the trigger. My bubble had long since burst and my head was swimming with the events of the past half hour. The unbelievable fear for William and myself. The hate at being the victim yet again. The injustice in the world that I was saved, but some women were not.
Seeing him there made me flash back to Dusty touching me. Dusty’s hands on my panties from the last time. The gun on my breast from earlier.
I could tell my sanity was ebbing but I didn’t care; I wanted blood. I wanted revenge. I wanted to kill him. I wanted killing him to take the pain away.
“Jessica,” I heard calmly behind me. It was William. “Jessica, that is not the way to do it. He isn’t going anywhere. He isn’t going to hurt you now. Lower the gun, baby.”
This man was bad. He was slimy and evil. This fucking man right here. He didn’t deserve life. He deserved my judgment.
“Jessica.” A calm but worried voice I barely recognized as William’s. “It’s over Jessica. You are safe. Please baby. Please come back to me. I almost lost you tonight. Please come back to me.” His voice cracked and I realized he was silently crying. I realized I was crying. I was broken. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
It was like a bucket of ice cold water dumped over my head. I blinked a couple times and realized I had walked right up to the man’s head and held the gun execution style. I would have pulled the trigger, of that I was certain, if not for William. I still wanted to. I still wanted revenge. I wanted blood so bad I could physically taste it, and it tasted good.
The shadows were creeping in darker than ever before.
“Please, baby,” William whispered.
It was the fear in his voice that sobered me. The fear I wouldn’t come back from this dangerous edge I was walking.
I lowered the gun and my head. The sobs came unbidden. My body wracked with the stress of the night, the misery at this happening again, and the thought that if anything had gone differently William, or I, or both would now be dead.
Before I could crumple to the ground William was there, holding me against him. Crying with me. Soothing me, petting me, looking in my face and kissing every inch.
“Never do that again, Jessica! You are to never sacrifice yourself for me again! Do you hear me? I could not live with that. Never again!”
We sank in a heap, my body firmly held in the arms of William. He was rocking me back and forth, trying to sooth me, kissing me, trying to ease my mind. All I could do was hold on and close my eyes. Tonight was more of a nightmare than I had ever experienced. Than I ever would, God help me. William as well.
The tires crunched as the Aston Martin turned into the Davies’ farm. I was crushed into William’s chest in the back-seat, my tears dried in black streaks down my face. I couldn’t shake the events of the night. I couldn’t turn my mind away from the feel of the gun, or the look of pain in William’s eyes.
After William had gotten the gun away from me, the police showed up, followed shortly by Tom and Scotty, the lawyer. Apparently William had a panic button on his phone—all the Davies kids did—and when Tom heard what was happening, he looked up the location via GPS and alerted the authorities, Adam and the lawyer. Adam and Moose got there first because they knew the location, helping the others by leaving flares at the turns.
Originally William had been trying to stall, waiting for help to arrive. That was before Dusty deciding he didn’t need to leave William alive. And it was clear when I looked back on it—Dusty had nothing left to loose.
It turned out he’d robbed a gas station then stole a car before he even made it to us. He’d planned to rape me, something I couldn’t think about without shivering, but hadn’t thought about William until he was faced with him. He probably thought the second man would take care of it, and when that didn’t work out, figured he would off us both and get the hell out of dodge. We’d been lucky. For me, that was twice. It was more luck than I usually had. I couldn’t help but think I was on borrowed time.
The worst thing about that night was being separated from William to tell my version of events. Scotty, being dynamite at his job, somehow made it so we didn’t have to head to the police station. He couldn’t stop the questioning, though, and he couldn’t keep William and I together. Or maybe he didn’t want to, because I was a poor mess of a girl as I stood in my brown blanket, makeup all over my face, hair disheveled, barefoot, because I was having a hard time balancing on heels in my state of disorder, and crying hysterically. I was probably the star witness. I was showing well in a lawyer’s eyes; there was not one man that didn’t want to pick me up and whisk me away to safety, cops included. I was treated with kid gloves throughout the questioning, had pictures taken of the extensive damage, and then given into Tom’s care without further
debate.
Tom then passed me off to Adam so he could look after his son. Adam nearly squeezed my insides out until it was Moose’s turn to hang on to me, and then I could barely breath.
They did finally finish with William. He’d done some serious damage to both Dusty and the other guy. Serious damage. The nameless guy would need surgery, but still might never walk properly on that leg again. Dusty nearly died. If I was a betting woman, I would say that was the reason Scotty made sure every cop there talked to me without William present. William was my strength—not Tom, not Adam, not Moose, certainly no cop. Without him, I was a shaking, terrified mess. Afraid one minute for my safety, afraid the next for William’s. Through my fear-induced haze, I could see the compassion on all the faces I talked to; they hated to see a woman look like I did. As men, those police would do anything in their power to stop it. Like William had.
Scotty knew what he was about, and to keep William safe, I would play my part. When I finally felt his arms again, though, I completely let myself go. I curled up into him and let my mind shut off into a catatonic stupor. I had nothing left.
I had a long list of terrible first dates, but this one took the cake. Absolute worst first date in history. Truthfully, I might never accept another date from William again.
“Wait Jess,” William said as I stepped out of the car.
It was then that I noticed the dog. Hard not to—it was huge. And a Doberman Pincher. Huge and scary.
“He needs to smell you.”
I nodded and waited patiently, no explanation desired. Icing—a dog bite. Who was I to say boo?
When William put his arm around me, I let him lead me toward the house on numb legs. Tom waited long enough for us to get in before he climbed back in the car.
“Do you want to go straight to bed, Jessica, or would you like to watch TV or something?”
“Can we get in the hot tub?”
“Anything you want, love.”
“Do you have any alcohol? Anything will do.”
“Of course. Champagne or something stronger?”
“Stronger.”
We stopped by the kitchen and got Scotch, then went out the door to the hot tub. We were met by two more of the same breed of dog. Apparently there was a pack of them, and were let loose to roam the property. I wondered if this was a normal thing, or a tonight specific thing.
William answered my question without me having to ask, “I breed Blue Healers and Doberman Pinchers. Blue Healers are suburb cattle dogs, so naturally I wanted to work with those. Doberman just plain fascinate me. They guard the ranch when we’re not here.”
He paused long enough for us to each unceremoniously strip our clothes and get into the tub. He poured the Scotch and floated in beside me, putting an arm around my shoulders.
“They are an extremely loyal breed and incredibly smart and trainable. However, you need to be firm on discipline and a commanding leader to earn their respect. A soft hand with a Dobie and the dog will walk all over you. Once you are their top dog, though, the alpha, they will lay down in traffic to see you safe.”
It occurred to me William was just talking to fill the silence, and it soothed me to hear his voice.
“A lot of people think they are mean and evil. And I supposed they would be to someone that is trying to do their master or family harm, but these dogs are playful big dopes most of the time. Great family dogs if the owner is responsible and knows the traits of the dog. Like any working dog, obviously.”
“What do you mean ‘working’ dog?”
“Oh, well dogs are bred for certain things. Labs are bread to retrieve ducks. Blue Healers to herd cattle. Doberman Pinchers are for protection, mostly. They were thought to’ve been bred originally by a tax collector in Germany for protection and companionship. So you always have to be careful with a dog that is bread to protect. That is why I let the dogs sniff you earlier. You being with me means your scent is a friend. To them, you are family. They will protect you like their pack.
“They’re majestic, though.” William started to get that faraway look he got when he was talking about the intellectual side of his pursuits. “If you get past the image they have in movies, they are extremely graceful dogs with an incredible overall agility. They love to wrestle, they fetch, they swim, they like to chew toys and carry stuffed animals around; they can be as peaceful and playful as a lab to their family, but when you are threatened they have more bite than bark.”
“But...isn’t that dangerous?” I asked, loving to be the devil’s advocate when he got going on his projects. I was pleased to talk about something that didn’t matter. Focus on something trivial. William was, too.
“It is definitely dangerous to robbers or criminals, and people that don’t treat them and train them properly. But if you teach the dog to be more social and less aggressive when they are young, then they remain only dangerous to those breaking into your house, or attacking you.
“My dogs have been trained to guard the ranch. We have a lot of expensive animals and equipment on this property; a Doberman can cover a lot of ground. Six Doberman, which is how many I have, can cover everything on the ranch of importance, and make it their priority. They will attack, but they will not kill unless one of my family’s lives are in danger. I was taught by a specialized trainer, working with the dogs, on how to control them, commands to initiate or stop—basically how to properly control them and make sure I was responsible enough for that kind of training for a protective dog. It was intensive. It wasn’t undergone lightly.”
“They can kill people?”
“All dogs can kill people. Mine are trained like a military dog. Which these dogs were used for in World War Two. You’ll see, though. They will be your best buddy in the world. They just want to hang out with their master and do whatever we do. They are really elegant dogs.”
We sat in silence for a while. Then, because I worried, in a small voice I asked, “William?”
“Yeah?”
“Will Dusty get out again? Do I have to worry about him or his friends coming after me again?” Tears filled my eyes at the thought.
William reflexively tightened his grip on me. “Scotty will see to it that he or his friends don’t get bail. I am not sure about anyone else, though. They’ll probably question Dusty about that probability, but I don’t know, Jess.” He sounded so sad and forlorn. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Okay? I won’t let it.”
I nodded mutely, the tears overflowing my eyes. I just leant my head on his shoulder and let the tears come. We sat that way long enough for our hands and toes to prune, our drinks largely untouched. We listened to the sounds of the night on a farm, which was amazingly peaceful; horses off in the distance whinny, cows moo, and an overall quiet settle on the night. It calmed my mind and let my thoughts get drowsy.
When I started to fall asleep I felt William put our drinks away, stand, and take me in his arms. I let him lift me out, climb out himself, and lift me again to carry me to the bedroom. It would have been sweet and romantic any other time, but now it seemed like I was folded in my blanket once again. I breathed deeply and closed my eyes, letting him take me where he may.
We were both naked as we went through the house, dripping on the floor. I could hear a dog padding after us, but paid no attention as we stopped in the center of the room. William set me down gently and dried me off, no concern for himself. Next he got a bottle of lotion off the dresser.
“Did you steal that from my house?” I asked in a daze, seeing the familiar label.
“I wanted your things stocked here so you wouldn’t run,” he said, trying for light and playful, and unable. The same held true for the smile I conjured.
My eyes started to overflow with his tenderness. Also with the fact that he was thoughtful enough to get all my hair and body products, and bring them here so I would be more comfortable. He wanted me around often enough to make it seem more like home.
My chest constricting, I reached up to kiss him,
needing his comfort. His body. But he backed off quickly. He wasn’t ready. He was trying to stay strong for me, to be the man society said he should be, but he needed his own safety blanket. He needed a way to assure himself that he could take care of me when there were so many ways to make that impossible. So many things that could go wrong. So many unknowns. I was not sure how these little gestures of brushing my hair, carrying me through the house, putting on lotion would help, but somehow they were, so I let him do whatever he needed.
He put lotion on my body, not going over my woman parts in any way differently than my arms. When he was satisfied I was smooth, he kissed the top of my head and asked that I wait there for him, he wasn’t going far. The dog, the largest in the pack, moved to follow its master, and was commanded to stay with me. Without one second of indecision, the dog padded back over, next to my legs, and sat down.
William came back carrying a large dog blanket. He still had not a stitch on him and I could see the play of his muscles under his tanned skin, his powerful body bending and twisting as he put the dog bed on the floor on my side of the room.
William’s eyes hit mine, finished with chores and unsure what to do next. He stood strong, but his walls were crumbling. He was losing the fight to stay strong. It was my turn to protect.
I crossed the room with quick, light steps, reaching up to rest a hand on his cheek.
“William,” I said, “you did everything in your power, more than most men would, and you kept me safe. You saved me.”
He shook his head as a stray tear leaked from his eye.
“There was nothing you could have done differently,” I went on. “You did everything right. Without you I would have—”
“No.” He squeezed his eyes shut, pain lancing his face. “Don’t.”
After a moment to collect himself, his eyes drifted open and he looked deeply into mine. Into me. It was an unnerving feeling. It was like he stripped away all my defenses and looked into the private areas where I stashed my secrets. The days of hiding things from him were over.