by J. M. Paul
Where is Bax?
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” The tallest guy stepped closer.
Both thugs kept advancing while I kept retreating until I found myself backed against the clown, his nose pinching against my back. I had nowhere to go.
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here, all alone? It seems like someone so…small could find herself some trouble,” the taller guy said.
“I think she did, brother. I think she did.” The short guy sent the tall guy a sneer.
Their heads bobbed in silent agreement of…what?
My eyes darted back and forth between them before I searched the area again, looking for Bax.
As the guys leaned in, I tried to yell for help, but my throat was lodged with fear. I was too full of flashes from the past and my present nightmare to release a sound.
“Relax, mama. We just want to play.” Tall Guy lifted his hand and ran his finger down my cheek.
I turned my head away from his unsettling touch. “Please stop.” My voice was so weak that I wasn’t sure he’d heard me because he trailed that dirty finger down my neck to the collar of my black T-shirt and tried to dip it lower. My hand sprang up and knocked it away. “Don’t touch me.”
“Now, now. Don’t get sassy. There are two ways this can work—the easy way or the hard way. You pick, mama.” Short Guy pressed his bony body against my side.
Finally, my lungs and throat cleared, and I screamed out before I struggled to break free. I balled my fists and got one pathetic jab to Tall Guy’s shoulder before he gripped my throat in his hand, cutting off my plea. Short Guy pressed me harder against the clown. I had nowhere to go.
Flashbacks of Joel flitted through my mind and made me slide into a dark place where I had learned I could protect myself. If I couldn’t get out of their hold, I would at least get out of my head.
My body went limp as I gave up and whimpered to myself. This wasn’t who I wanted to be, but I didn’t know how to be strong. Over the years, my mind, body, and soul had been beaten down and were beyond fragile. This situation solidified the fact that I was a magnet for trouble. Everything about me was dirty and bad, and I deserved whatever I was about to get.
Please let it be fast. Please just let it be fast.
“You’re a filthy little whore, aren’t you?” Tall Guy was so close that I could feel the puffs of air against my lips. His breath smelled like garbage, fish, and sour liquor.
I remained quiet, and the hand on my throat slammed my head back until it made contact with the surface behind me.
“Aren’t you?” he raged. “Answer me, bitch.”
“N-n-no.” I wasn’t a whore, not even close. But my body…I had been told my body screamed for sex, and anything that begged that loudly deserved to get what it asked for.
The guy smashed my skull against the clown two more times. Everything went blurry before it came back into focus. For some reason, I fixated on Tall Guy’s crooked teeth. I couldn’t bring myself to look into his eyes. I had stared into the window of hell before, and I knew it would bring me nothing but trouble.
“Try again, mama. Think very carefully about your answer, or I’ll make you pay.” Tall Guy gritted his teeth and snarled. “I’ll ask again.” He squeezed my neck tighter. “Are you a whore?”
No! Why can’t anyone see that I just want to be left alone until I die? I want to be good, pure, and invisible. Why am I soiled, broken, and visible?
Because my past indiscretions need to collect their debt.
I squeezed my eyes closed against the pain the truth brought.
I deserve this. I deserve this and so much worse.
Tall Guy banged my head back again. The dull pain that gripped the back of my skull intensified and wrapped around my entire head, gripping until I thought it would burst.
“Ye-yes.” It was barely a whisper. I didn’t believe I was a whore, but I would say almost anything if they would quit talking and let me become numb.
“I think I heard a yes, Sammy.” Short Guy leaned in closer, so both their faces were in mine. “You know what that means?”
“I do,” Sammy answered as he shoved his pelvis into my stomach.
I felt something hard and hot push against my soft flesh.
No, no, no.
Sammy’s free hand went to the waist of my cargo pants and fiddled with the button. My eyes popped open in panic. He was having difficulty with getting it unlatched with only one hand.
I squirmed, finding little strength within myself, when Short Guy pulled my hair hard. It caused a sharp pain to stab through my head. I cringed and felt faint from Sammy’s hold strangling me. My body went limp.
“We’ll make this harder on you, whor—”
Sammy was suddenly gone, and then Short Guy disappeared.
As soon as their bodies weren’t pressed against mine, I slithered down onto the broken pavement beneath my feet. My hands went to my sore neck, and I tried to gasp in air. I was dizzy, faint, and exhausted.
When I was able to inhale a few shaky breaths, I lifted my heavy lids to see Bax pounding Sammy’s face, blood squirting from the guy’s nose. When Sammy fell to the ground from a blow, Short Guy started to charge toward Bax from behind.
“Bax,” I tried to yell out in warning, but my throat was closed off, and it came out as a croak.
Bax turned in time to push Short Guy back several feet and then advanced on him. After some scuffling, Short Guy got one punch to Bax’s ribs.
“That’s your one,” Bax said.
Then, he smashed the thug in the face. The skin above the guy’s right eye busted open, and blood started gushing down his cheek.
“You fucking asshole.” Short Guy lifted his hand to his injury.
He rushed toward Bax again when Sammy rose from his crumpled position on the ground to join in on the tussle.
The sight of all the blood mixed with my adrenaline and lack of oxygen made my stomach woozy, and my head felt like it was floating. My body tilted sideways, the concrete getting closer and closer, before everything went black.
I remained motionless but slowly opened my eyes to determine if I was in danger.
Over the last couple of years, I had become accustomed to waking up in compromising positions. I had learned that it was sometimes easier or safer to act like I was asleep because then maybe I would be left alone. Or, if nothing else, I wouldn’t have to engage in the situation.
In the dim light, I noticed I was in the backseat of our van, and my head was resting on someone’s firm but warm lap. Gentle fingers slowly brushed through my hair, putting me at ease. I closed my eyes again and relished the brief moment of peace. It was rare, if not unheard of for me.
The sensation of fingers massaging my sore scalp made my toes curl, and a small purr escaped before I could prevent it. I was starved for positive affection and touch even if it brought uncertainty and the knee-jerk reaction to run.
I fought against my instinct to flee, and I inhaled. Bax’s musky cologne mixed with the outdoors hit my system and relaxed me. The scent caused unthinkable reactions inside my body, effects I had no idea how to interpret.
“You okay?” he whispered into the silence.
I dream of a day when I can answer yes to you, Bax, and actually mean it. But today isn’t that day.
Slowly, I sat up and looked around. We were, in fact, in the van, and from what I could tell, it was still parked in the deserted neighborhood outside of Six Flags.
Suddenly, the memories of what had happened right before everything went black came rushing back in a torrent of flashes—being strangled, thinking the two thugs were going to hurt me, Bax fighting like a pro, and the goons both stampeding toward him right before the scene faded.
“Are you okay?” I tried to inspect his face, but it was too dark to see if any harm had been done.
“I’m fine.” Bax shifted.
“You were being attacked when…when I must have passed out.” I leaned closer, tryi
ng to determine if there was any bruising or swelling I could see by the muted dashboard light.
Bax must have turned the ignition on because the gauges were lit, and soft music was playing in the background. I heard the lyrics to “Litost” by X Ambassadors swirling around the cab of the vehicle.
Bax set the cell I hadn’t noticed he was holding on the seat beside him. “I know how to protect myself.”
“But there were two of them. And they were both coming at you…” I squinted, trying to ascertain if there were any visible signs of damage. I couldn’t see any, but that didn’t mean anything. The lighting was crap. “Did they hurt you?”
“I let them each get a shot in. You have to let them get one punch, or they get uncontrollable.”
I saw a cocky small grin grace his mouth.
“You let them hit you?”
“I grew up fighting.” He shrugged. “I know how to get myself out of some pretty questionable situations.” He glanced at his phone when it chirped. As he blew out of his nose, he flipped it over, so the screen was facedown.
He grew up fighting? I’d have to ask him about that later.
I exhaled. “What happened?”
“I was taking pictures inside a building, but the light faded. When I came out, the sunset was breathtaking—bright orange and pink with the rides and roller coasters in the background. I walked to where you’d said you’d be, so we could take advantage of the setting, but I couldn’t find you. When I searched down that alley, I saw the two assholes had you restrained. You weren’t moving or struggling.”
In the shadows, I could see he’d clamped his eyes shut and clenched his fists, probably remembering what he had witnessed. I could only imagine what it had looked like. What I had looked like.
“You had given up, Libby.” His lids popped open, his gaze pinning me. “Why didn’t you fight?”
Because I deserve every bad thing that happens to me and more.
Nothing I could say would make anyone understand what I had been through, why I was the way I was, or why I had given up struggling years ago. So, I had quit trying to tell people, to explain, to search for the reasons and the answers. There were none. There was no fighting fate. My earlier choices in life had laid the brick path of my destiny.
It sucks, but I have to follow the yellow brick road of payback.
I had been punished for the last five years, and no matter how far and how fast I tried to run from my demons, they always found me in one form or another.
A gentle hand touched mine, and I fought the urge to pull back from Bax. How quickly I could go from taking comfort in him to experiencing unease. When my thoughts were on my past, my experiences, the darkness within me was that much grimmer.
“Why did you give up?”
I knew Bax would be persistent until I gave him some type of answer.
“I’m tired, worn, and beaten down, Bax. But, above all else, I deserve what I get. How can I fight against what’s owed to me? I don’t even know how.” The words slipped out, and I regretted every one because exposing too much of myself only brought difficulty.
As much as I thought I could trust Bax, he was still a guy with unhindered access to me. That left me exposed, and in my experience, that only meant danger.
“Libby, how can you think what happened to you in the park was owed to you? My God.” He shook his head. “You didn’t deserve that. No woman does.”
“You’re wrong. I deserve it, and I wouldn’t know how to ward anyone off. It only gets me into more trouble.”
I scratched my hand, and Bax took ahold of it.
“You don’t know how to protect yourself?” he questioned. When I didn’t say anything, he pushed further, “Answer me, Libby. Do you know how to defend yourself in a threatening situation, like the one you just experienced?”
I didn’t want to answer because I thought it should be obvious. He had seen what I did when imperiled.
I blew out an annoyed breath. “No, Bax, I don’t know how to protect myself, and there’s no reason to learn.” Didn’t I just explain that to him?
“Bullshit. You need to learn to defend yourself, and I’m going to be the one to teach you.” He nodded once, indicating the subject was closed.
“Better. Try again.” Bax backed away from me and took a threatening stance—arms in the air, hands partially arched—as he watched every movement I made.
He would come at me fast, and I needed to be ready.
We were in a Podunk town, somewhere in mid America, on our way to another national park. I thought Bax had said it was Hot Springs in Arkansas. At this point, I didn’t care where we went, just so long as it wasn’t back to Michigan. I loved my state—the beauty, the lakes, and the changing seasons along with everything that came with them—but I didn’t want to be anywhere near the subject that stalked my nightmares. The farther away I was from him, the more at ease I felt. But I was aware, always alert.
“Libby, focus.” Bax slowly approached me in his predator’s stance. “You have to always stay conscious of your surroundings, your attacker’s moves and where their eyes are aimed, and constantly examine them for weaknesses.”
With that statement, he came at me, loosely putting his hands around my neck and placing me in a strangle hold, similar to the one I had been in at Six Flags.
I fought the immediate panic the sensation generated and tried to remember that it was just Bax. He wasn’t going to hurt me. Then, I took a deep breath to calm myself, like Bax had taught me. I tipped my chin down to protect my throat and hinder his ability to keep pressing the vulnerable section in the middle. I lifted my arm over both of his, grabbed the arm furthest away from me, and pulled down, bringing him closer to me. My free hand rose toward his face to palm it, and at the same time, I lifted my knee to his groin. I didn’t actually hit Bax, but he played the part, as if I had broken his hold.
“Good, Libby. Much better. Now, try this move.”
He taught me several more ways to get out of a strangle hold. After that, he acted out different scenarios an attacker might use and how I could break free.
“When you get away, run. Sprint as fast as you can toward help. Got it?” Bax studied me, making sure I was still paying attention.
I nodded just before I heard Carly say, “Hey, guys! The food’s here,” from the back entrance of the Laundromat.
Bax and I were behind the building on a small patch of grass—more like weeds—in the bright sunshine while we waited for our loads of laundry to spin. Carly and Milo had run out to get us all lunch.
Carly and Milo walked over with a couple of to-go bags from Taco Bell. The chain had quickly become one of our food staples on this trip. I could never say no to beans, tacos, and the occasional Meximelt.
“Did you guys hear that we’re under a tornado watch?” Milo excitedly rummaged through the take-out bag, handing out wrapped treasures to each owner.
Bax and I angled our heads toward the clear blue sky in confusion. It was a beautiful, warm, and humid day. The back of my shirt was sweat-dampened from the heat and self-defense lesson that we’d just concluded.
“You sure?” I stuffed a spoonful of pintos and cheese in my mouth. I was ravenous from an afternoon of physical activity.
“My phone sent a warning, so unless The Weather Channel app is on drugs, I think we’re in for some possible rough weather later.” Milo shoved half of his taco into his mouth.
I have to give it to the guy; he always eats with gusto.
We continued to eat, and when we were finished, we headed inside to transfer our clothes into the dryers and start more loads if needed. When we didn’t do laundry but once every couple of weeks or when one of us ran out of clean underwear, it tended to be a timely affair.
Bax and I went back out to the patch of grass while Carly and Milo laughed, talked, and innocently flirted with each other. Since Key West, their relationship had started to change. According to Carly, they were still just friends, but I wasn’t blind or stupid. My
eyes had picked up on the longing looks they gave each other and their accidental touches when they thought no one was paying attention. I wasn’t sure what was happening between them, but I sure as heck knew it wasn’t completely harmless. But, as long as their flirting didn’t turn sour and interrupt our trip and camaraderie, I didn’t care what they did.
Instead of working on self-defense again, Bax and I decided to toss around a tennis ball we had found inside.
I overthrew the ball to Bax, and he had to jump in the air to catch it. When his feet hit the ground, he smiled and threw it back. It landed perfectly in my outstretched palms.
“Do you play ball?” I tossed it to him.
Bax caught it without effort. “A little.” He lifted his leg and swung his arm under it, and the ball sailed toward me.
“Show-off.” I caught it and then flung it near him before I sat on the curb, exhausted from the day’s exertion.
Bax laughed as he walked to stand by me and bounce the ball on the pavement.
“I played ball a lot as a kid—up until I was thirteen and had to give it up.” It was said nonchalantly, but the expression on his face told me it was anything but inconsequential.
“Why did you have to quit?” I dug my toe against a stone on the cement.
He wiped a hand over his sweaty brow. “That’s when Gram passed away, and I went into the system. Foster parents don’t give a shit about what the kids like or desire. In my experience, they’re just looking for a check and want to see and hear as little from you as possible.”
I thought I heard thunder rumble in the far distance, but when I looked up to the sky, it was still crystal clear. It had probably been a semitruck on the highway.
“My past is shady, Libby,” Bax continued talking. It seemed like he was in a sharing mood, and I wasn’t about to stop him. “There are a lot of things I’d rather forget and many more I wish I hadn’t done.”
He sat next to me and spun the tennis ball in his hand.
“I constantly got teased, bullied, and beat up when I went to live with my first foster family.” He let out a humorless small laugh and shook his head. “I was a scrawny, naive kid—barely a teenager. My early childhood wasn’t perfect, and I dealt with a lot of shit before my mom died, but nothing prepared me for what I walked into with that first family.”