by Jenn Hype
Chapter 27
Chad
The drive to Stacy’s apartment took fucking forever despite how recklessly I drove the whole way there. When I finally made it to her parking lot I didn’t bother parking, instead I just got as close to the building as I could and jumped out of the cruiser, barely taking the time to put it in park before taking off for the stairs, not willing to waste the time it would take to turn off the car or close the door.
I took the stairs two at a time and my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. I couldn’t tell you how I knew something was wrong, I just did. Like a beacon calling out to me, pulling me to Stacy like a magnet, I just knew in my gut that whatever I’d find when I got to her would be bad. I hoped to hell I was wrong.
Despite the premonitions that had been flooding my brain since I found out about Stacy’s attack back at the station, nothing could have prepared me for the scene before me when I finally made it to her door.
Three men, two of them holding her down, one of them holding his dick in his hand. Stacy’s pants were around her ankles and her top was torn, exposing her stomach and a black, lacey bra. There was a pool of blood surrounding her head, and there was so much of it on her face and in her hair that she was almost unrecognizable. Stacy was unconscious, completely still and unmoving.
I saw red. I didn’t just see red, I saw a fucking inferno of rage consume my vision and something inside of me snapped. All the years I’d spent swearing I would never raise my fists like my father went out the fucking window. When I pulled the guy with his pants around his ankles off of her, years and years of pent up rage came barreling out all at once as I threw him like a rag doll across the room, watching as he slammed into the cabinets and fell to the ground.
It didn’t matter if I was releasing demons that I’d kept hidden and locked away all my life. If killing these men with my bare hands for hurting Stacy like this would ruin my life, then I truly didn’t give a shit. It would be worth it if it meant these motherfuckers would never be able to lay a finger on her again.
I felt the other two men approach me and took one down with a hard hit to the jaw. The other one got a swing in, but it felt like getting punched by a toddler. These thug drug addicts were severely malnourished and so doped up that they stood no chance against me.
All three of them were unconscious, and I found I was disappointed that they’d gone down so easily. I still had rage boiling in my veins, and the desire to release my anger on their lifeless bodies was almost impossible to reign in. But when I looked back at Stacy and saw her beaten and bruised body, all my rage was zapped out of me and worry took over. I knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to pick her up and pull her into my arms like I desperately wanted to without knowing where and how severe her injuries were.
I just wanted to make sure she didn’t have any injuries that needed immediate attention before calling for a medic and some back up. I didn’t get the chance to check, however, when the first asshole I’d thrown off of her tried to jump me.
He would have fucking raped Stacy if I hadn’t walked in when I did and with that thought, all reason and rational thought left my body and my fist started making all of the decisions. I punched him over and over, feeling his bones crunch beneath my knuckles, the cracking of his jaw echoing through the apartment. Blood was spraying everywhere every time my fist made contact with his face, but I couldn’t stop. I knew if I didn’t stop I was going to kill him, but I also punched that little voice telling me to stop in the face, and just kept on swinging.
It wasn’t until Joe appeared, yanking me away from the bloody mess in front of me, that I was able to truly take in what I was doing. Before I even had a chance to worry about the son of a bitch’s limp body lying on the floor in front of me I ran towards Stacy.
I would rather have taken a dozen dull razor blades to my sternum than have to feel the pain that tore through me when Stacy panicked at my touch. She was terrified of me. I tried to reason with myself and argue that she was just traumatized and maybe she couldn’t see clearly, didn’t know it was me, but when Joe knelt down beside her she instantly calmed. I backed away, the weight of the situation crashing down on me, but Joe tossed his radio at me and snapped me back into reality. I called for a bus and tried to convince myself to check on the assholes I’d knocked out cold as we waited for the medics to arrive, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I knew there would be hell to pay for what I’d done, and part of me didn’t give a shit if he died, but the other part of me wanted to finish what I’d started and make damn sure the asshole wouldn’t live another day.
Joe moved out of the way for the paramedics, giving them room to check Stacy’s vitals and assess the situation. Joe rattled off some information to them, but the voices around me were muffled and everyone aside from Stacy become a blur. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her.
I pushed my way out of the apartment and followed the medics, trying to climb in the ambulance behind Stacy, but they wouldn’t let me. I threatened their lives, became hysterical and irate, but Joe stepped in between me and the ambulance and convinced me to let them leave and do their jobs.
I raced over to the cruiser, still running with the door still wide open and I hopped in and took off before anyone could try to stop me. I actually beat the ambulance to the hospital and was waiting when they started to unload Stacy. I tried to decipher what they were saying about her condition but there was so much commotion and they moved too quickly for me to hear enough.
I flashed my badge at anyone who dare approach me, abusing my authority over and over again, but I didn’t give a fuck. If I had my gun on me I’d pull it and shove it down anyone’s throat who tried to keep me from Stacy. I sidled up beside her as they rushed her towards an OR, ignoring the doctors and nurses yelling at me to get out of the way. Stacy fisted my shirt in her hand and was trying to speak, so I pulled the oxygen mask away from her face.
Somewhere in the background I heard them threatening to throw me out of the hospital if I didn’t stop interfering, but I ignored them and kept my focus on Stacy. Her eyes were glassy and unfocused, and she was struggling to speak. I tried to reassure her, but as soon as I spoke, she said my name. I wanted to think she was calling out to me, wanted me there, but it came out so pained and tortured that it sounded more like she was begging for me to stay away.
Hearing the fear in her voice as she said my name was enough to break me. As Stacy let go of my shirt and the nurse put the mask back on her face, I fell backwards and watched as they wheeled her into the OR.
I was pacing back and forth in the hallway outside of the operating room when Joe arrived, playing the last hour over and over in my head. Why had Stacy been so terrified of me at her apartment? Was it seeing me almost kill that man? Was she terrified of me now?
“Nice of you to fucking show, Joe!” I yelled as he approached. I knew I was taking out my fear and frustrations on him, and really I should be thanking him for jumping in and keeping me from murdering that son of a bitch back there, but I was too worked up to think clearly.
“Fuck you! Not all of us are maniacs and act like selfish assholes all the time.”
“Selfish!? I’m here for Stacy! How is that selfish?!” I was seething with rage and my adrenaline was still coursing through my veins.
“How about abusing your authority and driving like an asshole in your cruiser, nearly killing a man with your bare fists, making a scene which caused the medics to not be able to leave right away with Stacy, and then driving like a maniac on the road again on the way to the hospital, endangering yourself and everyone around you. What, in all of those actions, sounds selfless to you, Chad? Don’t you ever think? If you really care about her then you would think more about what you’re doing. I’ve never seen you so out of control. You need to get it together.”
I pushed up into Joe’s face, our chests bumping, but he stood his ground. He looked just as angry as I felt and I knew fighting with Joe wasn’t going to fix anything, w
ouldn’t make Stacy better. I couldn’t help myself, though.
“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t have had to do any of those things if you had protected her like you should have, Joe. It’s your fault she is in that operating room right-”
I was cut off when Joe’s fist connected to my face. He’d hit me dead center and I knew I would have a black eye or broken nose, or both. Instinct told me to hit him back, or in the very least, get in his face. But instead I froze, staring down at my hands that were covered in blood. Stacy’s blood, her attacker’s blood, and now my blood. So much fucking blood.
My chest started heaving up and down and I was trying desperately to control my racing heart as I gasped for air when suddenly, without notice, my knees gave out and I crumbled to the ground.
I sat kneeling in the middle of the floor, a grown ass man, a fucking cop, having what I assumed was a panic attack. Joe leaned down and put his hand on my shoulder, crouching next to me where I sat on my knees. I buried my head in my hands and tried to focus on breathing. I could feel the tears threatening the back of my eyes and I truly couldn’t fucking care less. I’d spent my whole life holding in all of my emotions and where had it gotten me? I was in the middle of a hospital, covered in blood, having a melt down while the best thing that ever happened to me was fighting for her life in the operating room.
It was like my heart was a pressure valve, building and building for the last thirty years, finally about to implode with every pent up emotion at the worst possible time. Joe was right. I should have been stronger for Stacy. Not just tonight, but in every way since the day we’d met. I had been trying so hard to deny how I felt for her that I’d completely lost sight of myself and the things that were important.
I’d lost my partner, who was my only friend, and I was most likely going to lose Stacy for good. It was all too much to accept. It would have been so much easier to have someone else to blame in that moment. My dad for making me a violent bastard just like him, or Stacy for pushing all my buttons, throwing me over the edge, or even Joe for getting involved and treating my life like a game. But none of that mattered. I was the one who had lost control and I was the only one to blame.
I was shaking violently, hunched over in a useless heap in the middle of the hallway with a grown man next to me, holding me in a bear hug. I should have been embarrassed or ashamed, and I was, but not because of that moment. I was ashamed of what had led to the moment that had completely broken me. Finally taking responsibility for my actions and admitting to myself that I had fallen in love with Stacy was the most freeing moment of my life.
Chapter 28
Stacy
When I’d finally gained enough strength to open my eyes I was met with a cold, empty hospital room. It took several minutes to remember what had brought me there and the realization that I was alone hit me like a ton of bricks. No one except Joe even knew the whole truth of what had been going on the last couple of months and I couldn’t expect Joe to be with me instead of working or living his life. I didn’t even know how long I’d been in the hospital or if anyone knew I was there.
I pressed the call button for the nurse and within seconds a woman came running in. She immediately started checking my vitals, helped me drink some water and asked me a few questions. She told me I had been in the hospital for three days and had suffered some serious injuries, then she left to get the doctor.
I sat there for several minutes in the silence of my hospital room, trying not to cry. I didn’t want to cry until I at least had all the pieces of the puzzle. I wished desperately that someone, anyone, was there to help me through this. Why had I been so stubborn and retreated so far inside of myself lately? Everything was still a blurry mess and not having all the details made me feel like someone was sitting on my chest.
I heard foot steps, which I assumed belonged to the doctor, and I didn’t bother lifting my head. I sat in the bed, my head hung with regret, and waited to hear just how bad my attack had been. I just prayed they hadn’t actually raped me. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how disease ridden my poor vagina would be if that had happened.
“Stacy,” I heard my name come out as a hoarse whisper, so quiet I almost didn’t hear it, but I still recognized the voice. Chad.
I hesitated for a beat, almost too ashamed to face him, but when I finally looked at him and took in his appearance I literally stopped breathing. He looked horrible. His eyes were red and puffy like he’d been…crying? His hands were shaking and his clothes were wrinkled and worn like he’d been wearing them for days. He looked utterly miserable, and the desire for him to hold me flooded over me, and I mentally willed him to say that he wanted that, too.
The last time I’d seen him I’d been such a bitch. So many things had gone wrong between us, and I didn’t realize just how terrified I’d been of having to face him again. I would have assumed Chad would be yelling at me, telling me what an idiot I was for not being safer and blaming me for getting attacked. Instead, he looked at me with longing and regret, and I knew he blamed himself.
I wanted to reach out to him, but when I went to lift my arm I realized I was shaking almost violently, as if I were having a convulsion. The pain that shot through my arm and into my chest from trying to move forced a choking sob from my throat, and tears pooled in my eyes as I gripped my chest, suddenly feeling like I was having a heart attack. I heard an alarm on my heart rate monitor go off as the stabbing pain pierced through my chest. Seconds later I was surrounded by nurses and a doctor. They shoved a needle into one of the ports attached to my arm and my eyes instantly grew heavy as I drifted off to sleep.
When I woke up for the second time I was instantly flooded with relief at the sight of Joe sitting in a chair next to me, his feet propped up on my bed and the remote in his hand as he flipped mindlessly through channels on the TV in my room.
“This isn’t a fucking hotel, Joe,” I grumbled, barely audible with how dry my mouth was. Joe immediately pulled his legs down and gripped my hand in his, reaching over me to grab the cup sitting on my bedside table and lifting the straw to my lips. “At least you’re useful. I guess I’ll keep you.”
Joe chuckled and I saw how tired he looked, his eyes weary and heavy lidded. “I’ve been so worried, Stacy. You have no idea how happy I am to hear your smart mouth right now,” he teased as he shook his head and looked away briefly. When he spoke his words sounded cautious, like he was afraid of my reaction. “Do you remember anything?”
I stared out the window at my lovely view of the side of the building and tried to recall the details. “Pretty much everything, I think. There are pieces missing, but I think it’s from when I kept passing out. Some of it’s blurry, but unfortunately my memories of the attack are crystal clear.” I thought for a second and realized I had no recollection of getting to the hospital, so apparently I was missing some parts. “Did they catch the guys?”
“You don’t remember that part?”
“No,” I said with a frown. “What happened? Please tell me those assholes are in jail. Or dead.” Joe winced when I said dead and I briefly felt guilty for joking if one of them was dead, but then I remembered the assholes attacked me and tried to rape me, so screw them. If they were dead, it was there own damn fault.
“Ummmm…” Joe rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, looking everywhere except directly at me.
“Cough it up, pretty boy. What aren’t you telling me?”
“Well, yes they were caught. No they aren’t dead, but one of them is in critical condition and it could go either way.”
“Okay…awesome. Why didn’t you want to tell me that?” He hesitated again and I was starting to get impatient. What the hell wasn’t he telling me?
“Chad is the one who put him in the hospital.” He winced as he watched me react. I don’t know what he was expecting me to say or do with that information. I was in a fucking hospital bed, beaten and bruised, and he looked like he was afraid I was going to attack him.
Flashes of Chad
in my apartment flooded my mind. Of him pulling my attacker off of me, knocking out the two other men, punching my attacker over and over, blood spraying everywhere. My eyes darted back and forth while my thoughts tried to keep up with the memories coming back in waves. I remembered Chad coming to me when I was on the ground, putting his hand on me, and how badly I wanted him to pick me up and hold me and tell me everything was going to be okay.
But then I remembered seeing my attacker in my face and Chad was suddenly gone. How much of this was real and how much was I just imagining? It was all choppy and didn’t make any sense. Joe was sitting patiently next to me, holding my hand and not saying a word.
I told Joe everything I could remember about Chad being there, which apparently wasn’t all of it.
“You freaked out when he touched you, Stacy. Like you were terrified of him.” Joe’s eyes looked pained as he said that, and I wondered why me being afraid of Chad would hurt him.
“I wasn't afraid of him. I remember him coming to me and I was hoping he would pick me up and carry me to safety, but then he was gone and my attacker was in my face. I wasn’t thinking rationally; I was literally out of my mind. Of course now I realize that I was probably hallucinating, but I was in shock then. Did he really think I was afraid of him?”
Joe didn’t have to answer, his face said it all. “There was also the scene in your room when they had to sedate you after you saw him.”
That part was blurrier, but I still remembered it. “Yeah, he came in after the nurse walked out. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier in my life to see his fucking face. He was a hot mess, though. I felt like shit that he was obviously having a hard time because of me. I expected him to yell at me and tell me what an idiot I was, but he just looked so...broken. So I tried to reach out to him, but my body was shaking violently. Suddenly I felt like I couldn’t breathe, and next thing I know the entire fucking hospital runs in and drugs me again. Assholes,” I muttered the last word, shaking my head.