Cornered

by Ariana Gael

  “Stop your yelling, Michelle!” Daniel said in a heavily slurred voice, vapors of stale beer wafting from his putrid open mouth. “Some guy thinks he’s gonna come get a piece of what’s mine? No way!”

  Daniel kicked Binh again, this time catching him in the back of his head as the kid curled in a ball. He dropped down and punched Binh, over and over, as Michelle tried desperately to pull his hand away only to have his fist catch her solidly in the cheek. He reared his arm back for another assault on her, catching Michelle across the cheekbone in the process and dropping her to the pavement before kicking at Binh one more time.

  “Daniel, stop! He’s just a boy! Stop!” Michelle crawled to where Binh lay motionless, only inspiring Daniel’s anger further.

  “That’s right, save your chink-assed boyfriend! No wonder you stayed here so late!”

  “I stayed because you forgot to pick me up! You were supposed to be here when the restaurant closed. He was just taking me home!” Angry tears spilled down Michelle’s swollen cheek, mixing with the blood from where Daniel’s ring cut her before dripping down the front of her torn silky dress.

  “Yeah, I bet he was taking you home. I’m the one who takes you home! ME!” he bellowed, staggering a little bit from the loss of balance caused by his anger. “Now get off your ass and get in the car!”

  “No, Daniel! I’m not going anywhere with you! You’re drunk and you’re a jerk. Leave me alone!” Michelle cried. She still leaned protectively over Binh, whose quiet moans at least let her know he was alive. She shielded his head and torso as much as she could as Daniel advanced towards them again. A painful kick to her hip sent her sprawling over his young body, but she would take it before she let this lousy excuse for a boyfriend hurt a sweet, kind boy. She covered her head with her arms and waited for it to be over.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  It had been a long day, and now, thanks to pulling a shift as the on-call driver for the garage’s after-hours tow truck, it was going to be a long rest of the night, too. Two separate calls had come in tonight, meaning he was only just now getting around to finishing his cold dinner. Lars leaned back in his chair, propped his feet on the desk, and enjoyed the quiet of the shop, practically blissful now that he’d finally finished that rebuild job that had been hanging over his head. The leftovers from the dinner of Asian take-out sat on the desk next to his steel-toed shoes.

  The garage was almost eerie without the usual sound of whining impact wrenches, but just as he reached to turn on the radio for some background noise, Lars heard a scream, definitely a woman screaming, only a block or two away. He sat up straighter, listening closely for any other sounds, hoping it really was just the result of his tired brain.

  When he heard more shouts followed by another scream, Lars jumped out of his chair, reaching for a long handled wrench from one of the toolboxes near the lift. He stepped outside, patting his pockets to make sure he had his keys before the door could shut.

  As he crept towards the street, scanning every direction for signs of a scuffle, it took a few moments before Lars could isolate the source of the sounds. Making his way to the corner of the building while staying out of sight, he peeked around the drainpipe bolted to its side just in time to see a ragged man deliver a swift kick to a figure crouched on the ground.

  That’s no way to fight, Lars thought. Kicking a man while he’s down is just low.

  Lars lifted the wrench as he snuck up behind the attacker, but at the last minute swung it low so that instead of bashing the man over the head like he wanted to it impacted with the side of his leg, just above the knee. The fighting man went down with a loud cry, clutching at his injured leg as he rolled from side to side. He tried once to get up and looked as though he would lunge at Lars, only to crumple to the ground solidly when Lars popped him sharply in the forehead with a jab from the heel of his hand.

  Lars made sure that the man wasn’t getting up any time soon before heading to the victim on the ground. He reached into a pocket of his coveralls and pulled out a flashlight, shining it in the direction of the man’s target. He was sickened to the point of rage when he saw that there were actually two people cowering on the ground, a brunette woman and a young kid.

  “Don’t try to move, I’m going to get help,” Lars half-yelled, adrenaline forcing its way to his heart as he looked around the alleyway. “Just hold still.”

  “Is he gone?” Michelle said in a cracked voice. She lifted her head to look past the man who had rescued them, his light still shining on Binh’s thin frame. Daniel’s agonized yells answered her question, making her wince.

  “Can you stand up?” Lars asked, timidly putting a grease-stained hand under her arm to help her stand so he could see the boy.

  “I think so. Just let me get my bearings for a second.”

  “What happened? Who is this asshole?”

  “Well, now he’s my ex-boyfriend. He thought I was cheating on him, and he just went crazy.”

  “Wait, he thought you were cheating? With this guy? He’s just a kid!”

  “I didn’t say he was smart,” she answered, wincing from the facial expression she’d made. “Can you get Binh’s parents? They own the restaurant around the corner, they’re apartment is in the back.”

  Before Lars could decide whether or not he should leave the two of them with the moaning attacker still groaning on the ground nearby, two people approached, holding each other’s arms. “Binh! BINH!”

  Michelle looked up as Mr. Phan and his wife rushed at them, their cordless phone still clutched in Mrs. Phan’s hand. She threw herself down on the ground and cradled Binh’s head gently, looking around frantically to try to figure out what had happened. Mr. Phan pointed an accusing finger at Michelle.

  “You do this! You bring that idiot to my restaurant! This all your fault!” he shouted, using his angry voice again, his hair falling over his eyes as his head shook.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Phan! I had no idea he would show up here at this time of night. Binh was taking me home and Daniel got the wrong idea, then...”

  “I no care! Look at my son’s face! You fired, you no come back here. Then that idiot stay away!” He turned back to his wife and injured son, helping her lift Binh now that he was starting to come to.

  “Wait, Mr. Phan, I can promise you that this will never happen again...” Michelle began, trying to help the couple lift their son.

  “Here, let me help you get him inside,” Lars offered before being pushed away by Mrs. Phan.

  “No! You two go away now!” They each took a shoulder and half-carried, half-dragged him inside, leaving Lars and Michelle to stare down at Daniel’s passed out carcass.

  “Um, are you okay?” Lars asked, finally turning to Michelle and shining his flashlight just to the side of her face to see the bleeding bruise leaking down her cheek. He reached into his pocket for something to stop the bleeding, but came up empty handed. “The police are coming, that lady was on the phone with them when she came outside. They’re gonna need to talk to you. I’ll stay here in case this guy comes to.” Lars nudged Daniel with the toe of his shoe, getting a solid moan out of him.

  “Thanks.” She looked away and went to sit on the curb, pulling her knees close to her body. It didn’t matter if her dress got smudged now that she was out of a job.

  “Is there someone I can call to pick you up?” he asked, coming to sit near her while still giving her some space.

  “No, it’s too late. I’ll just send my roommates a text. I don’t want to wake them.”

  “Do you always do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “You don’t even know you’re doing it? Listen, some asshole beats your face in while you protect a kid, and then you stand there begging for your job while the blood runs down your chin. Then, after it’s all over with, you don’t wanna go waking up your roommates because they’re getting their beauty sleep or something? It must really suck having to care about everybody but yourself.”

  Tears formed
in the corners of Michelle’s eyes. She sniffled and rested her cheek—the clean one—on her knees, looking away from Lars without speaking.

  Once the police finally arrived, Lars filled them in briefly about what he knew while an ambulance technician cleaned Michelle’s cut. She gave her statement next, and then waited as the policemen told her a squad car would come to take her home. The best moment of the evening came when they tried to handcuff Daniel, which only made him lash out and scream at her. She watched in shocked horror as the officers had to spray him with mace and listened to his profanity-riddled screams of agony.

  “Hmm, thought I heard more screaming,” Lars said, wandering back in her direction and watching the officers wrestle Daniel into the back of a patrol car. He laughed loudly for just a second. “If he keeps this up, they’ll taze him!”

  Michelle wrapped her arms tighter across her chest, flinching when the adhesive from the bandage on her face pulled at the skin. Lars looked at her, and immediately felt awful for chewing her out earlier.

  “Hey, I’m really sorry about acting like a jerk earlier. I was giving you a hard time and that wasn’t fair. I don’t know your business, and I didn’t have any right. I don’t even know you’re name, who am I to judge?”

  She nodded quickly, then said, “It’s Michelle. Michelle Vane.”

  “And I’m Lars Michaelson. I’d say something like ‘nice to meet you,’ but that ship’s kinda sailed already. Look, I came out here to tell the cops I gotta go. The radio went off, I gotta tow a car. If they need me or anything, I’ll have to call them later. Since I’m already headed out on an official run, I can drop you off somewhere. Do you live close by?”

  Michelle tensed at the offer. She didn’t know this guy, even if he was nice enough to take Daniel down with a wrench. She looked at him to politely refuse his offer, but the look on his face was kinder than that of anyone she’d seen in a long time. She nodded slowly, reaching down for her purse where it had fallen to the sidewalk.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Brooke wrestled with wanting to call the police, call Michelle’s parents, or just put on her shoes and go looking for her on her own. Angela, sitting on the sleeper sofa and casually eating ice cream while flipping channels, wasn’t letting on that she was worried, too, but Brooke could tell Michelle’s disappearance was bothering her. Between horrendous-sized bites of caramel praline ice cream, Angela kept taking alternating looks between the apartment door and the tiny window to the street below.

  Just as she was about to look up the Vane’s number in New Jersey, Brooke heard voices in the stairwell and charged to the door. She threw it open and pulled Michelle into a tight hug, immediately bursting into tears.

  “Where have you been? You didn’t call or anything!” she started to yell, but stopped, speechless, when she saw the bandage on Michelle’s face, the deep purple bits of the surrounding bruise visible around its edges. “Oh my god! What happened to your face?”

  Those words brought Angela, who dropped the ice cream carton on the floor and led Michelle tenderly to the sofa. The three didn’t even notice the driver who had seen her to her door.

  “I’m going to go now, if you’re okay here?” Lars asked uncertainly, peeking into the apartment without actually stepping inside.

  “Yes, thank you, Lars. You were so kind,” Michelle said quietly. Brooke and Angela gave Michelle’s arms a simultaneous squeeze when they saw the dark-haired man standing in their doorway. He reached for the doorknob and pulled it shut, reminding them before he closed it to lock up once he left.

  “WHO was that?” Brooke managed to gasp as she flipped both deadbolts and fastened the chain lock. “He was absolutely god-like! Did he drive you home?”

  “Um, can we back up and talk about my face first?” Michelle asked with a tired smile, gesturing with her hands to her ripped, dirty work dress and her hair unraveling from the bun Mr. Phan insisted she wear.

  “Of course, honey,” Angela said, smoothing the escaped tendrils of hair out of Michelle’s face. “Tell us everything that happened so we can hurry up and get to the part about the gorgeous guy.” Michelle laughed genuinely at the joke, knowing that her roommates really did care. The motion made her face hurt again and she grabbed her cheek, causing Brooke to spring from the arm of the couch to bring her some ice.

  Michelle took a deep breath to start at the beginning, but then the full force of the evening hit her hard. She burst into tears instead, sobbing as her roommates exchanged frightened looks. The whole story poured out, ending with losing her job and having to get a ride home, all because of Daniel.

  “I’m sorry, but did this girl just sit here and cry about losing her job?” Angela asked Brooke sarcastically. “How about, ‘I’m crying because my loser boyfriend attacked me’? Maybe something like that?”

  Brooke rolled her eyes and shrugged at Michelle’s practical, walled-off nature. “Angela’s right, sweetie, you just need to worry about you. Don’t worry about anything else.”

  “Hell, now that it’s over, I’d say we can look on the bright side of things. You lost a job that barely paid you anything and you lost a boyfriend who wasn’t worth anything, plus you got a ride home from an actual member of the Greek gods. I’m sorry to be the one to break it to you, but this is the best night you’ve had in a long time.”

  Michelle couldn’t help but laugh, right in the middle of another bout of crying. The worst feeling was thinking about what could have happened, now that she had the luxury of knowing it was over. She could still see Binh laying on the ground, curled tightly trying to protect himself.

  The next morning, there was only one thing to do. She rallied the troops—well, the roommates—and went to Daniel’s apartment to get the few items she’d left there, a jacket, a DVD, stuff like that. He was still down at the police station, luckily, but she used the extra key he kept above the doorframe to let herself in. Michelle snagged anything that would have made her ever have to come back here then closed the door firmly on Daniel.

  Next stop, The Painted Phan to beg for her job back. Michelle had even been a little bit optimistic that in the bright light of day, the Phans would be willing to overlook the fact that her boyfriend was the one who’d assaulted their son, especially since she was innocent of the entire mess and practically a victim herself. The angry bruise on her face demonstrated that. But when she pulled on the heavy wooden door and stepped into the entryway, her heart sank. The podium where she greeted customers and got their menus was gone, shoved off in the corner with a potted plant resting on top of it. Nothing says permanent like a potted plant.

  Even with her newly crushed spirits, the least she could do was check on Binh. She was appalled to see him running the vacuum in between the empty tables, one arm cradled against his side and a row of black-threaded stitches running from his hairline to the outer edge of his eyebrow. Michelle raced over and gestured to him since he couldn’t hear her over the vacuum cleaner. She pulled out a chair and pointed to it, then took the handle of the vacuum from him.

  She smiled when he sank into a chair, exhausted and wincing, letting her take over the floor. So what if she didn’t work here anymore? This was the least she could do. Binh leaned his aching head on his one good arm, propping his elbow on a nearby table and resting his forehead on his hand. Michelle pulled chairs back from each table to get the crumbs underneath each one, carefully pulling the oversized cord so it didn’t snag on the chair legs. Mrs. Phan’s worried face appeared in the small, square window of the swinging kitchen door, frowning at the girl who just wouldn’t take the hint.

  Mrs. Phan raced from the kitchen and pulled the vacuum cord out of the wall, waiting for the loud whirring sound to die down before speaking.

  “Michelle? Why you here?” she asked not too unkindly, especially after her eyes travelled the damage Daniel had done to Michelle’s face as well. She put an arm around her son’s shoulders, looking up at Michelle with half-accusation, half-confusion. “My husband said you no can
be here. So why you cleaning?”

  “I just feel really bad, Mrs. Phan. You’re completely right. This is my fault. If not for me, Binh wouldn’t be hurt. I just came in to check on him and this is the least I could do.” She smiled and plugged the cord back in the wall, leaving mother and son watching her in surprise.

  Mrs. Phan shook her head before standing up and turning off the vacuum cleaner. She pulled Michelle into an awkward hug, made all the harder by the older woman’s four-and-a-half foot tall stature. She patted Michelle lovingly on the back for a moment before taking her by both shoulders and looking up at her tearfully.

  “No! This not your fault! He’s a bad man. You did nothing. No man ever supposed to hit girl or young boy. You did nothing wrong!” She pulled Michelle to her one last time and squeezed her tightly. “And you come back to work tomorrow. This your family.”

  “Really? But what about Mr. Phan? He’s not too happy with me right now.”

  “I handle Mr. Phan. You protect my son in the middle of the night. You are my family now. You come to work tomorrow.” She patted Michelle brusquely on the arm and switched the vacuum cleaner back on. Michelle laughed to herself when Mrs. Phan thrust the handle into her hand and swung her arm wildly around the dining room, telling Michelle to finish before she herself headed back into the kitchen to work on preparing lunch.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Lars slammed the back of his head into the hood of the car he was working on when his boss yelled his name across the loud garage. He wiped the grease off his hands and looked up, catching Dante’s pissed off expression and crossed arms, which was no small feat considering his boss could barely reach around his huge frame to clap his hands together, let alone cross his arms. The older man jerked his head, letting Lars know to join him in the office.

  Uh-oh, he thought. He’d known Dante all of four years and no one had ever been called into the office because there was a cake waiting for him. A couple of the other mechanics looked up and met Lars’ eye as he passed, but he could only shrug.