by Rylee Swann
I groan again when I notice the time. Four thirty in the afternoon. I slept most of the day away before rolling out of bed. I hate not having a job to go to and it’s going to become a big problem very soon. My very meager funds are running out.
When I got back to my apartment after unsuccessfully chasing down Dawn last night, I explained the situation to a very confused Angie. She wanted to stay with me, offered to make me a cup of tea, some food. She even suggested a back rub, anything to lighten my mood. I shook my head to everything and asked her as nicely as possible to leave. I needed to be by myself and sort through all my raging emotions. There was no way I could relax, no way I could hold a conversation. I needed to be alone with my thoughts.
“Alright,” she’d said, looking dejected.
“Hey.” She turned back to me, her hand on the doorknob. “You and me. We’re okay. As friends.”
She’d smiled at that and opened the door. “If I can help in any way with Dawn…”
I nodded and she left.
At least I’m being somewhat productive. I guess I’m still holding on to the pipedream that my music can start paying the bills at some point in the not too distant future. Yawning wide and rubbing my eyes to help shake free of all these cobwebs and racing thoughts, I sit back down on the couch with my guitar and go back to work. I have nothing else to do. Images of Dawn’s face cloud my vision. Looking down at the lyrics, I find that they’re about her. They’re all about her. Not just the ballads, even the ones that are meant to be hard-hitting rock and roll.
Maybe with Dawn and me on the outs, I should just go to her mother and stick a demo tape in her hand. Running my hands through my hair in frustration, I banish that thought almost as soon as it appears in my head. I’m going to make things right with Dawn.
A half hour later, I find I can’t concentrate and get my cell phone out to text Dawn.
Me: We should talk.
I delete that and try again.
Me: Can we talk?
I don’t send that one either.
Me: You got the wrong idea last night.
Fuck! That one’ll just piss her off.
Me: Call me?
No good.
Me: Call me.
I sigh, knowing what I really want to say.
Me: I’m crazy in love with you baby doll.
I stare at that text for long minutes, my finger hovering over the send key. How angry will she be if I tell her this for the first time by text message? Fuck, let her be angry. Hell, she’s already mad. This’ll be better than what she’s angry at me about now.
I take a shaky breath and then another until I feel steadier, and hit send. Watching as the words disappear from my screen, winging their way to Dawn’s phone, I smile. I’m relieved. I’ve taken a big step and I’m happy about it.
That lasts for all of about fifteen minutes.
Now, I’m feeling claustrophobic in my apartment and checking my phone every six seconds like some sad teenager with an unrequited crush. And, every time I check the damned phone, I have no text messages.
An hour goes by, and then another.
I’m about to text Divine to ask her about Dawn when, finally, my cell phone rings. I grab it, but don’t recognize the number. With an exasperated sigh, I answer it anyway. The frantic voice on the other end shocks me to my core.
“Fringe? This is Raven’s mother. We met recently and I’m sorry about my behavior then. Is she with you? She didn’t come home from school and she’s missed dinner. I’ve tried calling her but it went to voicemail.”
I swallow hard. This woman is my idol, much like I know David Bowie was hers. I can’t find my voice and what she’s said isn’t making things any easier.
“Err, yeah, this is Fringe, Miss St. Claire. Raven isn’t here. I’m sorry.”
“Damn. I tried calling Divine, but she’s not answering either, and I hate to admit that I don’t know any of her other friends’ phone numbers. I’m sorry to track you down like this. Your name was in the guest register of my building and I looked you up.”
“Of course, I’m glad you did. I don’t think this’ll help, but Raven didn’t answer my text from earlier. Maybe her phone is off?”
“Why would her phone be off?” She exhales and I can tell when she speaks again she’s trying to fight back panic, but it’s there in her voice. “Her birthday is tomorrow and something she said made me think she’s going to do something very stupid. Something she’ll regret for the rest of her life. Please, if you know where she might be, tell me.”
As soon as she says that, it clicks. Lobo. Fuck, there is no way I’m letting that happen.
“I know exactly where she is, Miss St. Claire, and I promise you I’ll make sure nothing happens to her. I’m leaving to get her right now.”
“Wait, please. Where is she? I’ll meet you there.”
My free hand forms into a fist. “It’s better if you don’t. Please, just trust me. I can handle this. I’ll bring her home.”
I disconnect the call and thrust myself into my outer winter clothing. A haze of red clouds my vision and my heart beats madly. I have to reach her in time.
Grabbing my keys and racing to my bike, I roar down the street, ignoring all traffic stops. I slow only marginally on turns—it wouldn’t do for me to spin out now.
If he’s touched her, I’m going to kill him. No one would miss that piece of shit. That thought warms me and I hunker down, asking my bike for more speed. It leaps forward, growling like the beast in my chest trying to claw its way out of me.
It’s only been around twenty or so minutes, but it feels like an eternity has passed when I finally get to Lobo’s street. I slow and cut the engine when I’m a couple of blocks from his apartment. Checking the time on my phone, I heave a relieved sigh. A quarter after ten. I know Dawn, and there’s still time.
He lives in a four-unit building and his apartment is one of two on the ground floor. Stomping across old snow, I reach his door and pound on it repeatedly with a gloved fist before stopping to listen. Nothing, so I pound again until I hear footsteps from the other side of the door.
“Cool your fucking jets,” Lobo says as he opens the door. Then he stops and stares in surprise, his mouth hanging open mid-curse.
I take the moment of shock to connect my fist with his face, a blow so powerful it rocks him back and down onto his ass.
Stunned, he looks up at me with a dopey expression, in a sitting position only because the wall stopped him from sprawling out on the floor.
Giving him a wide berth, I go around him and into his cesspool of a living room. I’ll never complain about my apartment again.
“Dawn! Dawn! Where are you!”
She appears from a hallway—fully dressed—thank god, her brow creased. “Fringe? What the hell—”
She spots Lobo as he struggles to his feet and changes direction to head toward him but I grab her arm and stop her. “Get your stuff. We’re leaving now.” She tries to pull out of my grasp but I don’t ease my grip. “Now, Dawn!”
Lobo’s harsh laughter rings out behind me. “Yeah, run along now, you little bitch. You’re no good to me now.”
Spinning around, I thrust Dawn behind me. “Get your stuff!” I command from between clenched teeth. Then pin my gaze on Lobo. “What the fuck are you saying?”
He’s on his feet now but still reeling from the blow I landed, letting the wall help steady him. He’s with it enough to sneer at me, though. “We knew you’d be a hard fucking nut to crack. Getting your ass fired didn’t even convince you. But we knew she would.” He juts his chin toward Dawn and winces in pain. “Fuck, just didn’t expect you to hunt her down so soon. Today ain’t her fucking birthday, ya know. It’s tomorrow.” Lifting his hand, he gingerly touches his face. “You are going to pay for this, asshole.”
From behind me, Dawn gasps. “You were using me?”
“Dawn, out the door!” That’s the last rational thought I have.
I’m moving now on raw
instinct—survival of the fucking fittest. I attack Lobo, feeling a savage glory as my fists connect with his face again and again. Blood spurts from his mouth, splatters the wall, coats my knuckles and still I don’t stop. “You were going to fuck her even if I joined, weren’t you?! Fucking piece of shit!”
He tries in vain to fend off my blows but I throw him against the wall, his head rocking into it. His face is wrecked, his nose broken, and still he laughs. What a piece of work.
“Fringe, stop! You’ll kill him!” Dawn tries to pull me away, grabbing my arms, my coat, anywhere she can find purchase, but she’s not strong enough. “Please, Fringe, stop! Let’s go!” She beats her little fists against my back. “Fringe!”
The note of terror in her voice finally sinks in, gets through to me. Coming to my senses, I give Lobo one final shove and step away.
He slides down the wall to a heap on the stained carpet, spitting out blood along with a tooth. He looks up at me through a half-slit eye, his head lolled to the side and gurgles, “You ‘n your slut’ll pay for this.”
I want to beat him to silence but Dawn grabs me and tugs toward the door. This time I let her.
Once outside, she hugs me. I feel her trembling and wrap my arms around her, resting my chin on the top of her head. I think she might be crying, but I say nothing and just hold her tighter. We stay that way for a time, while my heart swells with love and a fierce need to protect her. She feels so fragile, so delicate, yet I know she has endless inner strength, a will so beautiful that I ache in its presence.
“I was so scared,” she mumbles against my jacket.
“It’s alright now. I’m here. You’re safe.”
“But what if—”
“Let’s not worry about anything else right now. Let’s just get you home.”
I walk her toward my bike, but she stops and looks up at me. “Please no, not home. I can’t face that now. Can we go to your place?”
I nod and hug her to me until we get to my bike.
Once we’re at my place, first thing, I tell her to call her mother. “Don’t text her. She needs to hear your voice.”
She pulls her phone from her bag and looking at it, her eyes widen. “It’s turned off.” She turns to me, anger blazing from her deep green eyes. “I didn’t turn it off.”
Anger threatens to boil over in me again. “Lobo must have.”
She shudders at the thought, her eyes going back down to her phone. “Shit, I’ve missed a million calls and texts.”
So she never got my admission of love. My heart lightens. I have a second chance to tell her the right way the first time.
“Don’t go through them now. Call your mother. She’s worried about you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She waves a hand at me—such a cute, impatient little cuss. “Hello? Mom?” Pausing, she bites her lip, her eyes widening. “Hi, Dad.” She looks at me with an oh fuck! expression and I hold my breath while she listens. “Okay, yeah.”
Then she hands the phone to me. “Dad wants to talk to you.”
“Seriously?” She nods and shakes the phone at me and I take it with a fair amount of trepidation. “Hello, Mr. Fahr.”
“Did you save her from doing something so stupid that it would affect the rest of her life?”
I’m stunned and have to find my voice. “Yes, sir, I did.”
“Good, that’s my man. Hold on a second.” Then I hear him speaking to her mom. “St. Claire, she’s alright. In one piece. Everything’s okay.” There’s a blubbered thank god and my heart goes out to Dawn’s mom. “Alright now, Fringe. When are you bringing our girl home?”
Dawn’s mouthing to me, what’s he saying? But I shake my head and brace myself for an onslaught. “Tomorrow, I’m thinking.”
There’s a long pause, and now I’m expecting the worst. Hell, I just told a girl’s dad that I’d bring her home the next day. Everyone knows what that means.
Not that I’m planning on it. I don’t even know if she wants me that way, but if she does…
“Treat her right, do you hear me? Don’t hurt her. At least, not any more than necessary. First time’s a bitch, isn’t it?”
My mouth drops open. Is this guy really talking about me taking his daughter’s virginity? I shake my head and run a hand through my hair. I’m so stunned that my hand stays there, like it’ll hold my brain in place.
“I… umm…”
He chuckles. “Son, I’m bipolar. That means my brain works differently from most others. I see the world on a different plane and have more than my fair share of epiphanies, both strange and beautifully poetic. It also means that I rarely have a filter on what comes out of my mouth. But, I’m not wrong, am I? If she’ll have you, it’ll happen. Bring her home happy. That’s an order.”
“I will… sir. Thank you.” I wait for more, but he’s already disconnected.
Dawn’s staring at me so I toss the phone back to her. She catches it and looks at the screen. “He hung up? What’d he want? What did he say?”
I shrug. There’s no way in hell I’m going to tell her what he said. “He was just making sure you’re alright.”
She looks back up at me. “Did he weird out on you? He does that sometimes.”
The word bizarre comes to mind, but I don’t say it out loud. “Nah, he was cool. Expects you home tomorrow.”
She smiles gratefully and my breath catches. She’s like a ray of sunshine bursting through a very bleak day. Now that I’ve accepted my true feelings for her I realize that I love looking at her. She’s stunning. Large fathomless green eyes, an adorable button nose and full lips that mesmerize me. Fuck, I should start writing porn instead of lyrics. “Thanks for clearing that with him. I’m not up for a third degree tonight.”
She looks at her phone again, going through her missed messages. I have to stop her before she gets to my text.
“Dawn, I need to tell you something.”
“Hmm?” Her thumb is moving on the screen. “Hey, I have a text from you.”
My mouth dries up. “Dawn, please, before you read it I have to tell you something.”
She raises her eyes to meet mine. “I don’t like the sound of this. Are you breaking up with me?”
I know she’s teasing but the words crush my heart. “No, that’s the furthest thing from my mind.”
“What?” Tilting her head, her forehead creases the cute way it does when she’s worried. “You’re freaking me out. Is this something bad?”
“No. Would you just shut up and let me say it?” I take a deep breath and pace in front of her. “I…” Just say it, damnit. “Look, regardless of how you might feel—”
“Fringe, you’re scaring me.”
“Stop interrupting.” With my rattled nerves, my voice is a little too sharp and her mouth snaps shut. “I just want to tell you that I’m in love with you, Dawn. Have been for a while now.”
She blinks at me, her face still scrunched up with worry and then, to my relief, her lips form into a smile. A gigantic one. “Oh my god!” She flies into my arms, rocking me back a couple of steps. “I love you, too, Fringe. Oh god, how I love you.”
My arms envelop her and I hold her tight. I can’t speak, my heart is beating so fast—a product of the fear that she’d laugh or say something along the lines of sorry, Charlie. What she’s actually said has barely registered. My heart swells, disbelief slowly fading to be replaced with stunned wonder. She loves me back? Yeah, she said so.
We pull away at the same time to look at each other and words aren’t necessary. Smiling into each other’s eyes, our lips crash together. The kiss is so urgent, so all-consuming that I don’t know how I’ve survived this long without it. I’ve never tasted this perfection, never tasted the sweetest nectar, never breathed in the scent of heaven… until this moment. I want it to happen about a million more times.
I don’t want it to end until… she laughs into my mouth.
“I can’t believe I’m kissing you!” She looks up at me with intense, shining eyes
.
I smile, running my finger over the soft skin of her cheek. “Should we stop?”
“Fuck no!”
Our lips again crash together, a hunger so alive in us it must be fed. It burns through me, a white-hot fire that stirs not just my cock, but my soul. Pushing my tongue into her mouth, I explore its heated depths. Then her tongue is there, swirling around mine, teasing, dueling. I’m drowning in her and have never been more alive.
Again, she breaks contact and I growl.
“So, what does your text say?”
“That I’m crazy in love with you.”
She bumps me with her shoulder. “Seriously?” I nod solemnly. Understanding blossoms in her eyes. “You wanted to tell me yourself, before I read it.”
“Yeah.” I smile a little sheepishly and she smiles back.
“I’m crazy in love with you, too.”
She moves to kiss me but this time I stop her, my thumb tracing the outline of her lips. I need her. If she’ll have me. Sudden terror roils in my belly. Man up, jackass. Just ask her. What if she says no? Fuck, since when have I had trouble taking a girl to bed before? But, this is Dawn. This is different. This is fucking important. Pivotal. Life-changing.
For both of us.
“Wanna move this to the bedroom?”
Fear flits across her face but then she smiles. “It’s not my birthday yet.”
I glance to the wall clock. “It will be in less than an hour.” I bend until my lips are at her ear. “I can keep us busy until the clock strikes twelve.”
She shivers against me but says nothing.
I know her well enough to know she’s deep in thought, so I give her time. I’ve never been with a virgin but I understand what an enormous thing this is for Dawn. To be honest, her saying yes makes me a little nervous. It’s a huge responsibility, one I don’t take lightly. I need to make this the best possible experience for her. No quick in and out. She deserves the world, and I better be up for the task.
At last she nods, biting her lip, and I take her hand and lead her to my bed, walking backwards so I can look at her as she follows. I’m pleased to see she doesn’t look like I’m taking her to the gallows. Fear is there, but also excitement. It’s a heady mixture and I’m already planning how to make the most of it, to keep all her senses heightened.