“Good for you kid,” he fumed. “I’m glad you hit the bastard a few times. Glad you busted his nose. But she’s my daughter. And I’m going to kill that scumbag.”
As her father articulated each word, the degree of calm he possessed during his brief interaction with Gabriel seemed to seep from him. Speaking enraged him anew. But one question remained; one he had not posed yet.
In a raspy whisper, he asked, “Missy, did he, violate you?”
“No Dad, he didn’t,” she answered.
“But the bastard tried to. And he hit you. I’m getting my shotgun!”
He thundered upstairs to get his Remington 12-gauge shotgun.
Melissa was dizzied with panic. She followed him but to her chagrin, she was much too slow. He reappeared almost instantly armed and threatening. Before Melissa could intercede, Gabriel offered his thoughts. She was paralyzed by Gabriel’s bravery and stupidity as he led her father to the kitchen for conference.
“Sir, if I may speak,” Gabriel began in a calm, measured voice. “I beat the hell out of him, I really did. If you were to find Kevin’s address and beat him to a bloody pulp or shoot him where he stood, you would be completely justified. But his parents would call the police and you would be arrested which would leave Melissa orphaned and vulnerable to retribution, sir. Melissa has been through enough tonight. She has experienced enough violence,” he reasoned.
With his chin tipped up defiantly, her father was courteous and composed enough to listen and consider Gabriel’s thoughts.
“So what do you propose I do, kid, just let him get away with trying to rape my daughter?”
Frustration temporarily overcame her dad. He slammed his hand against the kitchen table. The sound startled Melissa.
“Absolutely not sir, I just think we need to act first. We need to call the police.”
“Maybe that makes sense to you, but you’re not her father! I want that asshole dead!” he seethed.
“Sir, you’re right. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling,” Gabriel offered. “I got to feel my fists pounding on the dirtbag. You ought to have the same satisfaction, but not now, not tonight. Pardon my language sir, but let him get the shit scared out of him with the cops showing up on his doorstep.”
Her father remained silent for several minutes. Brooding and deep in thought, his complexion regained a fair hue. The bulging vein diminished. His facial muscles relaxed.
“Huh. There may be something to what you’re saying, kid. Let the whole damn neighborhood see their precious star athlete taken away in handcuffs. Let them read about him in the paper. He can kiss his scholarship offers good-bye.”
“Yes sir. And he’ll probably be benched and when he is, everyone will know why.”
Everyone would know why. The words resonated in her head. If Kevin were arrested, it would most certainly be newsworthy enough. The school, along with the entire town, would be privy to the attack she’d endured.
“Exactly!” she shouted. “Everyone would know what happened!”
Melissa neared hysteria.
“Doesn’t anyone care about how this affects me?”
Both her father and Gabriel halted and turned to look at Melissa. The night’s events, her father’s near-felonious response left her raw and exposed.
“Wasn’t it enough that all this happened in the first place without every student, every parent and every teacher knowing about it?” Melissa began. “I mean, I don’t want everyone staring at me and talking about what happened. It’s just so embarrassing. I just want this to be behind me. Don’t I get a say?”
“Missy, this scumbag deserves to be punished and embarrassed. He deliberately drugged you, told you that you were taking Tylenol. I am no lawman, but I’m guessing that’s illegal, as is trying to force yourself on a woman,” her dad explained.
“Your father is right, Melissa. And since you are a minor, I imagine that the authorities cannot disclose your name without the consent of your father,” Gabriel added.
“It doesn’t have to be in the paper either,” Melissa’s father reasoned. “So the only people who will know what happened apart from us and Kevin would be the police and Kevin’s parents and trust me, they will not want this to get out any more than you do,” Melissa’s father concluded.
Melissa considered what had been proposed to her. She knew that what Kevin did must not go unpunished. He drugged her, tried to render her powerless and strip her of her dignity. Though she had no control over her situation earlier, she would have control over its outcome.
“Fine then, let’s do this. Let’s report Kevin,” Melissa asserted wringing her hands.
Her father crossed the room and picked up the telephone. As he dialed, the doorbell rang.
Melissa answered the door to find Daniella and Alexandra standing at the entrance. She could only imagine the thoughts that raced through their minds as they looked at her bruised face.
Judging from their horrified expressions, she looked as bad as she felt.
Melissa opened her mouth to speak but Daniella beat her to it.
“Melissa! Oh, my God! What happened?” Daniella exclaimed as she stepped through the doorway.
Her face, usually the picture of happiness and vivacity, was twisted into one of horror. Guilt struck Melissa for generating such a response.
“Who the hell did this to your face? That fucking asshole Anderson?” Alexandra questioned heatedly.
Before she could continue her profanity-laced invective, she was interrupted.
“Uh, nice language Alexandra,” Melissa’s father quipped. “It’s warranted, but can we try to keep things PG-13.”
“Sorry, Mr. Martin,” Alexandra said slightly embarrassed. “I didn’t see your truck in the driveway.”
“Fair enough,” he said to Alexandra. Then, to the rest of the group, “The police are coming. I called and a pair of officers should be here any minute.”
“Okay, Dad,” Melissa said dreading the task ahead.
“Melissa, tell us what happened. Did Kevin really do this to you?” Daniella asked incredulously.
“Umm yeah, he did,” Melissa admitted as fresh tears welled in her eyes.
Daniella embraced her. Melissa and her friends walked into the living room and settled on a large, black leather sofa. Gabriel sat on the matching loveseat positioned at a ninety degree angle to the couch.
Melissa described what had happened to her two best friends. After she finished reciting the details, Alexandra had a single question for Gabriel. She fixed her near-black eyes intently on him and accused, “Where the hell were you? If you had shown up when you were supposed to, none of this would have happened.”
Gabriel lowered his eyes sadly.
“There were some complications. I had trouble leaving my house. I got there too late and the bonfire was over,” he offered contritely. “On my way to the party, I heard a girl screaming. I followed the sound of her voice. When I got to the small clearing I saw that it was Melissa. I saw what that dirtbag was trying to do to her and I flipped out.”
Melissa’s heart clenched. The guilt laced in his every word, the shame in his posture pained her. She considered Gabriel a hero, yet he somehow held himself accountable.
“I hope you beat the shit, uh, snot out of him,” Alexandra said flatly as she exchanged a quick glance with Melissa’s father who smirked approvingly at her choice of words.
“Don’t worry about that. Gabriel leveled him. We’re pretty sure he broke Kevin’s nose,” she chimed in. “Kevin kept coming at him but Gabriel dropped him every time. I mean, Gabriel, you handled him like he was nothing.”
“It was just an adrenaline rush. I was really angry,” Gabriel said modestly.
“You really handled Anderson like that?” her father inquired.
“I suppose so, sir.”
“That guy is a monster. What is he like, six-four and two hundred twenty pounds?”
“That’s a fair estimate, sir.”
“He’s all-st
ate in football, too. Huh, pretty impressive. Do you box or something?”
“I had a little training in Russia. Nothing formal though sir.”
“Huh, impressive,” her father mumbled again as he walked to the kitchen to prepare a pot of coffee.
Melissa followed him but was distracted by headlights illuminating the windows of the kitchen. A black-and-white patrol car had pulled in to the driveway. Two uniformed officers exited the cruiser Melissa watched as the pair approached the front door.
“They’re here,” Melissa notified her father.
Her pulse raced and her palms slickened with sweat. She took a deep breath to steady herself before answering the door. She acted so quickly, the police officers did not have time to ring the doorbell.
“Come in,” she said and ushered the male and female officer down the hallway and into the living room. The officers remained standing.
Daniella and Alexandra took the police presence as their cue to leave.
“We’ll call you tomorrow, sweetie,” Daniella said.
“Yeah, if we can help at all, give them our numbers,” Alexandra added.
Officer Mark Nettle introduced himself to Melissa, her father and Gabriel, in a rich, melodic voice. The contrast of his voice and his physical appearance was remarkable. A narrow-shouldered man with thick, black hair trimmed to a buzz-cut and with piercing black eyes. Melissa was unnerved by his intensity, yet oddly soothed by the quality of his voice.
Officer Nettle then presented the group with his partner, Officer Charlene White. Officer White had smooth, coffee-colored skin and an easy smile. A portly, large-bosomed woman in her mid-thirties, Charlene White maintained squatness that measured her to be as tall as she was wide. Her function would be to work with Melissa.
Officer White spoke first.
“So tell us what happened tonight in as much detail as possible,” she instructed in a, gravelly voice.
Melissa’s ears ached at the quality of Charlene White’s coarse and jagged tone. It conflicted with her smooth, rounded appearance. As she addressed Melissa, her words clattered and crashed as they resonated throughout the house, each word more raspy and gruff than the one before.
Melissa recounted the evening’s events in explicit detail to the two police officers. Sickened by the graphic nature of the incident, she pored over every fact while Officers Nettle and White took notes. They asked many questions posed with an array of terminology. They inquired about specific threats that were issued and abusive language that was used against her. She was asked to articulate, in vivid detail, every act that was violent or sexual in nature. She was asked what she thought, felt and feared during the attempted attack. Her condition was observed and documented in the police report. Melissa spoke emotionally as the officers remained inexpressive. Each recount was nauseating, painful.
As Melissa described what had happened, she was aware of Gabriel’s presence. He remained at her side. Positioned attentively with flawless posture, his intense cobalt eyes never left Melissa’s face as she addressed the officers. He remained stoic save for the intermittent and almost imperceptible cringes during the more graphic portions of her reporting. His support eased some of her tension and embarrassment. She felt like his serene support willed calmness her way. He was supportive but unobtrusive.
As Melissa finished giving her statement to the two officers, Officer White asked, “Is that everything?”
Melissa did not answer at first. A question had been burning in her mind during her interview with the officers. She was terrified to address a key concern, terrified of the answer she might receive. But an answer was imperative.
She looked directly into Officer White’s hazel eyes and asked, “Will this all go away because I was drinking or because I took the fake Tylenol Kevin offered me?”
Officer White did not answer Melissa’s question. Instead, her partner replied in his rich, baritone voice, “Quite the contrary, Miss Martin, alcohol and involuntary drug use caused increased vulnerability, not culpability.”
“Culpability? I’m not sure what you’re saying,” Melissa said.
“Culpability is defined as,” Officer Nettle began in his silken cadence.
Officer White interrupted her partner, her voice, sharpened tacks against polished glass.
“It means even if you were as drunk as a skunk and went willingly with this Anderson guy with the intent to have sexual intercourse in the woods, once you said no, it should have been over. No means no. You are not to blame,” she grated then added, “Before we go, we’re going to need to clip you nails.”
Officer White wheezed and puffed as she struggled to twist and reach for a plastic, forensic collection bag from her fanny-pack.
“Since you allegedly scratched Kevin Anderson,” she continued, “his DNA will be under your nails. Our guys in forensics will be able to extract the material that will be put to use in the case against Anderson.”
Melissa proffered her hands as Officer White covered her own plump, russet-hued fingers with latex gloves. She then clipped Melissa’s fingernails. The trimmings were collected in a clear plastic zip-closure bag and labeled before being replaced in the officer’s fanny-pack.
“We’re also going to need a statement from you. You’re a witness.” Officer White pointed a meaty finger at Gabriel. “We’ll need you to come down to the station with us for that. How old are you?”
“I’m seventeen, ma’am,” Gabriel stated.
“Then we’ll need to call your folks,” she said.
“If you remember anything else just call us,” Officer Nettle added retrieving his business card from his jacket pocket.
He offered it to Melissa. The small, rectangular card smelled of pine and leather, masculine and smooth, befitting his voice.
“And you can meet us at the station,” Officer Nettle said to Gabriel.
“Thank you very much officers,” her father said as he offered his hand to them.
Melissa watched as her father gave each a hearty shake then walked them to their cruiser.
He returned almost immediately. After closing and locking the front door, he strode into the living room and addressed Gabriel.
“You’d better call your parents and get yourselves to the police station as soon as possible.”
“Yes sir,” Gabriel replied solemnly.
Gabriel looked sickened, like the mention of his father’s involvement terrified him.
Concerned, Melissa was about to ask if everything was okay. But before the words were on her lips, her father began soliciting information in his unique way.
“Gabriel, are you all right,” Christopher asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you worried about telling your folks what you did?”
“It’s just my dad and I. But yes sir. I am worried about how he’ll react.”
“He ought to be proud of you. You did a good thing. You saved a girl from being attacked.”
Melissa was shocked and warmed by her father’s honesty. She waited for Gabriel’s reply.
“I’m not sure my father will see it that way, sir.”
“Want me to call him?”
“No thank you, sir. I’ll have to deal with him.”
“Well then you’d better get to it.” Looking Gabriel directly in the eyes, he added, “And thanks, for everything.”
Melissa was proud of her father. He was not a man who shared his feelings readily. His expression of profound gratitude was rare, monumental.
“I’m going to grab a beer. Want a water or soda guys?” he asked.
“No, thanks, dad,” Melissa replied.
“No thank you, sir,” Gabriel answered.
Her father disappeared into the kitchen.
Seizing an opportunity to be alone with Gabriel, Melissa turned and spoke.
“Gabriel, I never thanked you. I mean, thank you doesn’t even seem like enough?” she began. “But thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I am so grateful that you came through the woods when you
did and heard me. You saved me.”
Melissa eyes filled with tears as she spoke. She walked Gabriel to the front door. Impulsively, she leaned forward and hugged him tightly then kissed him quickly on his cheek before shutting her front door.
***
Gabriel’s heart pounded in his chest when Melissa embraced him. He returned her hug and held her briefly. When the tension marginally escaped her arms, Gabriel released her. To his surprise, she gave him a quick kiss on his cheek and said good night.
Dizzy with emotions from her affectionate gesture, he walked to his car in a dream-like state.
His dream quickly transformed into a nightmare, however, as his cell phone beeped alerting him to missed calls. Twenty-three calls had been missed, all from the same number, Terzini’s cellular phone number. And a single message awaited him.
Terzini’s call meant his maker knew of his disobedient behavior. Rebellion would not be tolerated. Gabriel’s involvement with the police may warrant his demise.
Another new emotion arose within Gabriel. He was scared.
He had seen Kevin’s face, the wild-eyed anger; the malevolence. Melissa would need him, of that he was certain. It was imperative that he live to help her. After all, Gabriel knew Eugene’s arrival was imminent. Eugene’s presence granted Terzini unprecedented leverage, made him more dangerous to Gabriel than he already was.
Terzini undoubtedly knew of his transgression, that he had attended the bonfire. Once his maker was apprised of the magnitude of the situation along with the coming of Eugene, Gabriel’s life would be in grave danger.
About the Authors
Jennifer and Christopher Martucci hoped that their life plan had changed radically in early 2010. To date, the jury is still out. But late one night, in January of 2010, the stay-at-home mom of three girls under the age of six had just picked up the last doll from the playroom floor and placed it in a bin when her husband startled her by declaring, “We should write a book, together!” Wearied from a day of shuttling the children to and from school, preschool and Daisy Scouts, laundry, cooking and cleaning, Jennifer simply stared blankly at her husband of fifteen years. After all, the idea of writing a book had been an individual dream each of them had possessed for much of their young adult lives. Both had written separately in their teens and early twenties, but without much success. They would write a dozen chapters here and there only to find that either the plot would fall apart, or characters would lose their zest, or the story would just fall flat. Christopher had always preferred penning science-fiction stories filled with monsters and diabolical villains, while Jennifer had favored venting personal experiences or writing about romance. Inevitably though, frustration and day-to-day life had placed writing on the back burner and for several years, each had pursued alternate (paying) careers. But the dream had never died. And Christopher suggested that their dream ought to be removed from the back burner for further examination. When he proposed that they author a book together on that cold January night, Jennifer was hesitant to reject the idea outright. His proposal sparked a discussion, and the discussion lasted deep into the night. By morning, the idea for the Dark Creations series was born.
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