“I’ll come with you, if you like. Pro bono, of course,” Maggie offers kindly as she sits next to me in the worn conference room chair at the station. “We’ve been looking into the lack of follow-through on your campus with a variety of assault issues. If you don’t mind, I think we can help each other.” She uncrosses her cream-colored pantsuit-covered legs and leans forward to touch my hand. I accept the gesture and let her take my hand. She gives me a reassuring squeeze and a smile, one that lights up her eyes where they sit above high cheekbones and are framed by her short, curly onyx hair, which shines in the blinking halogen lights.
I nod to both women who have somehow joined me to create a team to not only go after Derrick, but to make changes at Crimson State as well. The two women are perfect complements to each other. Karen sits on the table with her bright red hair pulled back, startling against her dark blues eyes and contrasting with the ass-kicking gear attached to her belt.
“I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t nervous about backlash, but it won’t keep me from going forward,” I declare. “Especially now that I have the both of you.”
“We will be with you every step of the way,” Karen promises.
Neither of the women showed surprise when they heard my retelling of what happened—or didn’t happen—when I went to campus security for help.
“A shakedown has been a long time coming,” Maggie reveals. “And if we can get Judge Darlin, like I hope, the case we’ve been building will be getting the extra support it needs. Your campus needs a rude awakening.”
I swear I hear Maggie’s knuckles crack like she’s preparing for a fight. Karen must have heard it, too. Her freeing laugh in Maggie’s direction gives us a nice distraction from the seriousness of the situation. For a moment at least.
“I just hope Derrick gets the hint and does what he’s supposed to do.” I can’t trust anything he may do. “Not only is he still bothering me, but I think he trashed my friend’s car as well.”
Just your friend?
I’m not sure why I omitted boyfriend. I suppose I don’t want them to think this isn’t a big deal, and would they indeed feel that way knowing I’ve moved on? Or is it actually the trickle of doubt running from my toes up to my neck and back again since Shan may not even be that, or want that, after all?
“Oh, I think he’ll behave,” Maggie interjects, assuring me with her no-nonsense tone. “He doesn’t have the school protecting him in this matter. They’ll need to help him comply or things are going to get even messier.”
I nod to Maggie, but not without noticing Karen gnawing on her cheek.
“I don’t mean to worry you, April.” Her jaw stops moving, and she reaches for the same hand her friend once held. “Maggie and I have worked closely together over the last year after realizing what’s been happening on campus, on many campuses, but we hit some walls here at times as well.”
“Let me handle that one, Karen.” The two women look at each other, something passing between the friends. It’s silent but powerful. “I’ve tapped into their system of handing off or losing these sorts of things in their red tape, but there are more of us on our side than anyone realizes. Some who have gone into the trenches just to get the proof we need to oust many of the conspirators. It’s only a matter of time,” Maggie hints with a wink in my direction. “It also helps that my brother is in internal affairs, and unlike some siblings, we talk all of the time.”
“This is bigger than I ever thought it was. I mean, I see this stuff on social media and on TV, but there were honestly times I thought I was just making it up in my head, just being paranoid, you know?” Both Maggie and Karen nod at me, their smiles cycling between knowing and wishful.
“I wish it was only a tale of fiction,” Karen muses. “But art truly does imitate life, and in these cases, it’s unfortunate.”
Maggie stands to give Karen a hug and me a supportive squeeze on my shoulder. “We’ll be with you every step of the way, girl. If your poster boy for the soccer team knows what’s good for him, he’ll comply, and he’ll bust his butt to change as much as he does when he’s playing with his ball.”
We all laugh as she walks away, leaving Karen and I to make a trip next door to the courthouse to finish and submit the paperwork before saying our goodbyes as well.
“He’ll be served soon, so prepare for a little backlash if he’s as reactive as you say. I wish I didn’t have to give you that warning, but many abusers react the same way when they’re provoked.”
Her half smile holds tension in her cheeks, reminding me of the crease in Shan’s eyes. He still hasn’t called or texted.
“Between this and what may come down about your friend’s car, he’s going to be steaming in a bath of, pardon my French, deep-shit water.”
Good.
“I wonder if Shan will report it to the police. I only know that he called his insurance agent. I doubt he’d want to just let it go and pay for it all himself, but he’s been involved in a cycle of abuse before, and he may not want to go there again.”
“Does he know everything?” she asks, sympathy softening her eyes. I don’t think she bought the “friend” bit before.
“Not all of it,” I reply before shaking my head, reminding myself not to let it fall in shame. “But what happened to his mom is truly terrible, and I think I may be reminding him too much of the fire and his dad.”
“Wait, is his mother Nicole Bends? The woman whose husband set the fire, killing himself and nearly taking her with him?” Her eyes are wide, both astonished and sad. “Her son saved her life.”
I can only nod—barely, the weight of my dejection and defeat making the movement difficult. Shan doesn’t need any more of this in his life. He’s already faced it enough, more than anyone should ever have to.
“My God, April. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you all to deal with this Derrick situation. Ms. Bends’ case is brought up to all of the new trainees when we discuss domestic abuse and ethics.” Her hands come to her hips, the belted weaponry and her stance giving her the air of a worthy advisory. “Those officers dropped the ball big time. Even Maggie’s brother was brought in on the case after all of the mishandlings in that jurisdiction’s internal affairs office. So tragic.”
“Have you ever met her?”
Karen shook her head.
“She’s a fighter.”
“So are you.”
Chapter 11
Reflections & Reminders
~
Though I am relieved to have finally put pen to paper, having set into motion something that will both make Derrick take some responsibility and hopefully lead toward change, or at least a clear warning that he is dangerous, I’m unnerved. That and a little scared.
Yesterday was both exhilarating and exhausting. Karen and Maggie are amazing, but the unknown clambers around my brain like a thief or a hell-bent ninja. Nia was on edge as well, asking me, more like demanding me, to move in with her for a while. Agreeing with her concern, I began packing a bag of clothes, books, my laptop, and anything else I could think of. It was a bizarre state of packing.
My roommate sits in our room either ignoring me completely or just staring. “So, yeah, are you sure you’re cool with Bobby staying here while you’re gone?” Her question, though directed at me, is spoken into her fingernails she pretends to find issue with. “I mean you should be since it’s your psycho ex-boyfriend that’s giving us the wrong sort of feels, ya know.”
“I’m totally sure, Heather. That’s why I told you and suggested this very thing. I don’t want my crap to impact you.”
Heather, my specter of a roommate, stays at her boyfriend Bobby’s most of the time anyhow, but according to her, his roommates are childish. I swear she came here looking for a husband, not a degree.
The eye roll she gives me makes me want to take back my concern for her, and perhaps break a nail or two. The thoughts and images of doing someone harm aren’t things I’d ever act on, but having been on the
other side of such violence, I shudder at the thought of that thin line, the sheer veil, that keeps us from that vicious choice. When does a person’s conscience finally step aside and let the primitive mind take over to do and take what it wants?
My shiver earns me another look, or maybe it was an eye roll.
“You could put on some more clothes.”
She’s just the best. Ugh.
There’s no sense in responding; I learned that early on in the semester.
“I’ll text you Nia’s information in case you need to get ahold of me for anything.”
Thumbs-up, zero eye rolls this time.
“Okay, well, take care and I’ll be in touch.”
The walk to my car is uneventful, though my eyes dart left and right, searching for any signs of payback from my ex, if he’s gotten served already. I doubt the clunky wheels of justice motor this fast, but I am tense in anticipation of anything and everything.
My car looks normal, no messages or pouring of paint to match Shan’s. I do plan on calling him once I get to Nia’s. He should know my course of action from my own mouth and not in a text—that’s just how it needs to be done.
The drive is uneventful as well, and when I get to Nia’s house, she graciously opens the door with a beaming smile on her face, something Heather has never and would never do.
“Got everything you need? I mean it isn’t like you can’t go back and get it, but, well you know.”
“Yep, everything I’ll need for a few days. Hopefully I won’t have to crash at your place longer than that,” I reply.
“You can stay as long as you want. I’m just glad I agreed to take my parents’ old, clunky pull-out couch so you have something decent to lie on.” Nia’s gaze shifts to the gray, worn but comfy couch in the living room. “It already has sheets on it, so it’ll be ready to go when we pull it out. I can grab your other stuff for you.”
“Thanks, my comforter is in there still and my other bag.” I sound so blasé when I need to sound more appreciative. I hate imposing on others, but this is one of those once-in-a-lifetime things, and Nia is a true friend. Another thing that doesn’t come around very often, but the good kind.
“I need to call Shan,” I call to her since she has already snagged my keys and bolted to my car. “Can I use your room?”
“Of course,” she hollers back while closing my trunk, though my fluffy cover muffled most of it.
I find Shan’s name and hover my finger over the telephone icon, hesitating to initiate the call. It’s been nearly two full days, and nothing. I know what that means.
This doesn’t mean it’s over, you know. He could just be busy.
Maybe, but I doubt it. Chances are more likely that he came to his senses. Maybe I should come to mine too. What am I doing anyhow? Jumping to a new boyfriend after everything I’ve been through? Probably not the smartest plan, but whose heart is ever that clever anyhow?
After my eyes glaze over from their intense stare, I press the button, listening as the tinkly ring mimics the blinking screen.
“Hey. How are you? Sorry, I’ve been meaning to call you back.” His rushed words are what I want to hear, but the tone is all wrong.
“It’s okay,” I lie. “I’ve been busy as well.” I swallow as silently as possible, though the dry lump of words I don’t want to speak is making it difficult. “I won’t keep you long. I just really wanted, well, I really think you should know I filed a restraining order against Derrick with the courts yesterday.”
Silence. One, two, what seems like one hundred seconds of painful, deafening silence.
“That’s good. I’m glad you did, and I hope this gets his attention and that he leaves you alone for good.”
What he doesn’t say, not verbally, but I swear I can read his mind, is that he hopes it works out for me though it didn’t for his mom.
“I hope so, too. Nia helped do some of the legwork for me, and I have some awesome women in my corner.” I beam at the power of friendship and camaraderie. “I’m also staying here, at Nia’s, for a while, just to make sure he doesn’t overreact when they serve him”—like he probably did with your car—“you know, just in case you decide you want to hit up the cafeteria again. I won’t be there for a few days.”
“I go there for more than the food.”
See.
“I know.” I think.
There is a slamming door, and loud footsteps echo across our connection.
“Shan? Hey, man, it’s all cleaned up and they’re bringing us a new trashcan, so we’re all good.” Movement and a sound of motion come next. “Oh, damn, sorry man. I didn’t realize you were on the phone. Is it? Never mind, sorry.”
The same footsteps retreat, echoing my thoughts of my own escape. Something has happened. I can tell.
“What happened?” My breath comes in heaves. “Is this why I haven’t heard from you? Something else happened, didn’t it?”
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
But I don’t care. I’m not going to let someone keep things from me, again, or blow me off. That April is long gone.
“It’s nothing. Just some prank, I’m guessing.”
“Another prank?” I seethe. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”
“No one was hurt or in danger, really.” His pause is telling. “We got to it quick.”
“Got to what quick? Come on, Shan. You’re dancing around this because you think it’s Derrick, don’t you?” How I wish my ex would stay the hell out of my life! “Did you ever tell the police you thought he did that to your car?”
“I can take care of Derrick,” he responds coolly. “It was just a fire in the trashcan outside. It could have been the homeless needing some warmth, for all we know.”
“Someone is messing with you, Shan. And a fire? After what happened?” I won’t cry. I won’t.
“Someone could have just tossed a butt in there. We aren’t jumping to conclusions. We were home, so no harm done. We all agreed if someone wanted to really do some damage, they would have waited till there weren’t any cars in the driveway.”
His deep intake may have been to calm himself or out of exasperation for my concern. Either way, it sucks. I stay silent, with my jaw clenched so tightly I could start my own match between my teeth.
Another door slams and multiple footsteps follow the grating noise.
“Yo, are we doing this? We know where he is.”
Now I stop breathing.
“Look, April, we’re just going to talk to Derrick. Some of his teammates are helping us have a sit-down. It’ll help resolve this crap and let him know to back off from you. I have to do something,” he says in his protector voice. “As for the fire and the paint, I’m going to ask him about it, but there’s also been chatter about other pranks with paint around campus, so I don’t think I was targeted.”
This would have all been nice to know, but instead I’ve gotten silence and right now it seems to have been either brushed off or more of a calm-the-hell-down-April vibe. I don’t like either.
“Well, that’s good,” is all I can manage. The timing is still too coincidental for me, but Shan doesn’t seem to agree—or maybe he doesn’t care. If he backs away, which I fear he is, then this will all go away. For him, at least.
But he’s trying to help you. He’s telling Derrick to back off. He’s protecting you.
Then why the radio silence?
“You’ll be at Nia’s for a while, right?”
Great small talk. “Yes.”
“I’ll give you a call later. Don’t worry, seriously, things are under control.”
“I hope so. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” Again.
“And nothing will, to me or to you. That, I can promise.”
The response is heroic and not the cool tone he had been giving me in his explanations. Maybe he was trying to keep calm for the both of us, and I’m the one overreacting.
Yeah, maybe you are reading this all wrong.
I have rights.
“I’ll talk to you later then?”
“Yes, and April, you’ve done the right thing with the restraining order.”
“Thank you. The court date won’t be fun, but I don’t mind facing him. He doesn’t scare me.” Anymore.
“I’ll be right there!” he bellows to his invisible roommate. “I’ve got to run. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay.”
“And April, you are amazing. You’re everything I have ever wanted.”
“You are too.”
Goodbyes end the call, and my mind flips around inside of my head like a fish struggling to find some fount of water from the dock. What just happened and what is happening? Aside from his first statement about meaning to call me, he said nothing about the time he just took away from me, from us. Yes, it’s early in the relationship, and two days may not seem like much, but when you’ve been all over each other over the phone and in person, it seems like forever.
Maybe he just needed some time to figure things out. He’s obviously been working on things to help you. He is meeting with the asshat.
Speaking of asses, I don’t believe this coincidence thing. Derrick is too controlling to not have been behind everything that’s happening to Shan. First the paint that reminded me of flames dripping toward the pavement, and then an actual fire outside his house. He must have found out about his family and is using it to trigger Shan, to force him to react. How he’ll react is the question. Will this “talk” lead to a fight, which Derrick can weasel out of and Shan won’t? Or will it cause my new love to walk away from the sheer reminders of his terrifying past? Either option sucks big-time. I hate the thought of Shan suffering due to the correlations of my past with his own. While his is in the past, at least terms of time, mine continues.
He didn’t seem to think he was battling his past. Only you do.
Maybe, but I’ve also learned to read people better.
Or maybe to mistrust them more.
Now that is possible, and one of the common responses to abusive trauma like mine. Yet I’m also not an idiot—not that Shan is, but I’m not going to ignore clear, flashing signs.
A Protector's Touch: A New Adult College Romance & Romantic Suspense Novel Page 9