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  When we got ready to leave, Mom hugged me and thanked me for coming and for “everything,” she said. Then she whispered, but not in the least bit quietly, “He’s hot baby and I like him. He’s a keeper, I think.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Paul Delport, give me a hug,” she said. Paul obliged and when he pulled back she said, “Thank you for coming to meet me today. I hope it’s not too weird for you to meet Jessie’s mother in a place like this.”

  “No ma’am. It wasn’t weird at all. It was really nice to meet you. I wish you the best of luck.”

  “It was wonderful to meet you. In case you wondered, I approve Jessie’s choice of a boyfriend. I think you just might be what the doctor ordered for my girl. Take care of her for me, will you?”

  “I will do that,” he said. He looked a little sad then and I suspected he was thinking about Mitch. I didn’t think of what that creep did to me as his fault, but I think Paul was carrying around a lot of guilt over it. I hoped that Mitch didn’t get out for a long time mostly because I was so afraid of what Paul was going to do to him when he did. I wouldn’t care what he did if I wasn’t worried about what the consequences would be for Paul. The last thing I wanted was for him to ruin his life defending me.

  When we finally broke away from Mom and I left this week’s payment at the front desk, we stepped out into the sunlight and I said, “Thank you for today. Thank you for being so good to her. She doesn’t experience men who treat her with respect very often.”

  “She’s nice,” he said. “I can see that she really loves you. It was what always “saved” my mother in my eyes, I think. I didn’t understand why she lived the way she did, or let my dad treat us the way she did, but I knew she loved us. I used to try and tell her that she needed to have more respect for herself and then Dad wouldn’t find it so easy to disrespect her. Anyways, I think that’s probably your mother’s only problem. She needs to learn how to like herself and then more people will like her in return.”

  “Wow, you should have been a…” We were walking across the small parking area. I stopped talking and stood completely still listening. I didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary. I had a strange feeling though…”

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I just got a weird feeling,” I told him, honestly.

  “Weird how?”

  “Like someone was watching me,” I said. I shuddered. It was probably just my PTSD.

  Paul was so used to looking over his shoulder that he didn’t just shrug it off though. He looked around and walked with his hand on my arm until we got to the car. I saw him glance in the backseat of the car before he opened the door and even into the car next to his. Neither of us saw anyone. I was sure now that it had been my imagination, but I still appreciated that he didn’t just shrug me off. Mitch was in jail, who else would it be?

  We were a few blocks from the rehab when Paul said, “I need to stop for gas and then if you want we can grab some lunch.”

  “Lunch sounds good,” I told him. “How about that new Thai place by the gym? I’ve wanted to try it.”

  “Sounds good.” There was a Chevron on the corner near the stoplight and he pulled into it and stopped at the pump.

  “I’m going inside to get a water,” I told him. “You need anything?”

  “Nope, I’m good.” He got out and put his card in the pump and I headed into the store. I found the water I was looking for and took it to the counter. I was about to set it down when I saw the stuff my nightmares were made of outside the window. Mitch was here. At first my brain didn’t really process it because he wasn’t supposed to be here. I could only see him from behind, but I was sure it was him and that was when I realized that he had something in his hands and he was just about to swing it on Paul who had his back to him. I dropped the water bottle to the floor and ran out screaming Paul’s name. I think I even shoved an older lady out of my way. I didn’t care. I had to get to him. He turned at the sound of my voice, just in time for the tire iron to connect with the side of his face. Paul flew back about a foot and landed on his back on the ground.

  I screamed again. My phone was in the car so I started screaming for someone to call the cops. I wanted to go help him but I knew it would be pointless. Mitch would just turn that tire iron in his hands on me. I found out the hard way that he wasn’t gender-specific when it came to handing out his beatings. People around me got on their phones right away but I had to stand there and watch in horror as Mitch walked over to where Paul had gone down and he raised the crowbar again. I saw Paul reach up as he did and try to grab it out of his hands. He didn’t get ahold of it, but his motions seemed to block some of the force of the blow. It still caught him on the chin and when Mitch jerked it back out of his hands I saw Paul’s palms were all bloody. I was horrified and I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath.

  Paul rolled away and started to get to his feet. Mitch brought the metal bar down and caught him on his left side. He hit with such force and right against Paul’s ribs that I was sure Paul wouldn’t be able to walk away without at least one of them being broken. When the bar connected, Paul fell back to the ground and I could tell he was trying to catch his breath. There were people everywhere…just watching. Why didn’t someone do something? I couldn’t stand it any longer and I started going towards them. An older man in a business suit grabbed me and said, “The police are on their way. Don’t go over there, honey. You’ll get hurt too.”

  “I can’t stand it. Why were the police taking so long?” As the man held me back, I saw Paul stumbling up to his feet again, reaching out to grab one of the pumps to steady himself. Mitch pulled back the bar again to get ready to swing and this time Paul got ahold of it. I watched as he wrenched it from his hands. I could see his chest moving rapidly and I was suddenly afraid that he was going to use that iron bar to finally, once and for all put an end to Mitch. It wasn’t that I wouldn’t have loved watching it but I was so worried for Paul.

  He proved me wrong by tossing the tire iron aside and going at Mitch with his fists. He landed a right cross and when Mitch came at him with a punch of his own I couldn’t help but be a little bit proud at the way Paul moved his feet and got out of the way. The punch missed, so Mitch threw another. Paul caught his arm and used Mitch’s own momentum to swing around and land a round kick to Mitch’s side. Then as Mitch went down he grabbed his arm to bring it up and pin it behind his back. Mitch probably could have wrenched free, but he was struggling too hard and that was his mistake. He lost his footing at last and they both went down to the hot pavement. Thank God, Paul landed on top. In an instant he had his muscular arm wrapped across the other man’s fat throat. He got him in a choke hold and within seconds Mitch looked ready to pass out. I could hear the sirens and I knew that help was coming. I finally let myself breathe.

  Paul didn’t release his hold on Mitch until he passed out. Then, it looked like he just relaxed it a little bit. But that was good, he wasn’t set on killing him…today at least. The police cars came screeching in and as I was thanking God I suddenly heard them screaming at Paul…

  “Let go of him and put your hands in the air.” He suddenly had three guns trained right at him. All I could do was pray that none of these guys knew or liked Mitch and that Paul wouldn’t make any sudden movements.

  Paul was too smart to screw with the police. He released his hold on Mitch and put his hands in the air. Once again I was horrified. I watched two of the officers each grab one of his arms and pull him off of Mitch. The third officer still had his gun trained on Paul as the put him face down onto the black pavement and handcuffed him behind his back.

  “Stop it! Stop it!” I was screaming at them, still trying to pull free of the business man’s grasp. “It’s not him! It’s the other one. That man is supposed to be in jail. He assaulted Paul with a crow bar.”

  While one of the officers checked Mitch for a pulse, the other one came over where I was standing and still screaming, “It’s
not him!”

  “Miss, listen to me,” he said. “It’s procedure. If he didn’t start the fight and his friend over there is okay…he’ll be let go. We have to talk to the bystanders first and get the story straight. You need to find a place to sit down and calm down. I wouldn’t want you to end up in trouble too. Someone will be talking to you soon though, so do not leave.”

  I nodded and licked my dry lips. Here we go again. The cop started to walk away and I said, “Hey, don’t let him tell you he’s one of you. He may have a badge, but he’s scum. He beat me so badly that I was in the hospital with a punctured lung a broken arm and a dislocated one just a few weeks ago. He’s supposed to be in jail. Please take him back there.”

  The cop looked like he wasn’t sure if he should believe me or not, but with a neutral expression he said, “We’ll figure it all out, Miss.”

  I had to watch as Paul was shoved, still bleeding into the back of a patrol car. I almost thought it might be worth getting arrested myself to go help him. Mitch was waking up and I could hear him moaning. I was s tempted to run over and kick him in the throat myself. I was itching to do something. I felt so helpless. Two ambulances eventually showed up as one of the police officer’s was interviewing the witnesses. They loaded Mitch into one immediately. I answered the officer’s questions, the whole time keeping an eye on the ambulance where they were checking out Paul. Mitch was taken to the hospital right away. I did my best to convince the officer that he was supposed to be in jail. What the hell was he doing out already? The officer went to his car and made a phone call. When he came back I could see the frown lines in his face as he said, “Mitch was released on bond today. The judge gave him a low bail amount. He didn’t think he was a danger or a flight risk since he had no history of anything violent before the attack on you. I would suggest a restraining order….”

  “Right, that will help. I can fight him off with a piece of paper.” Rationally I knew none of this was this officer’s fault. He was only trying to help. But I was pissed and he was the one standing in front of me at the moment. “He has history,” I told him. “He was just smart enough not to get caught. Being a cop gets him out of it too. He doesn’t deserve that badge. He’s a disgusting excuse for a human being.” The officer neither agreed nor disagreed with me on that point.

  Book 5 Comes Out March 1st

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