Stars.
My vision turns into a dreamy gaze. The lights from the lampposts twinkle and black dots appear everywhere. I stumble to the floor and crawl in exactly the same way I see dying soldiers in movies try to crawl away just before they get shot for good.
Where is help?
I feel Donovan’s hands on my ankles and the gravel scratches my back as the bottom bit of my flowing dress stays in place and I come down to his hands.
Somehow, someway, I see my phone slipped out when I came off the bench. I saw Taken and if this saves my life, I owe Liam Neeson.
“Please,” I beg him. “I have this fear about places that look like parks, places like this bench behind the party.”
For a second, I see his look flicker and I rush out my words. “I got bitten by a dog in an exact park like this one. Right on a path where I was walking when I was a kid. I can’t stop shaking. Not here. Anyway but here.”
He gives me an odd look, and then he steels his gaze again.
He grabs my waist, but I headbutt him. He hits me again, and when I can push through the little corners of light in my vision and the thumping subsides a fraction, I see him putting me down in the grass further in the darkness. Out of direct vision.
And then I see Nate’s figure coming behind Donovan.
I purse my lips and lie still. Donovan gets his hands bunched at the hem of my skirt before he knows he’s too late. That Nate’s hands have him at his back. And then Donovan sails through the air. He hits the ground with a thud and takes one look at Nate. My eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and I can just make him out licking his lips, wiping something from his mouth. He launches at Nate.
Donovan has force when he punches Nate’s chest, but Nate is quicker. He ducks the next one, and pins Donovan from behind. Donovan thrashes and starts to wriggle free.
Meanwhile, I’m still trying to find balance and see through the dizziness. My head is seriously messed. I’m past horrible and surely looking putrid, but every time I try to stand I wobble if I don’t hold the ground below.
Donovan ducks out of Nate’s hands and my heart lurches. Now I’ve found my balance, heels lost somewhere, and I stand, hike up my skirt and roundhouse kick Donovan. His back arches with my foot thumping him, giving Nate time to block with his forearm and twist his hands back to pin him.
Instantly, Nate drops with Donovan, pinning his weight on him facedown onto the grass. There seems less of a chance of the situation flipping from our favour, so I run to my phone. Confused for a second at why my screen looks odd, I have to press end call before I can call the cops.
Beside Nate, I whisper, “What happened?”
“I had to come. Told Scout I could see you leaving the party and to let me meet you in privacy. Of course, my sister rings, bawling her eyes out. I can’t believe—”
“Shh,” I whisper, kissing his head. “I hope she’s okay. I’m fine now.”
The sirens come within a couple of minutes, and the whole time I’m staring down at Donovan’s face.
I crouch to his level, look at him and roll my eyes. “You had me, you know. I may never understand your twisted mind, but there’s something you don’t know.” I bend closer, since Nate has his hands secured. “You don’t fuck with fucked up chicks like me. I’ve seen how you guys work and I can play you twice as hard as you play me. Thanks for …”
I trail off, realising love cured me, not dealing with my hate.
Donovan’s bottom lip trembles, and with sirens halted nearby and cops yelling with drawn guns, he panics, saying, “Why? For what?”
“You don’t need to know …”
… that you’ve made me realise I have no use fearing guys like Nate, the good ones. Not all guys are bad.
Justice has a funny way of giving hope to the hopeless.
29
Nate and his friends poked a beehive with a stick once, then ran like hell to a nearby door and watched the swarm. They created a dark haze, a buzzing to drone out everything else, and left me watching with a sense of awe.
When the police swarm in, it’s the same.
They latch onto Donovan and Nate. Nate’s cooperative but mostly silent. He won’t talk without his lawyer, but from where I stand being examined, watching him being cleaned up also, we share a silent conversation.
Kalli: Please don’t feel bad. You did nothing wrong.
Nate: I’m devastated with myself.
You wouldn’t be able to tell Nate had the upper hand during the fight through his body language. He looks up at me through drooped eyelids, his lips turned down, him biting on the edge of his lip. After a bit, he avoids my eye contact altogether when he sees me looking back.
I end up going to the hospital. My chest is tender, but I’m fully examined and it’s determined they’re ugly bruises, but it’s all they are. They found bodily fluids on me down there from when Donovan rubbed his erect length on me. He set himself up for that fuck up. I may have a concussion after those whacks, so they keep me overnight for observation.