It was getting dark out, and so I didn't recognize the large man that stepped into my path. I squinted warily at the one who had stopped my progress, trying to make him out in the dark.
"Old Sam has a fight for you," the man said, and I vaguely placed who he was. I was almost positive his name was Mike.
"Now isn't a good time," I told him, shouldering my way around him. I wasn't comfortable leaving her alone near that old man for even a minute, not in the darkness, where no one would care what was happening.
I began to walk briskly towards the warehouse, my eyes shifting around frantically, trying to make out all of the shadowed shapes.
"You'll be sorry if you get on his bad side!" Mike shouted at my back.
I completely ignored him.
I was almost to the broken side entrance when I heard a faint noise down the alleyway. It had been a muffled grunt, a feminine one, and that was enough to have me tearing down the alley with no hesitation.
I saw the old pervert first, since he was on her back. He already had his pants down around his ankles, and was working at the front of her pants with one hand. The other was over her mouth.
He cursed, drawing the hand at her mouth away to punch the back of her head at the same time that she screamed.
I pounced with a furious roar. My vision went red for a long time, and I couldn't form a coherent thought again until I felt a soft touch on my shoulder.
"You can stop. He won't be bothering me now," she said, her voice soft and gentle.
I stopped beating his head against the ground, letting go to study my bloody hands.
She tugged on my shirt, trying to get me to stand. "Come on. I know a place where you can clean up. You shouldn't have to have his filthy blood on your hands."
She took my arm and began, in that gentle way of hers, to lead me behind the building. Her every touch was like a question. She was sure of her actions, but I didn't think she was capable of being bossy.
I looked at her, so afraid of what I'd see in her eyes.
She met my look, and hers was full of gratitude and understanding, and not an ounce of fear. "Thank you so much. I didn't know that there really were nice men in the world. I thought that was a myth, but you saved me."
That did it. I was lost.
"I'm Bianca," she said with a sad smile, her eyes a little lost, as she cleaned me up.
"I'm Stephan," I told her numbly. It had been so long since anyone had cared for me, or touched me in any way, that I felt almost in shock at her actions.
"You're like me," she said quietly, still working gently to wash the blood from my hands and wrists. She didn't look up.
I had to clear my throat to speak. "What do you mean?"
She glanced up then, meeting my eyes squarely. I saw the strength in her from those eyes, and her quiet resolve. "You can never go back home."
My jaw clenched, and I nodded slowly.
She never showed a hint of fear for me, and the longer I knew her, the more I realized that, considering her past, she'd had every right to.
We never asked if we'd be staying together, we just never separated.
"You don't ever have to worry about me … trying what that old man tried. I'm gay, so it's not an issue," I told her the first night we slept huddled close together, sharing one thin blanket.
It wasn't only to assuage her fears that I told her. If my preferences were going to make her recoil from me in disgust, I wanted to know it sooner rather than later.
She just wiggled closer. "I wasn't worried, Stephan. It didn't even occur to me that you would try to harm me. You're a good guy-a hero. I've never been more certain of anything in my life. I feel so safe with you. Safer than I've ever felt."
Her words gave me a warm feeling in my chest, and above her head, my eyes filled with foreign tears. For the first time in years, I felt a fierce joy in my heart. Maybe I'd found a person who could love me. Maybe I'd found a family.
I was beyond relieved when James reappeared about two hours after they'd gone upstairs, though I would have been more so if Bianca had been with him. He wore only a pair of black athletic shorts, and he was covered in sweat. His hair was tied back and his eyes were scary. He carried a small laptop in his hand.
I swallowed hard. I wanted to see Bianca, needed to know that the scary thing in his eyes wasn't more than she could take, but I knew she trusted me not to interfere, and I valued that trust.
"We need to talk," he told me.
I nodded. I would take any information I could get.
He sat beside me and opened his laptop. He set it on my lap. A video was playing on the screen. I watched it for maybe a minute before I had to turn away, blushing profusely. I handed it back to him with a grimace. "Jesus! Why would you show me that, James?"