With my pants now unbuttoned, he moves to his, flicking the belt off with ease and zipping down his pants.
Tears trickle down my cheeks. My body’s giving up on the fight already.
Pathetic.
His pants fall down to his ankles revealing tight underwear that show his arousal at the situation.
Disgusting.
My stomach twists in knots, vomit surfacing in my throat. I squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t want to see this. I can’t watch this happen to me.
“Jared, please,” I beg, tears pooling on my chest.
He ignores me, tugging my pants down hard, while keeping hold of my wrists.
A motorcycle roars behind me, getting louder and louder. I peek over my shoulder to see a bike speeding straight toward us, then go flying by without a rider on it right next to us as it skids on its side, tearing up the lawn.
Next thing I know, the biker’s running at us, his feet thundering on the grass. In one swift movement he leaps at Jared. I stagger out of the way, finally free from his grip.
Jared shuffles backwards but not quick enough. The biker jumps in the air, cocks his arm back and with all hisweight throws a punch at Jared on his way down, knocking him fully on his back before landing on his feet directly over him. He bends down, grabs his shirt collar and punches him one more time in the face. He shoves him hard back toward the ground, causing Jared’s head to bounce as it hits the grass.
I stand at a distance, pulling my pants back up and buttoning them while debating whether I can safely run to my car or not without them noticing me. But my mind goes quiet when I hear my savior speak.
Ben’s muffled voice screams from under the motorcycle helmet as Jared starts to get up, his pants still at his ankles.
“Stay the FUCK down, you piece of shit.” His voice shakes with anger.
Jared’s upper lip is cut, blood bubbling over his bottom lip and down his chin. More blood drips down the side of his face from under his left eye, most likely due to the silver rings always present on Ben’s hand. Ben’s hands are fisted as his side, shaking. He doesn’t have motorcycle gloves on. He always wears them. Did he rush over here? How did he know what was going on? Ben starts walking backwards toward me, keeping his eyes on Jared.
Jared’s chest heaves quickly up and down, his brain clearly calculating what to do next. He sits up quickly to make a move, but it’s too late. Ben crouches down over him and lifts his visor, his helmet inches from Jared’s face.
“If you do not stay the fuck down, I will beat you so hard that youwillloseeverything. Your life will be ruined because I’ll make damn sure your legs won’t work properly enough to run anymore. Your face will be so gruesome, you’ll never be able to look at yourself in the mirror again, let alone get another woman. You’ll be fucking lucky if you can ever grab anything with those disgusting hands of yours if you try me. I swear it, Jared. I will fucking destroy you.” He raises his finger and points it in his face. “Don’t youevertouch a woman when she says no. Don’t youeverfucking push yourself on a woman. If I hear of you trying to pull this shit again on Char, I willfuckingkill you! That’s a promise,” he threatens, his voice deep and loud.
Jared stays down, his teeth gritting in pain and fury and gives Ben the most vile look, as if he’s going to find a way to take him down and make him regret it. Ben, with a look of rage, steps over Jared and runs toward me. He grabs my hand, pulling me to run next to him toward his bike that’s still lying on its side in the grass.The tread marks from where it skidded are deep, completely ruining that section of their yard.
I can’t think. My brain can’t process everything happening. How did he know where Jared lives? How did he know what Jared was doing to me? Whose bike is he riding? It’s not his usual red or black one.
He picks up the bike, kicks it on and yells over the engine noise, “Get on!”
Without hesitation, I obey.
I wrap my arms around his waist as we speed off toward the front of the house. The wind’s cold as ice as it dries my tears, but the coolness calms me enough to stop the crying. I close my eyes, embracing the sting, the rush of wind and noise of my brain being drowned out by the engine.
He stops in the valet lot where my car’s the only one left and puts his feet on the ground to hold the bike steady for me to get off. My legs are unsteady, almost giving out when they hit the pavement, but with resolve they stay steady enough, enabling me to shakily walk to my car in a daze.
“I’ll follow you home,” he shouts over the sound of the bike, flipping his visor back down.
I nod, unable to speak and start up my car.
It’s a torturous drive home. Scenarios of what could’ve happened haunt me in the silence. A staggering whiplash of emotions runs through in succession, mocking me. Anger the most prevalent. Anger at myself for getting in that situation. Anger at the piece of shit Jared turned out to be. Tears cloud my vision as the anger releases.
Has he done this to someone else before?
Was this what he planned to do all along to me? Damnit, I’m so naive.
I blink fast to clear my vision, the road becoming hard to see through the cloudiness of the tears.
The only thing keeping me sane is seeing Ben’s headlight in my rearview mirror.
