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I come to a halt and creep toward the door. I’m surprised to find it open when I turn the knob. For some reason, I feel like whatever’s going on in there is something that happens behind locked doors.
And I’m right.
I open the door and stick my head in to see the supposedly happy couple whose love is being celebrated back there.
Mr. and Mrs. Prince.
There’s a huge difference between their heights and right now, it shows in the most dangerous way. Mr. Prince is towering over her smaller, thinner frame and his hand is wrapped around the same wrist Zach was asking about yesterday.
He says something to her, but in a low voice that even I can’t hear, and when she replies something haltingly, he gives it to her.
Oh my God.
He hits her, slaps her cheek and she hardly makes a sound. A whimper, that’s it. Even lower than the one I heard.
How many times has he hit her for her to not make a sound? For her to be trained to go quiet?
It looks like he’s going to hit her again and I burst through the door.
“Get away from her,” I shout as I charge at him.
They both look startled at my sudden appearance. And unhappy. But I don’t care.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, you old fuck?” I push at his chest when I reach him. “She’s your wife! And she’s sick.”
Zach’s dad is frozen but only for a second before he growls and charges back at me. He pushes me in retaliation and Jesus, it hurt.
My chest feels battered and he’s only shoved me a few steps back.
Breathing with difficulty, I come at him again. Both with my fists and my words. “You’re a bully, you know that? A fucking bully and I’m going to fuck you up so bad.”
I punch him in the face to show him what I mean. His head swivels to the side but he recovers pretty quickly.
“You bitch,” he snarls at me.
I hear Zach’s mom screaming in the background. Stop it, don’t hurt him. Who said you could come in here?
But then, my hearing goes to shit.
Zach’s dad lays a hard slap on me that sends me crashing to the floor, busting my knees and jarring the breath out of me.
It takes me a few moments to recover.
A few moments to catch my breath and a few moments to realize that I’ll live through the crippling pain.
Just as I gather enough energy to even think about sitting up and going back at it with Mr. Prince, someone’s at my side.
It’s Tina and Grace.
They are both sitting me up, asking me if I’m doing okay but I’m still a little disoriented. I don’t compute how they can be here, by my side. They should be at the party.
I can’t compute the noises that are coming from a distance.
Blinking, I try to focus, and I gasp painfully when I see Zach.
He’s bent over his dad, straddling him actually, and he’s punching him.
Repeatedly. Over and over.
His punches are ferocious and his arm ripples with his fury. God, he’s scary like this. So angry and unhinged.
I almost feel bad for his dad.
Somewhere off to the side, I hear Mrs. Prince shouting. Some of the staff members are holding her back. And a few are inching toward Zach, probably to stop him.
“Zach,” I whisper raggedly.
There’s no way that he can hear me but I try again, anyway.
“Zach, stop.”
His dad isn’t moving and I’m sure he’s killed him. Or if not, then he’s going to.
I open my mouth to tell him again when he stops abruptly.
Panting, he grabs his dad’s collar, who’s alive, thank God, and growls, “Don’t ever touch her again. Do you understand? Not ever. Because I’ll kill you with my bare hands. Like I should’ve done three years ago. And this time, Mom’s not gonna come save you.”
His dad doesn’t answer him; I don’t think he can.
Zach lets him go with a jerk and stands up, before turning to me like a compass that always points north.
His eyes flash with fear and he takes a step toward me, but then all hell breaks loose.
The room gets thrown in chaos when cops barge in.
Someone must have called 911. They come in, check the state of the room, talk to a crying Mrs. Prince, start firing orders.
And before I can even stand up, they take Zach away.
It happens so fast that it leaves me dizzy and nauseated.
One of them approaches me and says that he needs me to make a statement once I’m through with the doctor.
“There’s a doctor?” I ask, shocked, surprised and so many other things that I can’t even fathom right now. “What… where did you take Zach?”
“He’s been taken in for questioning,” he says, casually. “You don’t need to worry about that.”
“But he was…”
