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God, I don’t know if I’m strong enough to endure this. I know what he wants.
“You be a good girl and nothing will happen to that felon you like so much,” he reminds me.
I close my eyes and try to focus on not breathing in the rank smell of his alcohol-laced breath.
“Did you let him pop your little cherry?” Randal asks me. “Hmm?” he prompts me when I don’t answer.
He suddenly yanks hard on my ponytail, forcing me to look up at him. “Did you writhe and moan for him like a cock-hungry little slut?” He looks angry, but I feel him grow harder against me like the thought of it turns him on.
I stare up at him defiantly, glad that if I’m going to be raped by this disgusting pig that at least Damon was my first. Randal would never be able to take that from me.
As if he can read my thoughts, Randal frowns down at me, “That little cherry should have been mine, you know. I’ve been taking care of you all these years, waiting for you to grow up, and then you go out and give it away to some fucking grease monkey.”
I find it hilarious that Randal would have the nerve to trash Damon’s profession considering that he himself hadn’t held a job in years. He’d work one odd job after another, and when he did get fortunate enough to get something permanent, it would never last more than a couple of weeks before he’d fuck it up.
“You’re not even half the man he is,” I tell him with all the contempt I can muster.
Randal’s face turns red with anger as he sputters down at me. “I’ll show you how much of a man I am, you little bitch.” I feel his spittle rain down on my face, but I’m not sorry for what I said.
He raises back his hand to strike me, and I flinch before I ever feel the hit.
I hear a loud crack and wonder if he hit me so hard I can’t feel it, but then I hear an animalistic roar that doesn’t sound anything like Randal.
I open my eyes and look up to see Randal with his feet dangling out from underneath him.
Damon’s got him held up by the collar of his shirt, and he pulls his fist back and slams it forward, connecting with Randal’s face.
I hear the crunch of bone as Damon breaks his nose. Randal wails, his hands clutching his face where blood spurts from it.
Damon pulls back to swing again, but I stop him with a cry of his name, “Damon!”
I don’t give a shit about Randal and could care less if Damon beat him to a bloody pulp. It’s what he deserves, but I’m thinking of what would happen to Damon if he kills him. I don’t want him to go back to prison, away from me.
Damon pauses, looking over at me, his eyes wild.
“He’s not worth it,” I tell him gently.
“He fucking touched you!” Damon bellows.
“I’m okay,” I seek to reassure him. “You got here before he could do anything.”
Damon looks back at Randal, a battle obviously raging in his mind. He wants to kill him, but he recognizes the wisdom in my words. Damon knows better than most the consequences of being locked up.
He drops Randal with a rough shake, and Randal falls to the floor in a heap, still groaning over his nose.
Damon comes to me and wraps his arms around me, and I collapse against him. His touch is my undoing, and the sobs suddenly come pouring out of me. “He said he was going to send you back to prison if I didn’t come back,” I sob against his chest, “and I couldn’t let him do that.”
“I know, sweetheart,” Damon’s stroking my hair soothingly. “But there’s no way in hell anyone is taking me away from you. You should know that by now.” He lifts my chin and gently reprimands me, “You should have come to me.”
I sniff and nod, seeing that now. “How did you find me?” I ask him.
“I’ll always find you,” he tells me.
“You fucker!” Randal suddenly spats from where he’s still crouched on the floor. “I’ll have you locked up for this! I’ve got some friends in high places!”
Damon looks down at him with disgust before he says, “And I’ve got some in low places. Some who’ve been looking for you.”
I don’t really know what he’s talking about, but Randal’s face changes from anger to fear in a flash.
