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Kennedy looks over too, and is understandably stunned to see me.
I place the barrel of the gun against the fuck’s temple and grab the back of his shirt. He puts his hands up like I’m the fucking police, and I yank him off her, throwing him on the ground with a loud crash and stepping on his ugly face. He cries out as I angle my foot and stomp, then there’s a sickening crack and he starts howling.
Kennedy is breathing hard, her dress torn to fucking shreds. Her panties are ripped and falling off her, and her tits are completely exposed.
Fuck.
I bring my heel down on the fucker’s broken nose again just for fun and he cries out, hitting my leg. That annoys me, so I move my foot off his face and kick him in the ribs.
“Keep pissing me off, buddy.”
He boo-fucking-hoos while I grab Kennedy’s arm, pulling her off the side of the bed. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”
I pick her up and put her down on the other side of the guy’s body so she doesn’t have to climb over him.
“Thank you,” she says, her voice cracking.
I point the gun at the asshole on the floor. “I don’t care how much pain you’re in. Move again before we’re out of this apartment and I pull the fucking trigger.”
He still holds his nose and curls up like a little bitch, but he stops moving.
I drag Kennedy out of the room.
“Are you all right?” I ask her.
She nods.
“Your panties are ripped. Did he…?”
She shakes her head. “You got here in time.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “All right. Good.” I push her into her room. “Get your shit. Whatever you need for the weekend. You’re not coming back here.”
Her mom is up off the couch now, looking worriedly down the hall. “Where’s Larry?”
I point at her. “You’re scum of the fucking earth. Don’t address me.”
Her eyes widen.
She frowns, then carefully moves around me to go check on the asshole in her bedroom.
“Hurry up,” I tell Kennedy. She’s dazed as she turns around her bedroom holding her school backpack but not seeming to know what she’s looking for.
“Oh my god!” her mom cries, so I guess she’s found her lousy boyfriend.
Kennedy starts grabbing things seemingly at random off her dresser.
Since she’s so scattered, I list things I can think of that I would need. “Do you have your phone, laptop, iPad, shit for school?”
She nods and spins around again, then she pulls open her closet and grabs a sweater, seeming to realize her tits are out. She pulls it around her, casting me a look of utter mortification.
“I didn’t look,” I tell her.
She swallows and drops her gaze, then she grabs a second bag and fills it quickly as her mom shrieks about calling the cops.
Once Kennedy has her stuff, I grab her arm to keep her close on our way out. She hurries back into the bathroom and grabs her hairbrush, then she lets me drag her down the hall.
I push her in front of me once we’re in the living room since we’re alone there. She hurries to the door and opens it, hurling herself outside and looking back to make sure no one is following us.
