By Teresa Lyons
“I love you so much.” I say in between breathless kisses.
“I love you, too.” he answers me as he leaves my lips to trail kisses down my jaw to my neck.
I sigh as I enjoy the feel of his perfect lips against my skin, his tongue making periodic appearances as he licks me. Gradually, he pulls back and looks deep into my eyes, his bright vivid sparkling blue eyes. I could get lost in those eyes and have many times. When I see those eyes, I know what love is. I will not lose this. I will not lose him. I had lost my previous boyfriends due to my psycho father. Now that he is no longer part of my life, I feel like I can relax for the first time in years. Sitting here making out with my boyfriend, Charles is the best feeling in the world. We have been together for a few months and although we have yet to make love, I am happier than I have been in years.
“You ok?” Charles asked. “You look a million miles away.” Gently, he takes my chin in his strong beautiful fingers. His other hand reaches up to brush my light brown hair off my face.
“Yes. I am perfect.” I reply. I check the time. It’s late and I have to work early. “Better say good night.”
“Why say good night?” Charles leans in to kiss my neck again. “You have a perfectly good bed.”
“True, but I need sleep and if we share, I doubt we would sleep.” I answer although extremely tempted to let him stay.
“Alright, it’s a good thing I love you.” Charles kissed my neck a final time and gets to his feet.
I walk him out to his car. We share another long lingering kiss in which a run my fingers through his curly brown locks.
“I love you.” I say again.
“I love you, too. See you tomorrow.” Charles gets in his car.
As he drives away, I get a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach. It came out of nowhere. I feel a sense of fore boarding. I shake it off as just being tired and go inside.
The next day, I am at work early. I work as a paralegal. The work is sometimes tedious, but overall I enjoy it. Most of my time is spent looking up precedents for cases the big shot lawyers are working on. As the day wears on, my feeling of dread increases. I can’t help but worry. It makes it hard for me to concentrate so as a result I don’t get much done that day.
At the end of the day, I bolt for my car and head for the local bar where Charles and I are supposed to meet. Only he never shows. I check my phone frequently hoping for a call or a text. I receive nothing. I text. Then I call. No response. Phone goes straight to voicemail. I find this odd. He always answers me. Something is wrong I can feel it. Jumping to my feet, I rush to my car and drive over to his place in a frantic rush. I’m surprised I’m not in an accident or pulled over the way I am driving.
I see his car parked in his spot at his apartment complex. I hurry up to his door. I bang loudly on the door. No answer. I try the knob. Surprisingly, the door is unlocked. Guardedly, I step inside and gasp. The place is a wreck. The furniture is overturned, drawers have been pulled out and dumped, his clothes are scattered all over the place. It looks like he’s been robbed. I run through the apartment screaming his name. The place is empty of all human life.
I am about to call the police when I spy a note on the table. Slowly, I approach it like it’s a bomb that is about to detonate.
If you ever want to see your boyfriend again,
Come to the Motel on the outskirts of town. Hollywood Motel. Room 666.
I dropped the note like it burned my hand. My psycho father had found me and now had Charles. I was furious. My eyes literally burned red. If I had heat vision, the place would be on fire right now. How dare he return and kidnap my boyfriend to get to me. He is not getting away with this again. He will not scare off another boyfriend. No one will take Charles from me. He is the love of my life.
Angrily, I stumble out to my car. Hidden under the seat, I’ve got a colt 45. It’s been hidden there for quite some time. I have been anticipating that bastard to find me, but this I did not expect. I tuck the gun once I check for ammo into the waistband of my pants and cover it with my shirt. Then I head for the motel.
When I reach the motel, I quickly locate the room. Figures he would choose a room that was numbered 666. After all, he is a devil. The man verbally and physically abused me for years. Drove my mother to drink herself into oblivion and my brother vanished from sight. I hadn’t heard from him in years. I escaped once my mother “left” to go home to help out her sick sister. I haven’t heard from her either. My aunt recovered and let me know that my mom was now a recluse. She rarely left her room and drank daily. My father beat me one day for no particular reason that I could see and then drank himself into a stupor. I grabbed the very basic necessities and bolted that night. I had been saving for years. I didn’t have a lot but it got me an extremely cheap one room apartment in another town. With a job and the college, I managed to make a decent living.
Now I thought I had finally been able to put that man behind me. I had purchased a small two-bedroom home and had a decent paying job. Suddenly, my father shows up ready to rip all of it away from me. Including Charles. Over my dead body. If he wanted a showdown, he was about to get one. Anger ripped through me again. I was no longer the weak scared little girl that be used to beat up. Along with going to college, I had taken self defense courses and learned how to handle and shot a variety of different hand guns. This one was my favorite. Small and relatively easy to handle. I hoped I would never have to use it, but here I was, gun tucked in my back pocket.
Glancing around, I see a few cars parked but no people. I make my way to the motel door. I pause and listen. I hear nothing from inside. As I passed other rooms, I could clearly hear people talking, yelling, watching tv. Even one couple that was clearly having sex. The walls were apparently thin. Reaching the desired room, I hear nothing. I hope I’m not too late. Taking a deep breath, I raise my hand curled into a fist and knock hard and fast three times.
The door jerks open. There stands the one man I never wanted to see again. He looks just like a remember him. Balding head with strands of red hair combed over the side to try to hide the fact that he’s going bald. His eyes are small and beady and narrowed in anger. His face has signs of a beard coming in. The red mixed with white hairs. He has on a wrinkled dress shirt along with wrinkled grey pants.
“You fucking bastard!” I shout at him and shove my way past him.
Charles is gagged and bound to a chair. He is also unconscious. I swing around to face my father.
“If you have hurt him, so help me…” I’m too angry to even finish my statement.
“He’s fine. Idiot wouldn’t shut up so I made him.” my father replied his words slurred. So he was drunk again. Big surprise. I couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t drunk.
“You bastard.” I said again. My anger was limiting my vocabulary at the moment. “What the hell?” My hands curl into fists. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to claim what was mine. And that’s you baby girl.” He stated simply.
“No way! I am not your baby girl. I am a grown woman. I protect what’s mine.” I growl.
“Who him?” he shakes his head. “You can do so much better, Darling.”
“No one will ever measure up in your eyes, but that doesn’t matter. He is what I want. And I want you gone!” I was itching to whip out my gun and blow his brains out, but I didn’t want to go to jail. The only way I could legally shot him and get away with it is to call self defense. But at the moment, he had yet to do anything to me. “You know you will go to jail for this. Kidnapping is against the law,.
“Oh look at you. Know the laws do you?”
“That I do. I work for a law firm.” I reply.
“My baby girl a hot shot lawyer? Well, then you can be my defense attorney.”
“You are crazy. I wouldn’t defend you in a million years. Prosecute, yes. Defend hell no!”
Charles stirred and groaned. I rushed to his side. “Charles, it’s me. Are you ok?” I ask him.
“What happened?” His eyes opened. “Look out!” he suddenly shouted.
I turned in time to see a fist about to collide with my face. I ducked and his fist missed me by about an inch. I jumped away from Charles. He had been hurt enough.
“You want to fight, old man? Bring it on!” I shout. “It’s time to have this out here and now. You have no control over me anymore.”
“Who is this guy?” Charles asked groggily.
“I’m her father, kid. And just listen to how she talks to me.”
“Don’t listen to him, Charles. He’s a lowlife bastard. He beat me, drove my mother into seclusion and I have no idea where my brother is thanks to him. Not to mention what he did to you. Drugged you, kidnapped you, and knocked you unconscious.” I tell Charles without taking my eyes off my father.
“So this is your father?” Charles asked trying to make sense of the situation.
“Unfortunately, yes.” I reply. “I hate that I have this man’s DNA.”
“So why drag me into this?” Charles is mad not that I blame him. I just hope that bastard hasn’t driven us apart already.
“To get to me. He knew I would come if he had you. And he was right. Here I am,”
My father took a step towards Charles. My anger peaked. I whipped out my gun and pointed it directly at my father’s heart.
“Lay one finger on him and I pull the trigger. I am an excellent marksman.” I say angrily.
My father looked at me and began to laugh hysterically.
“Laugh it up all you want. You have one option.”
“I do, do I?” he says as his laughter dies down.
“Yes. Charles and I walk out of here and you are unharmed and get to go to jail.”
“That’s my only option?” he asked.
“There’s always another option. But that involves me pulling the trigger.” I shrug.
“You wouldn’t actually have shot him?” Charles asked eyes wide in wonderment.
“Only if I have to. No one will take you from me. Especially him.” I state firmly. “I love you, Charles. I’m not trying to scare you. I just want this psycho to understand that I am no longer the scared child he got pleasure out of beating.”
Charles is looking at me like he doesn’t even know me. The truth is, he doesn’t. He had no idea that I had abusive father let alone one that would do something like this.
“Charles, we can talk about this later. I know I have a lot to answer for, but one thing at a time.” I say hoping that I haven’t doomed our relationship.
“She won’t shoot me. She doesn’t have the guts.” my father quips.
Checking the silencer, I aim the gun at the floor near his feet and pull the trigger. He jumps back when he feels the impact of the bullet on the floor.
“Want to further test that theory?” I ask him coldly.
Keeping one eye on my father, I reach down to untie Charles’ hands. Once his hands are free, I step away and keep the gun trained on my father. Charles unties his legs and unsteadily gets to his feet.
“Shouldn’t you call the police?” Charles asks.
“No need. My father is going to leave town and never ever bother me or anyone I care about again, yes?” I look my father straight in the eyes.
Defeated, he nods. I lower my gun. It’s then that my father leaps towards me. I quickly raise the gun, but he slams into me before I can reach the trigger. Why did I fall for that? I knew better. I fall onto the floor with a grunt with him on top of me reaching for my throat. I know his intent is to choke me. The gun is still in my hand but trapped between us. I can’t get leverage to be able to shot him. I use my self defense techniques instead. I raise my knee hard and fast. It collides with his groin. I use the moment of pain to take my free hand and poke him hard in the eyes. Howling, he rolls off me. I jump to my feet. I point the gun at his upper leg and pull the trigger. The bullet slams into his upper thigh only inches from his groin. He lay on the floor gasping and crying in pain his hands covering the bullet wound.
“You’ll go to jail for attempted murder!” he shouts. “If not murder!”
“Oh shut up. You’re not dying. I missed any major arteries.” I snap and pull out of cell phone. “I gave you a get out of jail free card but you refused to take it.”
I call 911. The police arrive within minutes along with the paramedics. They treat his leg wound and then hand him off into police custody. Charles gives his statement and I give mine. Charles gets taken to the hospital to get checked out since he claimed to be drugged and then assaulted. He refused to talk to me. I feel my heart breaking. That bastard possibly has destroyed the best thing that ever happened to me.
During the next few days, Charles refuses to answer to return my calls or texts. Answers at his door go unanswered as well. At this point, any response would be good even if he told me he never wants to see me again.
At the courthouse for the trial of my father Charles comes in and sits as far from me as possible. He gives his testimony and leaves the room. I try to make eye contact with him, but he acts like I am not there. It is as if I am a ghost to him. My heart shatters. I am dead to him. We are through. When my turn comes, I give my version of what happened along with the back story of our troubled relationship. In the end my father is given the maximum sentence for kidnapping and assault. He wasn’t given life, but 20 years with the option of parole in 10 years. I sigh. At least I am getting at least 10 years without him bothering me. I had also had a restraining order put in place. He is not allowed within a one-mile radius of me ever again.
Getting my father out of my life was a huge weight off my shoulders. The sad part was that it cost me the one man I truly loved. Charles never spoke to me again. His number changed and the last time I checked his apartment, it was empty. He was gone. I would never see him, kiss him or hold him again. The irony of the situation was that as much as I blamed my father for breaking us up, I contributed to losing him too. No one will take him from me but me. I sobbed into my pillow yet again.
For the first time, I truly understood why my mother gave up on life and hid out in a bedroom drinking. I was so tempted to curl up and never leave my bed, but I got up each day went to work and then returned home. I curled up in bed as soon as I got home only to do that the next day. Day after day, I lived like that. Only doing what was necessary to survive. I ate, I slept, I washed, paid bills, etc.
Someday, I would get over losing Charles. Someday.