Page 26 of Break Me Beautifully

"No," he says, noting the masses of people all fighting for the next yellow cabs as they went so far as to stand in the street to wave them down. "The Jackal's Den isn't far. We can walk."

"Have you been there before?"

"I know it," he murmurs, leading the way down the sidewalk.

It's cold out, but I barely notice because I'm ecstatic. This night has been much more interesting than when I was in the city as a child.

Staying by his side, I shoot a few glances up at Marshall. He walks with confidence, not checking his phone the way I would if I wasn't sure where I was going. I don't even notice him reading street names.

We're passing a few apartment buildings when I hear a shrill voice. "Stop it! Leave him alone!"

Marshall freezes on the spot. His head tilts slightly, like he's tuning in to the noises. "Did you hear ..." he starts to say before a sharp yelp splits the air. All at once he bolts in a direction.

"Marshall!" I shout, jogging to keep up. His long legs propel him down a side street so fast I struggle not to lose sight of him. Laughter echoes from around the corner, coming from behind a dumpster. Multiple people's voices overlap.

"Hey!" someone yells, just as I come around to lay eyes on the scene. Two boys, probably as young as my teenage sister, are crowding around something on the ground. Another boy, bigger than them, is holding a small girl with a shock of red hair in his arms as she fights to get away.

She's not trying to run, though. Her eyes are fixed on the dog the boys are taunting. It looks old with fur patchy in places and eyes bulging. It's terrified. How could it not be when they've got it leashed to the dumpster while they aim a firework at its face?

They haven't lit it yet, but I see the lighter in one of the kid's hands.

I'm furious, ready to start demanding answers, but I don't get a chance.

Marshall is two steps ahead of me.

"Hey!" one of the boys says when Marshall snatches him by the wrist that holds the firework. "Let go me of, what the hell?"Marshall’s face is expressionless as he lifts the kid off the ground. His friend goes wide-eyed and drops the lighter. "What do you think you're doing to that dog?" Marshall seethes.

"None of your business! Let go of me!"

"Wrong answer." Marshall tosses the kid to the ground, whirling to focus on the others. The girl has gone pale as can be, her mouth open as she stands there. She doesn't react when the boy who'd been trapping her lets go and bolts it down the alley, clearly not wanting to see what Marshall will do next.

"Are you okay?" I ask her when I run over, grabbing her shoulders, getting her to focus on me.

"Yeah?" She sounds surprised. Blinking at me, she pushes past so she can hug the dog. "Oh my gosh, are you okay, Hilda?"

The dog wags its tail, licking her face, trying to climb into her arms. She's smiling in relief, untangling the leash to release her pet. It's a wonderful sight, but I'm staring at Marshall.

He's still holding the boy in the air. I don't know how he can do it for so long while the kid swings and kicks. Marshall doesn't budge. "What," he says in a gritty tone, "were you doing to that dog? Answer me."

"Nothing! Just having some fun!" the boy yowls. His fingers scrape over Marshall's jacket sleeve, his anger transforming to legit fear the longer he dangles in the man's firm grip.

"Marshall," I say urgently, "let him down, he's just a kid."

"So?"

"The dog is fine, everything is fine," I insist.

"They were going to set off a firework in that animal's face," he snarls, eyes flashing wildly at me. Even a hint of his rage makes my knees quake. Something in my face makes him study me closer. Slow as molasses he runs his gaze over to the dog and the girl. I wonder what he's thinking.

Turning back to the grunting kid, Marshall whispers, "Never do anything like this again. If you do, I'll find out, and then I'll see what sort of soundsyoumake when you've got no one around to help you." He drops the kid who lands hard. Scraping backwards on all fours, he flips over and bolts out of sight in the direction his companions went.

Marshall spots me staring at him. He holds my eyes as the disgust continues to simmer in him. What happened here, what he prevented, nourishes a budding emotion inside of me. I knew Marshall could be cruel.

It's a relief to witness him being kind.

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As much as I insistedthat I wanted to go to the Jackal's Den, I'm doing my best to act excited as we approach the dark building with a line of people curving down the walkway.

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