Page 74 of The Ruckup
Trying not to make it obvious, I shift my trajectory, angling my steps away from the still open door toward the edge of the building. “We aren’t together anymore Drake. The sooner you accept that and move on, the better your life is going to be.” I know trying to reason with him is futile, but the longer I can keep him talking, the better off I think I’ll be. “You can’t keep going to jail.”
I’m not actually worried about him going to jail. I am worried about Helen the fuck he keeps getting out. Why is it so easy for violent men to be on the streets? Shouldn’t they have called to tell me he was getting out? Given me a heads up that the man who tried to kill me and has attempted to assault me multiple times in spite of a protection order is free?
“I don’t plan on continuing to go to jail.” Drake’s tone is scarily calm. “You’re going to come home, cancel the protection order, and tell the judge all of this was a mistake.”
That’s his plan? For me to make all his mistakes go away?
Actually, that is pretty expected now that I think about it.
“We’re not getting back together, and I’m not canceling the protection order.” If anything, I’m going to find out if I can make it stronger. Right after I find out why in the hell my victim’s advocate didn’t tell me Drake is free again.
Drake chuckles, the sound humorless. “I was worried you were going to try to say that.”
In the blink of an eye he lunges at me, both hands gripping my neck as he slams me back into the brick of my apartment building. My head hits the surface hard enough I see stars, and my hands automatically grab his wrist, trying to get him off me.
I’ve been here before and I thought I would be better prepared if it ever happened again. I thought I would fight. React differently than I did the last time.
But I don’t. Part of that’s because I don’t have time.
My brain is still trying to fully register what’s happening when everything is suddenly very loud. People are everywhere screaming and yelling.
And then Drake is on the ground in front of me and my Abuela is wailing on him with her walker. A group of my tenants surround her, occasionally kicking Drake if he tries to fight back. One of them holds him at gunpoint.
Another one of them is naked.
Am I dead? Did I die and this is the result of my brain’s final grasp at function?
Alexis rushes in at my side, hooking an arm around my waist as she hugs me away from whatever that is that’s happening. “You need to get inside.”
I let her get me into my apartment where she locks the door and settles me onto the couch, her cell phone pressed against her ear as she relays information to whoever’s on the other end of the call.
Like the last time Drake assaulted me, I’m in a fog. Everything feels surreal. Fake. Like it’s not really happening. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s hauntingly familiar.
I don’t know how much time passes before Leo rushes in, scooping me off the couch and in his arms, holding me tighter than he ever has.
My Abuela comes in a few minutes later looking like she’s ready to rule the world. She’s always been a confident woman, but now there’s a straightness to her spine. A tip to her chin. A glimmer in her eye.
It looks an awful lot like pride. And it makes me ask, “you didn’t kill him, did you?”
“Why would I kill him, muñeca?” She grins at me, eyes bright. “I want him to suffer for a long, long time.”
That’s a plan I can get behind.
I look up as a whole group of people come inside. There are police officers, Alexis’s friends, Betty, Sylvia, and Sharon. Even the old men who seemed to come out of nowhere are here.
Thankfully, the naked one found some clothes, because I’m not sure I have the capacity to deal with any more gray haired wiener.
Sylvia comes to sit beside where Leo has me tucked against him on the couch. She passed me on the knee. “You doing okay?”
“I think so.” I reach up to gingerly run my fingers over my neck. “I guess that depends on how soon they let Drake out of jail again.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Sylvia smiles at me in a way that makes me think she knows something, but I don’t have it in me to ask what it is.
“They’ve let him out so many times already. I’m pretty sure that is exactly what I should worry about.”
“He’s not getting out this time.” Sylvia leans close, words quiet as the police talk to Alexis and her friends. “Remember how Betty told you she could make sure you had protection?”
Are we really circling back to the mob right now?
