Page 47 of Free Fall

Mybestfriendlookedat me, full of rage.

I slumped.

Only accepting what was coming, what else was there? I stood, without a stitch of clothing on, beside his naked, well-fucked daughter, and I had nothing to say. There was no point. No pleases or sorry’s. We were caught. I just had to let him do what he needed to do.

His eyes moved around the scene, to Zelda, who was scrambling to hide herself under the covers, her face ashen with shock, her limbs shaking. Then he looked at me, his naked friend, who he’d seen indulge in the deepest of kink, covered in cum and spit and standing in the middle of his daughter’s dorm room. Impossible to deny.

He said nothing. His eyes spoke for him. Betrayal. Anguish. Confusion. His mind whirring to catch up, to remember unimportant incidents, to make it make sense.

My boxers landed across my chest, and I caught them, looking at Zelda, who’d thrown them to me. I just held them in my limp grip, watching as she shored up and tugged a t-shirt over her head, her mortified expression disappearing beneath the fabric, reappearing with a drag of tears. I wanted to go to her. But Henry.

“You will tell me now that this isn’t what it looks like. You will explain.” His voice was so cold, flat, as he stepped into the room. Someone in the hall shouted that they’d called the police, but Henry didn’t even flinch as he walked up to me, ignoring his daughter. “Tell me now, Luca. Tell me this is innocent, that I’m misconstruing what I’m seeing.”

I stared him down. “I can’t do that.”

“You… Yes, you can.”

“Dad, please!” Zelda implored, standing up on her wobbly legs. She looked wrecked. Not just from me, but from this whole situation. Aghast, even. Sick. Her skin was gray, her voice shaky and filled with panic. Her eyes darted between us, fear plain on her face.

Henry didn’t glance at her as he spoke. “Zelda, leave. Go to your mother. Don’t tell her a thing.”

“Wha—” Zelda looked at us in horror. “No.”

Henry whirled on her, his expression unlike anything I’d ever seen, even in his darkest moments. “Zelda,” he said, pressing her against the wall, rustling a poster of a movie I didn’t recognize. Her eyes widened as she let him move her, as her father held her firm against the beige painted wall. He wasn’t hurting her, but to see him manhandle her like that? My anger bubbled, my fists tightened. I was seconds away from yanking him off her.

“Are you fucking Luca?” Henry asked her, growling deep.

Zelda’s eyes grew larger. “Dad…”

“Tell me.”

I stepped closer. “Henry, deal with me. Not her.”

The tension on Henry’s shoulders increased. He looked like he was about to snap. I’d seen him like this only a few times in my life, and it was terrifying, even for me, who could square up to his size. Anger rolled off him in hot waves, and Zelda looked horrified.

“Dad…”

“Henry, please, she’s pregnant.” My words broke the stretched rubber band that was his mood, and he shoved into Zelda to gain momentum, spinning to me and lunging. His fist hit my gut first, then my face.

Zelda was screaming. A crowd formed in her doorway. She tried to slam it shut, but couldn’t, people pushed in, attempting to help or just to gawp. I saw her hands on Henry’s shoulders, trying to tug him back, as he whaled into me, smashing his fist, over and over, everywhere he could reach. The pain didn’t register in my mind, it was outside of my head, an abstract, but I took it all from him. I deserved every bit of his anger, how ever he wanted to show it. Zelda’s screaming and hollering soundtracked the smashes of his rage onto my body.

I’d never been on this side of his rage. His blank eyes, his scowl, his relentless fury, crushing me. For a moment, I let him do it. I just took it. I deserved it, after all.

But then Zelda jumped on top of him, her arms and legs wrapping around his body as she tried to wrestle him free from me. She was yelling, tears pouring down her face as she fought against the man twice her size. He kept punching me, Zelda no more than an irritation, until she went for his eyes, gouging her fingers into his sockets until he yelled and bucked, throwing her off. Her scream was cut short with a yelp and a grunt, and we both stopped dead.

“You don’t fucking hurt her,” I snarled at him, shoving him hard, using his momentary shock at his actions to twist us, to throw him beneath me. Straddling him, I gave Zelda a quick glance, our gazes locked for a second as she scrambled from the carpet to the bed, cradling her stomach with wide eyes. Someone in the crowd said something else, but we all ignored it. Who were these assholes? Nosy bastards.

“Is the baby yours?” Henry asked, voice strained. He didn’t look or sound like my best friend. “Tell me that, Luca. Is it?”

“Dad, please,” Zelda begged, sobs pouring from her, the tears running down her cheeks and onto her t-shirt, darkening the fabric. She curled over her stomach, holding it like she was in pain. Like her whole world was shattering. “Luca, don’t hit him. Don’t hurt him… he’s, please…”

Our eyes locked, the fear and grief present on her face making me slump. I couldn’t attack him, didn’t want to fight him back. She was right. His reality was breaking around him. He knew. He didn’t just know the facts, he’d caught us, had them shoved in his face. Both naked, post-fuck. There was no worse way this could have gone. He was a broken man between my thighs, staring up at his shattered world, trying to make sense of it. What was he even doing here?

Henry bucked underneath me, but he was a fraction smaller than me and I kept him there, squeezing my legs. “I’m going to kill you,” he rasped at me. I just nodded.

“Holy shit,” a fresh voice came from the doorway, a recognizable one based on how Zelda’s head whipped up. “Zel!”

I turned, seeing Zelda’s friend run in, followed by the curly-haired guy I’d met at our offices, looking terrified. They hurried over to Zelda, on their knees, checking her over. “What the hell is going on?” her friend continued, her tone sharp and protective as she took in the situation.

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