Page 32 of Attraction

“DIGBY!… What the fuck man? You’ll kill him.” Zak’s worried and grabbing him he pulls him back. Then, wrapping his hand tightly around his shirt collar, he digs his heels into the floor and using all his strength forces him off. Digby lets go, and Munroe slumps in a heap to the floor as Zak sighs in relief.

Munroe looks up from where he’s positioned. He looks like a pile of discarded rags left by the garbage. Spluttering blood, he says, “this… it was her idea. She wanted to do it.” He’s lying, trying to protect himself. He gulps as a large knot of fear forms in the back of his throat, the blood pouring from under his nose, its metallic taste coating his tongue. His eyes water from the pain in his face.

He aches so much, but he fears it’s about to get much worse as Zak drags him to his feet. “Wait… just wait! I told her no, I said she had drunk too much but she wouldn’t listen!” He panics, stricken by the fear of Digby and Zak’s angry retribution. “She was all over me. Guys c’mon, you know what these military chicks are like, they can’t keep their hands off or panties up. You know that, right?”

Wiping the blood from his mouth, he tries desperately not to connect with the two sets of icy blue eyes glaring at him from the darkness.

“What the fuck? You’re tryin’ to blame her? You know what? I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just speak.” Digby lurches forward and Zak must react quickly, stepping between them, using his body to physically prevent Digby from acting on his threat to kill.

Ozzie rubs his hand on his head, as he stands quietly beside Kat. Checking the pulse on her neck, he’s not sure what to do. Her partial state of undress makes him fumble and embarrassed, he’s too nervous to touch her. “Doc…” he quietly whispers in her ear while darting glances over his shoulder at the melee of voices behind him, “Doc, are you okay?” Then, he addresses Digby. “Man get the hell over here. I don’t know what to do.” He’s not certain whether or how he should move her semi-naked motionless body to lift her from the hood of the car.

Digby sighs, restraining his anger and squashing it deep inside. He turns his full attention back to his new housemate. Gently, brushing her hair from her face, he lifts her up—the unconscious weight of her body makes it too awkward to try to move her.

Ozzie closes his eyes, trying to preserve some of her dignity, while Digby pulls at her unbuttoned shirt, covering her body as best he can. “Hey c’mon Kat, let’s get you up.” He frowns. Barely conscious, her head lolls sideways, her pupils wide and dilated.

Oz is the first to notice her pants at half-mast around her hips and now it’s his turn to scowl at Munroe. His hazel eyes glower in an amber anger. “Did you touch her?”

Munroe delays his answer. His snide disdain for them as a unit means he would normally make some remark or joke and laugh off the accusation with some inappropriate comment. But with the group’s attention focused on him and the severity of the situation, he considers it ill-advised to make a cocky quip right now. He knows one wrong gesture, and Digby or Zak won’t hesitate to kill him.

“No,” he gulps nervously, shaking his head. His adrenaline and the sexual-high from the line of coke that he did earlier are fading fast. Reality sets in and he realizes this situation is bad. “I’m sorry, alright. I got over-excited. I did a little coke and I guess I lost control. Look, I like her and there’s no way I would hurt her. What d’ya take me for?” He takes a breath. It’s all a lie, a ruse to talk himself out of the trouble he’s facing. “This mist comes over me and I just wanted to be with her. C’mon, you know… how good she smells?”

“So, you were just gonna take her?”

Digby nods, and Zak lands a hard, bone-shattering punch to the right side of Munroe’s torso. Munroe clutches at his ribs, wailing in agony. His knees buckle and he drops to the ground, but he doesn’t make it. Zak grabs him, holding him locked in his powerful grip before he lands another punch—followed by another. Blow after blow he continues to strike him.

Then from the darkness comes a cry louder than Munroe’s.

“Stop. Zak, that’s enough. You’re going to kill him,” Ozzie says. “You know, I’m more than happy to do it. But is that what you want? Let’s just think this through for a minute, alright?”

Zak takes a breath before letting go. Throwing the groaning and beaten mess of Munroe’s body to the ground, he rubs his head and steps away. He allows a few moments for his testosterone-fueled anger to subside.

Digby sighs. Shaking his head, he ignores what’s going on with Munroe and turns his focus back to Kat. Her limp body is slumped against him and he locks his arms around her waist, holding her up. She’s so out of it that her arms just hang heavy by her side. Her breathing is slow and deep, and she’s paralyzed by whatever drug Patrick gave her.

“Kat…”

There’s a groan, and she acknowledges the soft sound of his voice.

Taking a breath, Digby looks up at Oz. “What the hell did he do to her? Kat, it’s alright we’ve got you. We’re here, you’re gonna be okay.” He holds her tight, and scooping his arms under her legs, he picks her up and moves her away from her perpetrator. Then, placing her gently on the ground, he triages her as best he can. Straightening her bra and fastening random buttons on her shirt, he covers her over. “Kat c’mon, wake up. Honey, do you hear me? Hey…!” He gently taps his fingers against her cheek, not stopping until she groans for him to get off.

As she comes around, Munroe reinforces his defense. “Hey, it is not my fault she gets in that state. I think she has a liquor problem, she told me, just ask her.”

“She what?” Digby turns around with a fierce glare in his blue eyes. “You need to shut the fuck up! You’re not gonna talk your way out of this like you have in the past by making some joke about it.” Slowly Digby gets to his feet and unfurling himself, he stands upright. He looks huge and growing in height, he looks down on the sniveling pathetic wreck that Munroe has suddenly become. “Keep your eye on her Oz. It’s time for me to sort this son-of-a-bitch out!”

Digby kicks hard at Patrick’s ribs. “Argghhh! Digby man, what the hell…!” His begging cry is wasted, Digby can’t and won’t stop as he kicks again and again until eventually, Zak drags him off.

“Diggs stop! Oz is right, we need to think. We can’t do this right now, there are too many witnesses. That assholes gotta be seen walkin’ and talkin’ back at the bar. We do this now and they’ll come lookin’ for us. We’ll end this another day.” Digby shakes his head. He listens but ignores and grabs a hold of Munroe. He pulls him up and punches his face. “Diggs… Will you stop! You’re gonna kill him.”

“What the hell… Do you think I care?” He rubs his head motioning his hand towards Kat’s still unconscious body laid in Ozzie’s arms. “What if we hadn’t got here Zak? Hmm… how far would he have gone? Is this the way you get your kicks Munroe, by drugging women for sex?”

“Fuck you!” These are the only understandable words he can mumble with the pain in his jaw. Groaning, he spits blood to the ground. Hardly able to move from the beating, his breathing becomes more labored. His ribs are obviously broken, meaning it’s painful to force even more than a few words out. “She… was playing hard to get.” He breathes, with difficulty. “She just… ahh fuck…. she…. just needed a loosener. It’s fine. She…. won’t remember.”

There’s a low rumbling sound and the air fills with the growl from the guys as they stand silently staring. They’re hardly able to believe that he would confess to doing such a thing. It’s too much, and the atmosphere turns tense. All hell’s about to rain down on Munroe as Digby frees himself from Zak’s grip and then, punching with all his strength, he inflicts a forceful blow to his already cracked ribs—breaking them for sure.

Munroe looks up with a stare of hatred as he focuses on the instigator of his punishment. His eyes are swollen and puffy, and the bruises are forming fast. “Oh…” He says, “you’re screwin’ her? She said…. not.” He sniffs, struggling to catch his breath and with his head dizzy, he feels like he might pass out. Sneering, he looks up. “Instead… of shorts up her ass… she… she should have said.”

“The problem is you shouldn’t be such a fuckin’ lowlife. You know, I’ve heard stories about you from before, but…” Digby sighs as he remembers how they’ve all laughed about Munroe. But now… now it isn’t a joke. It’s not funny. “You didn’t give her a chance to say no. Instead, you stuck a mickey in her drink so she couldn’t resist. What the hell kind of animal are you?”

“Prove it!” Munroe still manages a smile as he holds a hand to the pain in his ribs.

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