Page 95 of Drop Shot
He’s coming at me again but I’m ready. I tackle him to the ground and my fist connects with his face. He’s out cold.
I straddle him on the floor just in case. Behind me, the girls hold each other crying.
“Call the cops.”
“I-I don’t know what to call,” Whimsy says, holding my inconsolable sister.
I pat my pockets but can’t locate my phone. It must’ve come out of my pocket during the fight. “I don’t have my phone. Do you have yours?”
She tosses me her phone, and I catch it one handed. After a quick Google search, I find the number for the police and dial.
While I remain on the line until the cops arrive, I eye my sister and then my girl. Whimsy, though upset, seems to be holding it together better than Ebba which is understandable given she was presumably the one receiving the brunt of Keaton’s anger.
I hold Whimsy’s gaze. “Is she okay?” I ask in the calmest tone I can muster.
Ebba’s sobs fill the small space of the apartment.
Whimsy shakes her head.
“What happened?” I’m trying to figure out what transpired before I walked in so I can better explain to the cops when they arrive.
I can tell Whimsy is having trouble finding her voice. “I don’t know,” she finally says in nearly a whisper I struggle to hear over my sister’s cries. “He said he had some friends visiting Paris and he was going to meet them for drinks. He came back in a rage and claimed Ebba was cheating on him and when I tried to intervene, he pushed me, and I fell and?—”
“He pushed you?” I bite out, somehow angrier than I was even seconds before.
She nods woodenly.
“Are you hurt?”
I can tell she doesn’t want to answer by the way she bites her lip and curls further into my sister.
“Whimsy?” Her name comes out sterner than I mean it too. “Did he hurt you? Please don’t make me ask you again.”
“My elbow is bleeding from where it hit the table as I went down.”
It takes everything in me not to punch the unconscious man beneath me. How fucking dare he hurt not just one, but two of the women I care about the most?
“I’m okay, really,” Whimsy says, and I know she’s just trying to calm me down.
“Don’t lie to me, Whim. Not right now.”
It feels like it takes an hour when it’s only about fifteen minutes for the police to arrive. I’m thankful for their speedy arrival since Keaton begins to stir and I hate to admit I’m a little scared of what I might be capable of depending on what shit he decides to spew.
The police gather up Keaton and take him out of the apartment. I assume so he can be questioned and seen by a medic. I explain to the cop in charge what happened. My French isn’t as good as normal since I’m flustered, but I manage to get through it before they have to question the girls.
A medic comes to check on us and I learn that before he slapped Ebba, he also twisted her wrist and it’s twinging with pain.
I wish I had hit him harder.
Whimsy gets her elbow bandaged up as I finish giving my statement. My adrenaline is starting to wear off and in its place my brain is in a constant loop ofwhat the fuck?
It’s a while before the apartment is cleared of everyone except the three of us.
Bracing my hands on a kitchen chair, I blurt out, “Please tell me this means things are over between you and this idiot?”
Ebba bursts into tears again when she’d only just stopped.
“Fuck. Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you cry again.” I go over to my sister and hesitate before hugging her. I know I’m her brother, but I’m also a man and she might not want me to touch her right now. But the second I open my arms she dives against me, wrapping her arms firmly around my chest.
