Page 91 of Whirlwind
“Yes,” he replies slowly, his single word dripping with pleasure at what he knows is about to happen. He comes across as polite, mature, classy. But Damian March has a darker side, I’m sure of it.
“I’m going to need a witness.”
“It’s self-defense, my friend. I saw him swing first,” Damian says.
“What the fuck?” Derik says, taking a step back. Not far enough, because I easily grab his shirt with my left hand as I jab with my right. The crack I hear when my fist meets his nose is the most satisfying thing I’ve ever heard. The instant gush of blood makes my heart pump faster.
“What the hell? I’ll call the cops.”
“You think a night in jail scares me more than the pleasure I’ll get from putting a rapist in the hospital?” I tighten my grip. He tries to push me away, but I have height, reach, and strength on him. Another swing makes contact with his eye.
“Rape?” he protests. “I didn’t rape anyone!”
He swings his arms wildly. The only one that finds purchase on my face feels more like he hit me with a pillow than a hand. It may still leave a mark, but it’s nothing compared to what I’m used to from a little brawl on the ice.
“Did she say yes, you motherfucker? Coercion isn’t consent,” I say, and I don’t stop swinging. Nor do I stop yelling in his face,which is becoming slick with blood, now. “Did she fucking say yes? Answer me, asshole! Did she say yes?”
“N…no,” he finally stammers.
“What was that?” I ask, landing another blow to his side while I hold his weight up against the side of his truck. He’s already weak—this didn’t last nearly as long as I’d like.
“No,” he repeats.
I shove him, and he falls to the ground, covering his face with his hands.
“I’m going to find out if you’ve done this to other women,” Damian says, stepping up beside me. He rolls Derik over with a shove of his foot. “In fact, I’m going to find out everything about you. Every horrible thing you’ve ever done, you piece of shit. If it’s as bad as I think it is, I’m going to share it all with my friend, here, and then we’re going to ruin your fucking life.”
“Fuck you, I have a family,” he mumbles.
“Yeah? Do they know you’re a rapist?” I ask.
“No, I didn’t—”
“Be very careful with what you say to me, right now,” I warn, squatting down to get close to his face. “You’re able to drive out of here, but that can change quickly.”
“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”
“But you did. And what the fuck did you come here for, tonight?”
“I…I have a daughter, now,” he cries.
“So, you came here to what? Relieve your guilt?” Damian asks. Derik nods.
“Selfish prick.” I spit on the ground next to him. “You came here for you, without thinking that it could hurt her more. Get the fuck out of here. Don’t ever come near her again, or I’ll fucking kill you. This was your warning.”
He scrambles to his feet and fumbles with the door to his truck.
“Seek some fucking therapy, asshole,” Damian says, giving Derik a final shove into his truck. Neither of us moves until his truck has turned out of the driveway.
24
Kit
Iwatch the scene from behind the living room curtain. The house is old, the windows have never been replaced, so I hear most of everything they say through the single-pane glass that separates me from them.
When Willa came in to tell me someone was here, I expected it to be my father. It being Derik was infinitely worse. For the first time since Willa told me Tyson was coming to Maine, I felt no apprehension about it. I’m glad he’s here. Also, I’m afraid of what could happen to him because of this—not what Derik can do physically. It was perfectly clear Tyson dominated in the altercation. But the legal ramifications that may come later…I’d hate for him to get in trouble for standing up for me.
Damn, it was hot. He’s always so caring with me that I forget he has this side of him—as if the Tyson Murphy on the ice and the Tyson Murphy in my life are two different characters.
