Page 25 of Jason Bourne
And watching her there, fierce and grinning under the setting sun — I knew she did.
25
Lane
“Hey Lane, can you check out a call that came in about a domestic dispute? Cheryl says Jake is drunk and hitting her.”
“Yeah, I need an address. I’m not like everyone else who knows every nook and cranny around this mountain. Is that the couple who just got married last month?”
“Yeah, this isn’t the first time we've gone out there on a call. He’s a mean drunk.”
“Then he needs to quit drinking. Why would Cheryl marry him if he hits her?”
“Why do any of the women who get beaten stay with their men? Your guess is as good as mine.”
I’ve decided to start offering free lessons to women to help them protect themselves. I won’t stand for mean drunks. If he acts up I’ll haul his ass to jail. Now give me the address.”
I pulled into the yard, which was in a mobile home park. Everyone in the park directed me to Cheryl and Jake’s home.
Cheryl was hiding, and Jake was shouting for her to come out of hiding. I walked upon the porch so he could hear me.
“Shut the fuck up!” I said, standing next to him. He looked at me.
Go screw yourself. Get off my property.”
“Be careful, or he will hit you.” I looked over when Cheryl came out from behind the mobile home.
“If he hits me, I’ll haul his ass to jail.”
Cheryl, get your ass in this house. You are making a laughing stock out of us. Why the fuck did you call the cops.”
As the girl walked up, I saw the black eye and split lip. I took Jake's hands and twisted him around. He was cuffed before he knew what I was doing. While I looked over at Cheryl, Jake kicked me. it didn’t knock me down. I turned around and smiled.
“Now you will stay in jail for at least a year for kicking a police officer.”
I grabbed his arm and pushed him into the back seat of my car. Then I turned and took pictures of Cheryl. “Do you have any more bruises?” I asked.
“Come inside, and I'll show you.”
We walked inside when she raised her dress, her body was covered in whelps. I took more pictures. “What did he use?”
“His belt. This isn’t the first time. He always gets out the next day. That’s when he really gets angry and comes after me. I didn’t want to get married because he was so mean, but he forced me to marry him. This is my mobile home, not his. He said he would burn it down while I was sleeping if I didn’t marry him.”
“I’m going to start giving lessons in fighting starting next Saturday, tell all the women that it’s free. It will be at the community center.”
“I really want to learn to take care of myself,” Cheryl said.
“While he’s in jail, you should file for a divorce. When he wants you to come see him, don’t take his call. Get a carry permit and carry a gun, but never give anyone a chance to take it from you. I guess I’ll give shooting lessons too.”
26
Jason
Lane walked through the door, shoulders tight, her uniform shirt smudged with dust. I didn’t need to ask if it had been a rough night—her eyes told me enough.
“You’re late,” I said, handing her a beer. “Or right on time, depending on how you look at it.”
She cracked it open and drained half in one swallow. “Domestic call. Guy thought he could use his fists to make a point.”
