Marjorie Liu - Within the Flames

“Calling the cops,” she muttered. “Can you hear that? Quieting down, but it’s been crazy for the past hour. I like to mind my business, but that don’t sound right.”

“Ma’am,” said Eddie, in that low, quiet voice. “We are the police. We’ll handle this. Just go back inside and stay there.”

“Don’t come out, no matter what you hear,” Lyssa told her, and whatever the woman saw in her eyes made her nod real quick and close her door.

As they neared the apartment, Lyssa heard glass shatter — and a man’s muffled voice through the door.

“I fucking bought you, bitch. I married your worthless ass, and you run from me? You take my son ?”

Each word was filled with venom and hate. Lyssa couldn’t imagine listening to that vomit day after day, chained to a man who treated her like garbage. It hurt. It was horrible. And she wasn’t even the target.

Lyssa glanced at Eddie, and a chill swept over her. His eyes were flat, dead, his mouth little more than a compressed line.

“That doesn’t sound like Betty or Nikola,” he said, and the barely controlled rage in his voice touched a part of her that was rough and primitive, and hungry for blood. “Is he her husband?”

“Used to be,” said Lyssa, feeling grim as death. “Tina left this piece of crap. His name’s Aaron Roacher. He likes mail-order brides who don’t speak English.”

And then it got worse.

“Don’t you touch her!” screamed Jimmy, and the rawness of his voice hit Lyssa’s heart like a hammer. “I’m not your son! I’m not!”

Tina let out wordless cry, and Aaron roared.

Lyssa closed the rest of the distance in one long stride, and slammed her right fist hard against the door. Again and again, raining down blows as inhuman strength flooded her arm. The old door shook and rattled. It hurt her hand, but she didn’t care. She was too angry.

“ Hey! ” she roared. “ Open up! ”

Dead silence. Then heavy footsteps approached.

Eddie nudged Lyssa to the other side of the door. She tried to stay focused, but her heart was pounding, a golden haze falling down over her vision. Her teeth felt sharp. The low rumble of a growl filled the air, but it wasn’t until she noticed Eddie watching her that she realized it was coming from her.

“You’re a wild woman,” he said.

“Just wait,” she muttered.

From the other side of the door, a man said, “Who’s there?”

“Police,” replied Eddie. “Someone reported a domestic disturbance.”

“Like hell. Nothing’s happening here.”

“Open the door, sir. Now.” He sounded cold, professional, and not one to be fucked with. Right then, he looked like it, too. Lean and dangerous, with shadows in his eyes.

I’m glad you’re here, she thought.

It was quiet for a moment. Until, slowly, the locks turned. Lyssa steadied herself. Eddie got even more still — and then, in a blinding flash of movement — slammed his shoulder into the door just as it cracked open.

He crashed inside, and without missing a beat reached around the door and grabbed the other man — who was still trying to recover from being knocked back into the wall. Lyssa caught a glimpse of him — huge as a football player, with fatty muscles and a thick neck, and beady eyes that looked like blue peas tucked in slabs of white meat. He had a hundred pounds on Eddie, and a good six inches — but he wasn’t as fast.

Eddie lashed out with a solid right hook, snapping Aaron’s head back. He had no chance to recover before he was slammed again in the face, again and again — and it was so quiet except for the thud and crack of Eddie’s knuckles, and the other man’s pained grunts.

Vicious. Brutal. Beautiful.

Aaron recovered enough to take a swing, but Eddie easily dodged it and kicked out hard. His boot struck the big man in the groin with enough force to make a wet, squishy sound. The man went down on his knees.

“Nice,” Lyssa said, when what she really wanted to say was Oh my God, that was incredible.

Eddie wasn’t even breathing hard. “My pleasure.”

Lyssa heard a small squeak and found Jimmy standing behind them, staring. His bottom lip was split, and there was a bruise on his face. Huge eyes. At first, filled with fear. . and then awe, as he looked at Eddie.

“Wow,” he breathed.

Eddie drew in a deep breath and went to the boy. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I’m not. He deserved it.” Jimmy looked at Lyssa, and suddenly he was all kid again, vulnerable and upset. “My mom.”

My mom. Just two words, saying a million different things.

She followed him into the living room and found Tina on her knees, trying to sweep broken glass onto a newspaper. A mug had been smashed on the floor, along with several framed photos of Jimmy.

Her arms were scratched and bleeding, and covered in bruises. No other visible signs of injuries, but Lyssa knew how deceptive that was. She was a small woman, birdlike, maybe only a hundred pounds dripping wet. No match for her husband. One blow from Aaron’s meat-hook fist would probably send her flying.

Tina didn’t look up when Lyssa walked in. Her small hands were a blur as she tried to clean the glass. Tears raced down her cheeks, but her face showed no grief, no pain. Just resolve.

Glass crunched beneath her boots as Lyssa crouched. “Tina.”

“Got to clean this,” she murmured. “I don’t want Jimmy to hurt himself.”

Lyssa stared. The fight between Eddie and Aaron had been quiet, yes. . but it was almost as though she didn’t realize at all that something profound had changed in her home. Or that another person was standing there. Tina’s focus had only one note, one beat, one destination.

How many times had she been in fights like this, where her only survival mechanism was to clean up afterward, and sweep away the evidence as though it had never happened?

Worse, she had probably thought the abuse over, that she had escaped. She had let down her guard, only to have her peace and safety ripped from her.

Just like Lyssa.

Everyone runs from the pain, she thought, watching Tina sweep up that glass as though her life depended on it. I ran from mine. This is how she runs from hers.

Jimmy stood beside his mother, watching her with terrible helplessness. “It’s okay,” he said, voice breaking a little. “I have shoes on.”

At the sound of his voice, Tina shuddered and bowed her head. Her hands stilled. Lyssa held her breath, afraid to make a sound.

“I’m sorry,” his mother whispered. “I’m so sorry, Jimmy. I didn’t know he would find us.”

The boy’s face crumpled. “It’s not your fault.”

Tina finally looked at him, and tears slid down her cheeks. Her eyes were hollow, filled with despair. “You’re hurt.”

Jimmy shook his head. “No.”

She reached for him but pulled back at the last moment, like she was afraid to touch her son. Instead, she looked at Lyssa, and her gaze sharpened, as though she was only just realizing that the two of them weren’t alone.

“How did you. .?” she began, and Lyssa said, “I happened to be in the neighborhood.”

Tina frowned and rubbed a shaking hand over her face. “If you’re here, Aaron must be gone. We need. . we need to get out of here before he. .”

“No,” Lyssa said. “Stay right there.”

Terrible, pained resolve filled her eyes. “You don’t understand. I won’t let Aaron hurt my son again. I can’t.”

“Mom,” Jimmy said, with the kind of restrained breathlessness that only a twelve-year-old boy could muster. “It’s okay. Lyssa’s friend knocked him out in the hall.”

Tina stared. “What?”