Tara Sivec: Shame on Him

I choke on a laugh at the words coming out of her mouth.

“Don’t laugh. I’m serious. I wish I had slept with more men before I married your father,” she tells me.

“Okay, well, I’m hanging up now. I just got home. I’ll call you tomorrow,” I tell her as I pull into the driveway and shut off my car.

“Don’t call before noon. I have an appointment with a tattoo artist.”

I drop my keys and my phone almost slips from my hand as I get out of the car. “What?! Mom, are you serious?”

“They looked so nice on Dallas. And you said you had one. I want to do something exciting too,” she tells me.

“Oh, my God,” I mutter, as I grab my keys from the ground and make my way up to my door. “This is a little too much for me right now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay, sweetie. Wish me luck!”

I end the call with a shake of my head. Unlocking the door, I push it open. Just as I start to turn around to close the door behind me, something slams into my shoulder, shoving me the rest of the way into the house.

My keys, purse, and phone fly out of my hand and clatter to the floor as my body takes another hit, this one hard enough to make me lose my footing, and I slam against the ground. The wind is knocked out of me and I wheeze, trying to take in a lungful of air. Once the shock of what is happening wears off, I push and shove at the weight on top of me, pinning me to the ground. In the dark entryway of my house, I can just make out a face with a black ski mask. Fear and panic ripple through me as I twist and turn, trying to get out of the person’s grasp. I see a hand come up and before I can move my head out of the way, a fist slams into my cheek.

I see stars for a few seconds and all of the self-defense training Kennedy taught me rushes through my mind. My elbow flies up and connects with the person’s eye and I hear a shocked gasp of pain. I take that opportunity to buck my hips and shove him off of me. When I’m free from the weight of the intruder’s body, I flip over onto my belly and stumble up to my feet. No sooner do I stand up than a hand clamps around both my ankles and yanks my feet backward, forcing me back onto the ground. I immediately flop onto my back and kick out as hard as I can. My foot connects against the person’s mouth and he falls back, his head smacking against the floor with a thunk.

Scrambling backward on my butt, I quickly grab my purse and pull out the Taser. Flipping on the switch, I hear the Taser crackle to life as the voltage lights up the room.

The masked figure doesn’t move for a few seconds as he contemplates his next move. Before I can say anything, the person jumps up and races out the front door.

With a shaking hand, I grab my phone from the floor and dial.

One of the officers brings me some ice wrapped in a towel from my kitchen and hands it to me.

Ted sighs and gets up from his spot on the couch next to me. I look up at him as I press the towel of ice to my cheek. “So, just some random mugging. Are you sure there isn’t anything you’re leaving out?”

Oh, there’s a whole bunch I’m leaving out, but I don’t want you to throw me in jail.

I know sharing the information we have with the police would move the investigation forward, but if I do that, I’m not only putting myself in jeopardy, but Dallas as well. He went out on a limb by letting me help with this case. Even though my head and my heart are in knots right now, I’m not about to get him in trouble.

“I’m sure. I heard that there have been some break-ins around here lately. I’m sure that’s what it was. Unfortunately for him, your sister taught me some wonderful self-defense moves,” I tell him.

“And thank God for that. Are you sure you want to stay here tonight? There’s no shame in going somewhere else until we can get a bead on this guy,” Ted tells me.

“I’m not going to be forced out of my home. I’m staying here,” I tell him adamantly.

Besides, at this point, it could only be one of two people who did this. I made a lot of phone calls today about Stephanie and Miles. I’m guessing one of them found out about it.

Ted sighs as he shoves his small notepad into the inside pocket of his suit coat. “Fine. But I’m stationing an officer in a patrol car outside for the rest of the night.”

Before I can argue, I hear Dallas’s voice from the doorway. “That won’t be necessary. I’m going to stay here with her tonight.”

Seeing him standing in my house, so large and looking more than a little ticked off, all of the adrenaline coursing through my body since the attack leaves me in a whoosh . I suddenly want nothing more than to run over to him and have him wrap his arms around me.

Ted looks back and forth between us. “Lorelei, this okay with you?”

I drop the hand holding the ice to my face and nod. Dallas’s eyes narrow when he sees the bruise that I’m sure is forming on my cheek. It feels like it’s on fire and the whole side of my face aches, so I’m sure it looks less than pleasant.

“All right then; we’re done here. If you can think of anything else, give me a call. I’ll just need you to stop by the station some time tomorrow to sign the report once we get it typed up,” Ted tells me.

Dallas doesn’t take his eyes off of me as Ted walks up to him and smacks him on the back before walking out the door. The other officer follows him, closing the door behind himself.

I can hear the tick of the clock hanging on the wall above my head. In the quiet of my house with Dallas standing so far away and looking like he’s about ready to punch the wall, I finally lose the battle of trying to be strong. My eyes grow blurry with tears and I look away from Dallas as they fall.

He’s next to me on the couch in an instant, wrapping me in his arms and pulling me against him. I sink into him and let myself cry. He runs the palm of his hand down the back of my head over and over as he rocks me slowly back and forth. When I’m all cried out, I pull away from him, wiping the tears off of my face and wincing when my fingers brush over the bruise on the side of my cheek. Dallas picks up the towel with ice in my hand and presses it gently against my cheek.

“I’m going to kill whoever did this to you,” he mutters, brushing a strand of hair off the other side of my face.

“I’m pretty sure I know who it is.”

He pulls back to look at my eyes. “Does this have anything to do with why you wouldn’t return my calls all day?”

I sigh, taking the towel out of his hand and holding it myself. “I’m sorry about that. I should have called you back. I just . . . I don’t know how to do this.”

He looks at me in confusion. “How to do what?”

“This! You and me. Whatever this is. I finally stood up to my parents and I’m doing something for me. I just went to my ex-husband’s wedding. I don’t know how to do all of that and deal with what’s going on with us at the same time.”

Dallas slides off of the couch and gets down on his knees in front of me, resting his hands on top of my thighs.

“You don’t have to deal with anything involving us. I don’t know what this is either, but I’m not about to walk away from it.”

The tears are back again, this time pouring out of me so quickly that I don’t even bother trying to swipe them away. Dallas reaches up and does it for me.

“Other than the shiner on your face, are you hurt anywhere else?” he asks.

I shrug and take a few deep breaths. “My shoulder and my hip are killing me from when he slammed me into the floor, but it’s probably just bruises.”

A look of pure fury washes over Dallas’s face when I casually mention this and I quickly try to calm him. “Don’t worry; I got a few good hits in. He took an elbow to the eye and a kick to the face.”