Since She Went Away(100)

He flushed and then washed his hands. He paused for a moment before the mirror and studied himself. His hair stood up and his eyes looked puffy and tired. Other than that, no real differences. Would people at school see he’d lost his virginity? Would Mike and Syd know when he sat down at the lunch table on Monday morning? If they didn’t, he would tell them. Maybe not right away, but eventually he’d tell them.

He reached for the knob. He heard a noise in the hallway. He pulled the door open, the adrenaline shooting through his body like ice water. He stood in the hallway listening, and then moved back to his bedroom. The door was shut. He could have sworn he’d left it cracked when he went to the bathroom. He pushed in. The bed was empty, the clothes gone from the floor.

Jared spun, and he saw Detective Poole at the end of the hallway.

“She’s in the kitchen, Romeo. Getting a glass of water. I’m using the little girl’s room if you don’t mind.”

“Sure.”

Jared went to the end of the hallway, scratching himself absently as he went. He had decided to turn around and wait back in bed when he heard the thump from the back of the house.

He waited. Head cocked.

He heard it again. And something like a muffled cry.

“Natalie?”

He ran for the kitchen and the source of the noise. When he entered he saw Natalie’s dad, William Rose, and he held Natalie by the arm, trying to drag her through the back door and out of the house.





CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE


William Rose stood in the doorway, his hand clamped around Natalie’s arm. Jared saw the brute force exerted through the man’s hands as he squeezed her flesh. He saw the ugly, offending lips that sneered his way.

“She’s my daughter, and we’ll be leaving now,” he said.

Jared spoke with the simplest clarity. “No.”

His heart pounded and his hands shook. He felt a strange, jangling electricity in every part of his body, something that compelled him to move forward into the kitchen, his steps cautious and catlike.

Natalie looked more resigned than scared. Tears covered her pale face, but she seemed in control of her emotions. She wasn’t pulling against her father or fighting him. She didn’t scream.

“It’s okay, Jared,” she said. “I’ll just go with him.”

“No,” Jared said again, moving closer.

“Stop right there,” her father said, holding out his free hand. It was meaty and thick, like a fat holiday ham stuck on the end of his arm. His voice sounded like ground glass. “You’re going to get hurt, boy. If you don’t step off, you’re going to get hurt real bad.”

Jared heard someone behind him. He didn’t turn, didn’t take his eyes off Natalie and her father, but he knew Detective Poole and his mom had arrived and stood in the doorway. He heard his mother gasp, heard her breathing grow heavier as she watched the spectacle unfold.

Detective Poole spoke into a radio, requesting—demanding—backup. “We have a hostage situation.”

Jared kept moving forward. He stood ten feet away from them. If he lunged forward, moving as quickly as possible, he could be on the man. He was about to when Natalie’s voice stopped him.

“I’ll go,” she said again. “Just let me go. No one else will get hurt.”

“Jared,” his mom said. “Get back. Let the police handle it.”

William Rose stood in the doorway into the backyard. He gave one more tug, pulling Natalie with him. But then Natalie gripped the door. She locked eyes with Jared.

Detective Poole came up next to Jared. She had her gun drawn. The overhead lights reflected off the black metal barrel.

“She’s right. Get back.” Poole’s face looked determined, steely. A far cry from her usual grandmotherly appearance. Jared didn’t doubt that she could—and would—use the gun. “Sir,” she said to William Rose, “let the girl go.”

“She’s my daughter.”

“Let her go and get down on the floor. We don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Jared, back up,” his mom said.

“Sir, get down.”

“I love you,” Natalie said.

Jared sprang forward. He led with his right hand and clamped it up and under William’s chin, grabbing hold of his thick, fleshy neck. He felt his nails sink into the soft skin, and he squeezed as hard as he could, the muscles and tendons in his fingers and forearms straining to their breaking points.

Something hit him once and then twice in the side of the body. William Rose’s fist swung wildly, smashing against Jared, blows he couldn’t feel in the heat of the moment. The fist swung a third time, connecting with the side of Jared’s head, knocking him off balance and causing bells to ring deep inside his skull.

But he saw Natalie pull free.

She made a quick dash to her left, breaking loose from her dad’s grip.

William was then free to use both of his hands on Jared, and he did. He came forward while Jared still held on to his neck, adding pressure as much as he could.

Detective Poole came closer. She held a small canister in her hand.

Pepper spray.

She ordered Jared back. But he couldn’t move. William Rose held him by his shirt, his grip like iron.

The blows from the meaty fists rained down on Jared. He swung his right leg up, kicking with as much force as he could generate. His first attempt missed, glancing off William’s shin. But when he tried again, he connected with flesh. Jared wasn’t sure where—either the enormous man’s groin or his gut. He didn’t care. It stopped the assault for a moment, allowed Jared to reassert his grip.