Fall From Grace(43)

“Get the hell off her!” Shane yelled after kicking through the door.  Wooden splinters burst from the doorframe.

Before I could take my next breath, Shane ripped the guy away from me; pounding him in the face over and over.  His eyes were wild.

The second Shane looked at me with concern, the guy leapt at him; stabbing the knife into Shane’s shoulder and pulling it back out.  Shane shook his head stunned, steadied himself and moved in as the guy lunged to cut him again.  Shane dexterously blocked the knife with his right hand and hammered the guy square in the chest with his other fist.  The bloody knife splattered and bounced. The man crumbled to the floor like a rag doll.

Shane grabbed my face with his hands, pulling my eyes away from watching the blood flowing from his shoulder, to his eyes.  “Grace, you okay? Did he hurt you?  He had blood all over him when I came in. Where are you hurt?”

I grabbed Shane’s shoulder and applied pressure to it.  I smiled up at him, “It was his blood, Shane.  He didn’t hurt me.”  Shane looked from the limp body slumped on the floor and back to me, his expression a mixture of relief and awe.

A dark look settled on his face.  “Did he touch you?  I swear to God, Grace, I’ll kill him right now.”

I placed my hand up to his face, laying it softly on his cheek.  Even through my numbing drunkenness, I still felt the slow burning heat of him washing over me like crashing waves.  “He never got the chance, you came.”

He looked down across his shoulder, smiling.  “Grace, I just got stabbed to save you.  Can I at least have a kiss as a reward?”  He wiggled his eyebrows up and down.

I leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead.

His eyes met mine, laughing, “Wow.  A peck on the forehead is the equivalent to being stabbed to you?  No way!  I’m going to milk this one!  You owe me, big time!”

I slapped him in his arm, making him wince.  “Shane, you could take your blonde bimbo home or me, and you wouldn’t know the difference.  But, I do owe you,” I said, smiling.  “I’ll think of something where I get to keep my clothes on.”

Everyone in the bar seemed to pile into the back room at that moment.  The bouncers came in, the police were called and Shane was driven to Lenox Hill Hospital a few blocks away.

I sat in the waiting area of the emergency room being questioned by two uniformed police officers.  They were kind and compassionate, so different from what you always heard was the clichéd stereotypical NYPD officer.  They reiterated over and over how very fortunate I had been that Shane had come in when he did.  They had been on many calls where it had been too late.

The blonde Shane had been dancing with, Brianna, sat across from me, biting her fake nails.  She had ridden in the ambulance with him. The two police officers in a squad car escorted me, as if I was the criminal.

I couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her. I bet Shane didn’t even know her name.  I couldn’t stop myself from the thoughts flooding through me as I watched her.  Why would anyone let themselves be used by someone for one night, fully knowing that there wouldn’t be another?  How low could this girl feel about herself that she still waited for Shane to take her home?  Was it for the sole reason to elevate her status with her friends?

Conner and Lea arrived ten minutes later than we did, both mumbling about too many run-ins with the cops in one night.  We all talked Brianna into calling a cab to head home, because we didn’t think Shane would be up for any more fun tonight.