Cary was angry with Jessie. What the hell did she think she was doing going parking on the side of the road with this kid? He had a mind to drag her home. Steve would probably want him to. He wondered if there was any way to handle this situation without embarrassing Jessie or looking like a fool himself. He should just mind his own business and put it down to kids being kids. But Jessie was his business. He had a right to look out for her.
He’d gone about a mile past the dirt road when he made his decision.
“Ah, hell!” he muttered as he made a U-turn in the middle of the deserted highway and headed back. He only hoped Jessie wouldn’t be too angry with him for interrupting their little romantic interlude.
Jessie looked over at Doug. “Why are you stopping here?”
“Why do you think?” he replied, moving over and putting his arm around her.
“Doug, stop. We’ll be late for the dance.”
“We’ll be a little late. This won’t take long.” He pulled her into his arms, and his mouth came down on hers.
Jessie let him have a few kisses, but soon he was pressing for more. She felt his hand slide down and cover her breast, squeezing. Her hands came up to his shoulders and pushed him back. She twisted her head to the side, breaking free of his kiss and gasped out, “Doug, stop. I’m not kidding.”
“Doug, stop,” he mimicked her. “Quit being such a little baby, Jessie.” His hold on her tightened, and he pulled the straps of her gown down over her shoulders. Her bodice gaped down exposing her low-cut strapless bra.
Jessie was so shocked she froze for a moment. Then she did the only thing she could think to do. She shoved him back and slapped him hard across the face. She watched as a stunned look spread across his face and was quickly replaced by one of fury.
“You little bitch!” he snapped, backhanding her across the face.
The stinging blow stunned her for a moment, and she knew in an instant that she was in real trouble now. Doug shoved her down on the seat, as she tried to fight back.
Cary turned onto the side road, cutting his lights and engine off. He coasted up to a stop behind the Camaro. As he glanced through the rear window, he could see the kid reach back his hand and slap Jessie. Although Cary couldn’t see her down on the seat, he heard the resounding crack as he struck her.
Cary yanked on his door handle and practically vaulted out of the truck, an intense rage like nothing he’d ever felt seizing him.
Jessie struggled. “Please stop,” she cried.
Suddenly the driver’s door was flung open, and Doug’s weight was lifted off her. She could see over his shoulder, the dark shape of a man, and then he was dragging Doug out of the car. Quickly, Jessie struggled to get her dress back up in place. One strap was torn and hanging loose.
Cary spun Doug around and slammed his right fist into Doug’s startled face with enough force to slam him back into the side of the car. As Doug tried to regain his balance, Cary followed through with a left to the gut. It knocked the wind out of Doug and doubled him over. Cary grabbed two fistfuls of Doug’s pleated tuxedo shirt and hauled him up. He paused to glance toward Jessie, who had climbed out of the car, to see if she was okay. “Get in the truck, Jessie. Now!”
As Cary’s attention was distracted, Doug caught him with a vicious right to the jaw. It was enough to break his hold on Doug and remind him that Jessie had mentioned that this kid was a high school wrestling champ. Cary could take him, but the kid would probably give him a good fight, and right now Cary didn’t want to drag this out.
Usually, Cary wasn’t one to fight dirty, but the blind rage that was surging through him right now made him want to hurt this kid. Badly. With that thought, he dropped Doug to his knees with a savage kick to the groin.
“That was for Jessie!” Cary growled. Then just for the pleasure of it, he hit him another left hook to the face.
Cary glanced around for Jessie and found her standing next to his truck with her arms crossed in front of her, trying to hold her torn dress together. But it was the frightened look on her face that tore him apart. He turned back to Doug, who was on his knees in the dirt holding his groin and cursing. “You ever come around Jessie again, you ever so much as speak her name to one of your buddies, I’m gonna come lookin’ for you. And when I find you, I’m gonna put you in the hospital. You got that?”
“Go to hell, asshole!” Doug mumbled through split and rapidly swelling lips, blood and spittle running down his chin.
Cary grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his head back. “You want some more?” he snarled into the kid’s face and watched his eyes widen.
Doug swallowed and replied, “No, sir.”
Cary released him with a shove, walked over to the Camaro, and reached inside for the keys.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Doug asked, spitting into the dirt.
“This,” Cary explained, as he smiled and sent the keys sailing through the dark night. They landed with a distant clink somewhere out in the cornfield.
“Goddamn it! How am I gonna get home?”
“I suggest you find your keys, dickhead,” Cary bit out.
“It’ll take me all night!” Doug whined.
“I sure hope so. I’m gonna enjoy knowing you’re out here all night on your hands and knees,” Cary sneered. “Oh, and one other thing…”
Doug could see Cary’s boots come into the circle of his vision as he stared at the dirt. Slowly, he looked up into Cary’s face, questioningly. He didn’t have to wonder for long.
“This is from me,” Cary whispered and slammed his fist into Doug’s face one last time.
Jessie was silent as Cary climbed in the truck, slammed the door, and started the engine up without so much as a glance at her. He backed the truck up and jammed it into gear, hitting the gas pedal, throwing the truck into a U-turn, spinning the tires, and spraying Doug and his Camaro with gravel.
Jessie studied Cary by the light from the dashboard, as they pulled back onto the highway. She had never seen him like this before. Cary had a pretty even temper. It took a lot to get him riled up. This was the first time in all the years that she’d known him, that she’d seen him this angry and upset.
She watched as he pulled out a cigarette and a lighter, bending his head toward the flame, he lit it and flung the lighter up on the dash. He took a long drag off the cigarette. His right arm was extended, elbow locked, his fist clenched around the top of the steering wheel. She watched the muscles in his jaw clench, and still he didn’t speak to her or even look in her direction.
She didn’t want him to be angry with her. She didn’t want to be the cause of him getting into a fistfight. But, more than anything, she was so glad that he had been there when she’d needed him. And it occurred to her that Cary had always been there for her when she needed him, no matter what trouble she had gotten herself into. She realized she had never truly appreciated that fact until right now.
“Cary,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.” She knew she hadn’t really done anything wrong, but he had tried to warn her about guys more times than she could count. Was he angry with her for getting herself into trouble again and in turn for needing him to get her out of it once again?
Cary took a hit off his cigarette. He was trying hard to control his emotions right now, and he was riding a thin line. The satisfaction he’d felt when he’d given Doug what he’d deserved was short lived. But when he thought about what could have happened, what would have happened, if he hadn’t happened to see the car turn off, his stomach clenched. God, if he hadn’t turned around…
The thought that some kid like Doug would treat Jessie like that infuriated him. He felt like punching the windshield. The death grip he kept on the steering wheel right now kept him from doing just that.
He hadn’t looked over at Jessie yet, because if he did, and she had that ‘frightened little girl’ look in her eyes, he was gonna lose it. Then he heard her whisper his name, and his hands started to shake.
Jessie watched as he flung the cigarette out the window, pulled to the side of the road, and cut the engine. It was a moment before he finally looked over at her. When he did, it wasn’t anger she saw, as she had expected, but anguish. “Cary, I’m sorry,” she whispered brokenly as she slid across the seat and into his arms.
His arms wrapped around her, holding her close. “Shh, honey. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked, leaning down to where her head was buried in his shoulder.
“Yes, I’m okay,” she answered, pulling back to look at him. “You saved me.”
A warm feeling spread through him at her words. Cary’s gaze strayed down to where her hands were holding her torn dress up. He let her go and began to unbutton his shirt. Her eyes flew up to his questioningly, as he shrugged out of it, exposing the blue tee shirt he had on underneath. “Here,” he said, wrapping the soft flannel shirt around her. “Put this on.”
She slipped her arms into the sleeves, inhaling the scent of him that still lingered. A feeling of security enfolded her as easily as the soft shirt he’d wrapped around her.
Cary reached over, took first one hand and then the other, and patiently rolled the sleeves up to fit her shorter arms. When he was through, his fingers tipped her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “Do you want to go to the police station and file charges?”
“No!” she said without hesitation, shaking her head vehemently wanting nothing to do with the police. “No, I couldn’t do that.”
“Why?” he asked quietly, wanting to understand. “He deserves to be punished, Jessie. He shouldn’t get away with this.”
“But he didn’t, Cary. Nothing happened. You came before he could…” she flushed and looked down, unable to meet his eyes.
“He hit you, Jess. I saw him through the rear window. How many times did he do that before I got there?”
“Just that once, Cary. I’d slapped him. That’s when he got mad and hit me back.”
“That son-of-a-bitch. God, Jess. You don’t know how it tears me up inside to think what he might have done to you.”
“But he didn’t. I’m okay. Please, Cary. Just take me home.”
“Alright, sweetheart. Whatever you want.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were pulling in the drive.
“Cary, I’m not ready to face Dad yet,” Jessie said, starting to panic again. “He’d only be full of questions on why I’m back so soon, and I’d rather not tell him what happened.”
“You have nothing to be ashamed of, Jessie. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Please, Cary.”
“Alright, honey. You can come over to my place and help me put some ice on my hand.” He grinned at her and drove past the big house, through the gravel yard, and down the drive to his house. He pulled around and parked in the back, where no one would see her climbing out of his truck. He got out and came around the truck. Opening her door, he helped her down. Rocky came trotting over from where he’d been lying on the porch.
Jessie extended her hand to him, giving him a gentle pat on the head. “Hey, boy.”
Cary guided her to the back door and opened it. They walked into the kitchen, Rocky pushing past their legs.
“Sit down, babe.” He nodded toward the kitchen table.
She sat in one of the chairs.
Dropping his keys on the table, Cary walked over to the cabinet over the stove, and got down a bottle of tequila and a shot glass. He brought them back over to the table and sat down. He poured a shot and downed it.
Jessie watched him.
He looked up and saw her staring at him. Pouring another shot, he pushed it across the table. “You look like you could use this,” he explained.
She picked it up and trying to show him she was an adult, she downed it and immediately started coughing.
Cary smiled, reached for the shot glass, and poured himself another.
When she reached for the shot glass again, he stopped her. “Uh-uh, princess. I’m not taking you home to Daddy drunk.” He got up and put the bottle back in the cabinet. Then he went to the sink and turned on the cold water, putting his right hand under the stream, his knuckles bruised and scraped.
“Here, Cary, let me get you some ice,” Jessie offered, getting up. She got a bowl and a tray of ice cubes, dumped them into the bowl, and then she ran some water into the bowl. Grabbing a dishtowel, she moved to the table.
Cary followed, sitting down next to her.
She took his hand and set it in the ice water.
“Damn, that’s cold,” he said, grimacing, his eyes on her. Jessie dipped the towel into the bowl, dabbed at his split lip, and wiped the blood away, her touch gentle on his face. He watched her pretty blue eyes as she concentrated on her task, and then his gaze fell to her mouth as her teeth came out to bite softly on her lower lip.
When she was satisfied, she smiled. “There, that’s better.”
Their eyes met, and her smile faltered. Cary watched as she started to pull away, but his hand came up and tilted her chin up. His thumb gently brushing across her cheekbone, still slightly red from when Doug backhanded her. “You okay, Jess?” he whispered.
She nodded.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, still whispering
She shook her head.
“You don’t deserve to be treated like that. You know that don’t you?”
She shrugged her shoulders.
“You deserve better. A lot better.” He held her face, his eyes holding her gaze, searching her eyes, and then his gaze strayed back down to her lips. And he couldn’t stop himself from leaning close and softly brushing her mouth with a kiss. “You didn’t even make it to the dance.”
She fiddled with the washcloth and shrugged her shoulders again.
Cary looked at her a long time and then he reached across the table to a small radio sitting against the wall. She watched as he flipped it on, then turned the dial until he found a slow song. Then he turned to look at her and he stood up. Taking her hand, he pulled her up as well. “Come here.”
He took her in his arms and swayed with the music. She stared up him. He tightened the hand on her waist and pulled her closer until her body was flush against his. And then she lay her head on his shoulder and let him hold her. He rubbed her back through the soft flannel of the shirt he’d given her. They stayed that way for a long time and he could feel the tension slowly leaving her body. He kissed the top of her head and held her tighter.