Wrong Side Girl (The Girl Series Book 1) (12 page)

My favorite bookstore was down by the pier. It was more than a detour from my way home but so worth it. Sitting in one of the store’s super comfy armchairs with a good book, slurping a hot chocolate, and looking out over the water was very calming and serene. It was a good spot to relax and go into my head without anyone bothering me. I still needed that sometimes. Not as often as I used to now that I was away from Ashford and everything that was supposed to be my home, but from time to time I needed to get my head straight and I did that best when I was by myself. Even when things were good and I was happy, I took those breaks to think, to appreciate what I had, how much I had accomplished, how far I had come. So that was my plan. To stop and take a break and let everything that happened in the last few weeks run through my head, let my thoughts wander, and just enjoy a quiet moment or two or five. I could also use a new book. My life had been so busy and eventful lately that I hadn’t had time to stock up on anything new.

So that was what was on my mind when I crossed the street in front of the bookstore. I’d had to park a few blocks away. The pier area was always busy and I had some trouble finding a spot. When I was trying to navigate through the pedestrian traffic without bumping into anyone, I saw Jesse about twenty feet in front of me. This wasn’t a popular hangout for street kids, so seeing him here took me off guard. And anyway, Jesse should be back at the shelter. I was heading toward him when I realized that a man was holding him by the arm, stopping him from getting away.
What the hell?
I started running, wanting to get there as fast as possible to see what that was all about. I could hear the man’s low voice, but couldn’t make out what he was saying. What I could make out, though, was that he was angry. Very angry. Right before I got there, Jesse wrenched his arm out of the man’s hold and took a swing at him.

“Jesse!” I shouted, which made both of them look in my direction. “What the hell is going on?” The relief on Jesse’s face at seeing me made my gut clench. Relief at seeing your social worker when you’ve been caught in an altercation with an adult is not the usual reaction street kids had. I expected anger or arrogance, but Jesse’s reaction told me that something was wrong here, that he didn’t want to be anywhere near this man and saw me as his rescuer. I took a good look at the man while stepping closer to them, angling my body in a way that Jesse was standing half behind me on my left side. The man in front of me was a big guy with dark brown eyes that were glaring at me with contempt. They were Jesse’s eyes. His hair was dark blond and needed a cut about six weeks ago. There were only certain men who could pull that look off. He was definitely not one of them. His clothes looked like he had been sleeping in them and smelled worse. This was Jesse and Chloe’s father. Anger so raw it clouded my vision ran through me as soon as I realized who he was.

“Bitch, this has nothing to do with you. Run along,” he disregarded me in a voice filled with condescension. His eyes were locked on Jesse and they were filled with hatred. When I pulled Jesse further behind me, trying to block him from view, his father’s eyes came to me and narrowed. He took a step closer to me and glared down at me. That didn’t intimidate me, though. I was too angry for that.

“Step back,” I hissed at him. He leaned in closer and smiled an ugly smile at me. Bile rose in my throat at what I could tell he was thinking behind those dark eyes. I raised my voice to get the attention of the people around us. Witnesses. “I said, step back!” He still didn’t give in. Instead, he inhaled deeply, then closed his eyes and hummed low in his throat. Gross! When his eyes opened again, he said in a low voice, looking at Jesse over my shoulder, “She smells even better than your sister, son. Maybe I should take this one home as well to keep me entertained. What do you think?” I froze. So did Jesse behind me. Then I could feel the rage and hatred waving off of him right before he lunged at his father, shouting, “You fucking piece of shit!” I was caught in the middle and tried my damnedest to keep them apart, but didn’t stand a chance. One of them threw me out of the way and I landed on my ass, watching in horror as they started to beat the shit out of each other. I got up and called Jesse’s name over and over again, but he wouldn’t listen. I didn’t blame him. I wanted to beat the shit out of that man myself. Instead of joining the fray, I called the police, hoping that my and Jesse’s statement were enough to make him leave his kids alone. By the time I ended the call, Jesse’s father had him flat on his back, holding him by the throat, choking him. We had an audience now of about twenty people staring down at the scene. Typical. Everyone enjoyed a good show, but nobody jumped in to help. I kept screaming for him to let go, yanking at his arm, but I was no match for him. Instead of releasing his son, he reared his free arm back to punch me in the face. I let go of his arm and stumbled back, my hands going to my nose and feeling blood there. Stars were dancing at the edge of my vision and I had to sit down so I wouldn’t pass out.

Shit, but that hurts.

Someone was kneeling beside me, holding me by the shoulder, talking to me, but I couldn’t make out the words. I was too busy fighting the nausea and the overwhelming feeling of passing out. In an effort to fight off unconsciousness, I blinked my eyes repeatedly until my vision started to clear little by little until I could take in the scene before me.

“Miss, are you okay? Can you hear me?” an older man was asking me. He was the one kneeling beside me, shaking my shoulder slightly to get my attention. I nodded, but kept my eyes on Jesse lying on the ground a few feet away from me. His face was a bloody, swollen mess and he wasn’t moving. I shook off the arm still holding me and crawled to Jesse’s prone body. “Jesse,” I whispered, “Jesse!”
Please don’t let him be dead
. Hot tears were running down my face. Two people were checking Jesse over, one of them kneeling by his head, holding his neck straight, the other one checking for a pulse and breathing. I reached for his hand and squeezed it, not taking my eyes off his face. “Please, please, please,” I chanted through sobs.

“He is breathing and his pulse is steady. Just knocked out cold,” one of the men assured me. “We’ll wait for the ambulance. Don’t worry, he’ll be okay.” Oh thank God! Relief washed through me at his words. Then I heard a girl shrieking and seconds later, I saw Chloe running towards us. I let go of Jesse’s hand and got up to intercept her. No reason for her to see her brother like this, unconscious and covered in blood. I caught her and wrapped my arms around her as tightly as I could while I whispered in her ear, “He’s going to be fine, Chloe. It looks bad, but he is going to be okay. I promise. I promise, baby.” Her body was shaking and she was crying so hard it broke my heart. “Hold on to me, Chloe. Just hold on tight.” Her arms came around me as she buried her face in my neck and kept on crying while squeezing me so tightly it actually hurt a bit. But I didn’t let her go. She needed me to be her lifeline right now, to assure her that things would be okay, that I would make them okay. As we kept holding on to each other, we heard the police and ambulance arrive. Over Chloe’s shoulder I could see that the EMTs were checking Jesse’s injuries, talking to each other quietly. Jesse was slowly coming to. I could see his eyes flutter open and closed a couple of times before they stayed open and he looked up at the EMT in confusion. A police officer approached me and took my attention from Jesse when he started talking to me.

“Ma’am, you should get checked out as well,” he said in a quiet and comforting voice. “Let me lead you over to the ambulance and we’ll have someone see to your nose, make sure nothing’s broken.” I nodded at him and let him lead Chloe and me to the ambulance. Jesse was fully awake now. I could hear his voice as he answered the EMT’s questions. Chloe was still shaking and crying in my arms as we walked over to the ambulance. Another EMT cleaned me up and checked my nose, asked me if I passed out at all.

“No. I saw stars and had to take a few deep breaths so I wouldn’t vomit, but I didn’t pass out.”

“Okay. That’s good. Your nose isn’t broken, but it’s swelling and there’s already a bruise under your right eye. You might have a mild concussion. I’d like to take you to the hospital to make sure we’re not missing anything.”

I nodded at her and closed my eyes. Now that the fight was over and the adrenalin was leaving my body, my face hurt like hell. Chloe was sitting beside me on the back of the ambulance, wrapped in a blanket. She grabbed my hand and held on tight. I looked over to her and gave her a small smile, which I meant to be reassuring but wasn’t sure didn’t look like a grimace. I gave the police officer my statement while the EMT finished cleaning me up.

“Do you mind if Chloe rides with us in the ambulance? She’s Jesse’s sister and I don’t want to leave her behind,” I asked the EMT.

“Sure, no problem,” he said.

“Do you mind letting him know that his sister is with me? I know he is going to be worried.” He nodded then gave me a blanket before he walked over to where they were loading Jesse onto a stretcher.

On our way to the hospital, I called Taryn to let her know what happened. She was beside herself with worry about all three of us and promised me she would get on Jesse and Chloe’s case right away to make things happen with Child Services. Their situation of being street kids had now changed to a case of physical evidence of assault and abuse witnessed by a social worker, meaning they would be taken in by the state to make them safe.

“I don’t want Chloe going to an emergency foster home tonight, Taryn. She’s gone through enough. She is scared out of her mind and worried about her brother. Let her stay at the shelter until Jesse is released. She needs people around her she knows and trusts, not thrown into a new situation without her brother at her side.” I felt Chloe’s body tighten next to me in the ambulance at hearing me talk.

“I hear you, Lizzy. I won’t do anything tonight. You’re with her, so that gives us time to see how Jesse is doing in the morning to come up with a plan. But I’ll have to call it in tomorrow first thing. I’ll do my best to talk them around to letting her stay with us until her brother is released, but I can’t guarantee it, Liz. For now, let’s worry about Jesse and we’ll deal with everything else tomorrow. You gonna bring her back here or do you need someone to pick her up?”

“I’ll call Cole to come and get us. My car is still at the pier, but we’ll make sure to drop her off once she has seen Jesse and I’ve had a chance to talk to both of them. Let Jimmy know it might be a few hours, though.”

“Alright, Liz. Will do. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Taryn paused, then added in a low voice that was laced with concern, “And Liz, I know you’d do anything for those kids, but I swear to God if you ever try to take on a parent in a physical altercation again and get hurt in the process, I’m gonna kick your ass.” With that she hung up. Huh. Guess I should prepare myself to get seriously reamed out tomorrow morning when she saw my face. I might have downplayed how hard Jesse’s father had hit me.

My next call was to Cole. We had arrived at the hospital and were being led through the hall to the emergency room. This was not going to be fun. He would lose his shit when he heard someone had punched me in the face. He answered on the third ring.

“Hey, honey, I’m just on my way home. I was gonna pick up dinner. I thought we could cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie. You want Indian or Pizza?” That was sweet and considerate, and I so wanted that right now, but instead I had to burst his bubble of takeout dinner and a movie.

“That sounds really good, babe, but unfortunately, you’re gonna have to turn around to pick me up. I’m at the hospital.”

“What? Why? What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’ll tell you everything when you get here. One of my kids got beaten up by his father today, and I kinda got in the way when it happened, but I’m fine.” I didn’t think it was a good idea to tell him about the punch in the face while he was driving. Better disclose that information when he was not behind the wheel.

“You got in the way when it happened? What does that mean? They must have reason to worry if they took you to the hospital, Liz. Tell me what’s going on!” He was shouting now. Worried and panicked about me not being okay.

“I got pushed around a little and they want to check out my head just in case,” I downplayed, “I’m okay, Cole.” Shit. I was right. He was absolutely going to lose it when he saw my face.

“Liz, I know you’re lying to me. Tell me what happened. Now.” Great. He was being bossy. I knew what that meant. He wouldn’t let up until I told him and if I didn’t, he would be even angrier by the time he got here.

I took a deep breath before I told him what happened. “Fine. I was pushed and fell to the ground, then when Jesse’s father wouldn’t let up and beat the shit out of Jesse, I tried to pull him off and he punched me in the face—”

“He did WHAT?” Cole roared into my ear. Oh yeah, he was mad.

“Babe, I’m fi—” I tried to calm him down, but was interrupted again.

“A grown man punched you in the face, Liz! Stop telling me you’re okay! He better not have broken your nose!”

“No, it’s not broken. I just have a bruise—”

“Fuck, Liz. Fuck! I’ll be there in ten minutes!” Then he hung up on me. I looked over to Chloe who gave me big eyes. Guess Cole had been shouting loud enough for her to hear everything. I gave her an eek-face to lighten up the mood and earned a small smile in return.

“Can we go see Jesse now?” She asked me after the nurse had taken a look at my nose and a doctor had come in for some simple tests and to ask me a few questions. Turned out I had a mild concussion. Nothing serious. But the swelling of my nose looked horrendous and I had a purple bruise under my eye. I looked like Rocky Balboa after fighting Apollo Creed.

“Yeah, Chloe. We’re gonna go see him now.” I threw my arm around her shoulders to give her some support when we walked down to hall to where they were taking care of Jesse. When we got there, his doctor assured me that his injuries were minor. He had some cuts and bruises and a split lip, but nothing was broken. We would be quite the pair for a few days with matching black eyes and swollen faces.