A Rose by Any Other Name

Chapter 15

*Writer's Note- Thank you all again for your reads so far and remember to vote on the story (if you want).*

Steve came into the room, steps heavy but swift as he started kicking me in the corner where I was sitting hunched over.

Or at least he tried.

But, he couldn't. Something was stopping him. Invisible, but there and protecting me. It took a moment for Steve to realize his foot wasn't connecting with my body and by that point we'd both begun to hear the sirens.

I saw his expression sober and he looked down at his hand, rivulets of blood careening down his arm and onto the floor. His arm was riddled with splinters from the door he'd broken with his bare fist. As the blood started splattering on the floor he shook his head, as though seeing me for the first time.

"Did you call the police?!" Steve came even closer trying to reach through the invisible barrier. He seemed nervous now and not quite as dangerous. I released the barrier, already feeling the way the spell was draining me.

"Yeah you fuckin' brute, they're gonna come and arrest your ass." I snapped, cradling my broken wrist. I stood up, trying to move around Steve and leave the room.

That was my first mistake. Steve backhanded me, pushing me with all his weight and I fell to the ground. I felt him straddle me and begin to press his fingers into my throat. He was yelling at me, face red from drunkenness and rage, "You're nothing! You're less than shit."

I gagged, feeling something go wrong there. Fruitlessly, I tried to pry off his fingers with my good hand, not even feeling some of my fingernails break off against his hand. I faintly heard the front door cave in and yelling and boots slapping against the ground.

There was  more yelling then, some kind of negotiation, but Steve wouldn't listen. He just wouldn't listen. My vision flickered and then blackened.

#

I dangled my legs from the paramedics van, slurping some hot chocolate and watching the police car with Steve in the back seat. His head slumped down, looking to his feet. The shock blanket they gave me was warm but goosebumps kept prickling across my skin. I shivered.

"Sorry, Derrick. Can you walk me through it one more time?" The detective said. They'd given me a female detective, although it's not like I felt safe around anyone anymore, male or female. She had the look of someone's mom: high pony-tail, warm eyes, and an accepting smile. It all made me frown.

I touched my neck, feeling the bruises there, imagining how ugly it looked. My voice came out like rustling leaves; raspy and hoarse, "How many more times are you going to make me relive this Detective. Patel?"

I gave her points for sounding sympathetic. "This will be the beginning of a lot of reliving, Derrick." She shuffled into her pocket, "Here, take my business card. Day or night, if you decide to press charges, you can call me and we can talk if you need any resources. CPS is here to bring you..."

I stared at the card, sipping my hot chocolate. I blinked at Detective. Patel, "Where's Miranda?"

The detective pursed her lips, "I can bring her here to talk to you, if you'd like- but we need your statement, first."

I went through the events quickly. Steve and I arguing, Martha not being home, Steve stepping on my wrist, following me into my room and strangling me. The police came then, intimidated Steve into letting me go and arrested him. Some medics had done a few reconstruction spells on my wrist. It was fine, I could still draw but it ached like hell. My throat still burned even now, I just couldn't get warm.