"Where she is no longer concerns you."
"She's still mine."
"No. She's not."
"Tell me where she is."
"You don't get to see her anymore. The cops are on their way and you need to leave." He sounds eerily calm, and I know he's restraining himself.
The voices are almost out of reach but I can hear more unintelligible conversation, which quickly escalates to shouting. He has already called the cops. There's nothing I can do but stay out of the way, which I do successfully... for about a minute.
"Get the fuck out of my way!" I hear another crash and Lindsey doesn't respond. I can't wait any more. I throw the door open and see Richard charging up the stairs. He lays eyes on me and I feel a rush of uncontrollable anger. I dive at him and swing at his face, but he catches my arms and stops me quickly. He's got over a foot and about a hundred pounds on me; at my angriest, I essentially bounce off of him. "We're going home," he says, his fingers digging painfully into my arm. I get in a jab to his stomach and surprise him slightly, giving me just enough time to escape his grasp and run. I stop when I see Lindsey, just getting back to his feet, blood running from his temple.
"Go, Stevie! Get outside!" In that split second I pause, Richard dives forward, tackling me.
"Stop running!" He screams and punches me, panicking now. He's clearly in an altered state, bleeding from where Lindsey got him in the face. This particular incident isn't alcohol fueled, though; this is cocaine, and I know he's not going to feel any pain we try to inflict. I instantly go limp, realizing it'll be worse if I fight. At that moment, I hear the sirens and relief washes over me.
Within seconds, the door swings open and guns are drawn. Before I even know what's happening, he's in cuffs and being dragged into the back of a police cruiser while Lindsey talks to one of the officers. A young officer kneels beside me on the floor, and I know he's talking to me, but I don't hear him right now. I finally notice that he's wrapped a blanket around me, and I turn to thank him.
"The ambulance is almost here, ma'am."
"I don't want to go."
"At least let them clean that up and check you for a concussion. It looks like you got quite a knock on the head," he says kindly, his voice betraying a hint of an accent I can't quite identify.
It's only then that I realize that my head is throbbing and I did fall pretty hard. Lindsey is no longer in my line of sight and I try to stand. "I need to find Lindsey."
"He's just outside, ma'am. He's giving a statement."
"Let me go to him."
"Take it easy," he says, helping me up, watching me closely. I'm vaguely aware of more flashing lights pulling up in front of the house, but I feel slightly panicked without Lindsey next to me. The officer gives me his arm and walks me outside, and I see Lindsey standing on the sidewalk. He's only half dressed, and he looks dazed. He sees me and catches my eye, his eyes lighting up. I see him excuse himself and hurry over to me.
"Are you okay?" He brushes my hair back, assessing the damage. I nod and he holds my chin, turning my head to look at me more closely. "Oh, Stevie."
EMS approaches us and asks us if we want to go inside, and we head into the living room, letting them ask us whatever questions they need to ask us. After what feels like an eternity, we're cleaned up and tired but they decide we don't need an emergency room visit. They promise to follow up and disappear as quickly as they came. Lindsey silently cleans up the things that were broken, neither one of us capable of speaking just yet.
"He can't bother us now," he finally says, joining me on the couch. He lets out a sigh as he sits beside me, clearly trying to calm himself down.
"This should never have happened. I told you it wasn't safe, I told Christine this would happen..."
"Stevie, we're okay. He's in jail. This is over."
"No, it's not. This is just the beginning. We're going to have to..."
"I'm not talking about this. It's almost 5 o'clock in the morning and we aren't going to solve anything right now." He's right. I shove my fears aside for now and turn to really look at him. He lets me touch him, and I wince a little as I lean in to assess the gash on his head.
"I'm so sorry, Lindsey."
"You have nothing to apologize for." His eyes are closed, and I can't tell if he's too exhausted to keep them open or just unable to look at me. Just as I'm about to say something, his eyes open and he searches mine. He's scanning my face, reading me. His expression softens and he exhales slowly. "Are you ready to go lay down?"
I shake my head, trying not to cry again. I've done enough of that. "You can sleep. I need some time."
"Do you want to be alone?" I shake my head again, and he pulls me into his lap. "Baby, you're safe now. We're okay now." I rest my head on him, still struggling against my tears. "Will you please cry or yell or break something? I need you to be human right now."
"I... really don't want to right now."
"Your ex just broke into the house, smashed a glass on my head, tackled you and punched you and tried to drag you out the door. You don't want to react?"
"I've devoted way too much emotional energy to this."
"I'll get angry for you, then. This motherfucker never gets anywhere near us ever again. Do you understand? We are doing everything we can to destroy him. And I swear to God, if he so much as says your name ever again I will end him." I haven't seen him this angry at anyone before, and it's slightly scary, but I don't want to stop him. "Coke-binging, woman-beating piece of shit." I don't know what to say, so I just lay my head on his shoulder and play with his curls, trying to calm him down.
"You're kind of sexy when you're beating guys up for me," I say, trying to lighten the mood. I can't handle any more intensity.
He laughs a little and looks at me. "You're lucky you're worth the drama," he says, hugging me and burying his face in my neck playfully.
"You're the one who made me come here."
"And I wouldn't have had it any other way."
My adrenaline suddenly crashes and I feel my eyes start to close as he holds me. "I think we need some sleep."
"I was hoping you'd say that," he says, letting me stand up and then leading me up the stairs to his room. We change and climb into bed, both still a little shaky and on edge. He plays with my hair, trying to keep me calm. By the time I drift off, the sun is starting to come up and Lindsey has stopped fighting his exhaustion. Despite the chaos of the night, I'm oddly at peace.
