The Brink of Destruction

The light from the rising sun was beginning to fill the room with a golden glow, and as I swam to consciousness, I could hear the sound of water from the showers down the hall. Slowly, I unbent my arms and legs, wincing as I discovered the bruises that had surfaced as I slept.

Beside me on the pillow, Billie's face was a picture of innocence, so unlike the fierce front he put on when he was awake. His full lips and long lashes gave him an almost baby-faced expression, and for a long time, I lay still, just watching him sleep.

How could he and Frat Boy even be the same species?

Pulling the blanket up to cover his shoulders, I let my arm rest around his slender waist, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. His eyelids opened slowly, his impossibly green eyes sparkling, and a smile lit up his face like the sun.

"Good morning," he whispered. His arm slipped around me and pulled me close to him, and he pressed his cheek against my forehead. "How you feelin'?"

"I'm fine. A few bruises, but no big deal. Thank you so much for staying with me last night, Billie. You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to. And I always do what I want."

I had to laugh. "Yes, you do."

He looked at me, more serious. "Are you sure you don't need me to take you to a doctor, just to be checked?"

"I'm sure," I nodded. "I'm really okay, I promise."

He was stroking my arm now, soothingly. "Okay. But there's one other thing I want you to do. You need to call campus security and report what happened."

I really just wanted to forget about it and put it behind me. "I don't think there's any need to do that," I said.

"I do." There was a finality in his voice that told me it wasn't open to negotiation. "Gen, the guy just lives in the dorm around the corner from you. Hell, the fire doors between them aren't even locked! You need to make sure you're safe."

"I know, but he doesn't know where I live." I was probably making excuses, but I just didn't want to make a big deal out of it.

"Maybe not, but do you want to find out?"

I sighed. "Okay, I guess you're right. It can't hurt. I'll call them in just a little while. Happy now?"

He looked relieved. "Yes, I am. Besides, the sleazy son of a bitch needs to know he can't fuck with you. It pisses me off so bad that he put his hands on you. He needs to be taught a lesson the hard way!" He was getting angry as he spoke, I could hear it in his voice.

"Billie, please don't waste your time getting mad. He's not worth it."

"No, he's not. Goddamned perverted piece of shit," he muttered. He sounded as if he'd bottled the anger up all night, and that worried me.

*******************

I stopped by the security office on the way to work at the library, and the officer took the report and took pictures of the bruises. They asked if I wanted to press charges against the boy, but the thought of having to appear in court was more than I wanted to deal with. Reassured that I could reopen the case if I changed my mind, I at least knew he'd be on their radar.

As I walked home after my shift was finished, I turned the corner to the dorms to see two white and dark blue police cars parked at the curb by Canterbury. For a second, it didn't even occur to me that it might have anything to do with me, but as I got closer, one of the officers standing on the sidewalk near the door approached me.

"Excuse me, ma'am, is your name Genesis Hayden?" he asked, making notes on a clipboard.

"Yes, it is," I answered warily. "Is there a problem?"

"We'd just like to ask you a few questions regarding a report of an assault that occurred at this address. We were given information that you may have some knowledge about the incident." He was clinical, that was for sure.

"I was the one who filed the report, if that's what you mean."

He looked confused for a moment, his brows beetling. Checking his clipboard, he continued, "Are you referring to an assault on a Mr. Jordan Davis by a Mr. William Armstrong?"

I gasped. "What? He's saying Billie attacked him?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"That's the information we have in his report, ma'am. Were you present at the time of the altercation?"

"Yes, I was, but it certainly didn't happen the way that report shows! Your 'Mr. Davis' forced me into one of the rooms in the dorm and tried to rape me! Billie--Mr. Armstrong--and his friend Mike Pritchard were able to break the lock and stop him before he actually did it!" I could feel my own anger rising now.

"And when was your report filed?" he asked, clearly trying to sort something out in his mind.
"Earlier this morning. I didn't call last night because I knew there was no need for an exam or anything, and I decided not to press charges." Had I made a mistake in waiting?

He glanced over the clipboard again. "Ma'am, the incident we're responding to occurred at approximately 2:15 this afternoon."

Jesus, he'd gone after him.

"Officer, I thought you were talking about the attempted rape last night. What happened today?" My stomach was rolling with anxiety.

"According to the call, the assailant entered the SAE fraternity house by unknown means, knocked at the door of the victim's room, and when he answered, Mr. Armstrong entered the room and assaulted him."

"Can you ask Mr. Davis to come out here and talk with us now?" I asked him. I really wanted to see what he'd tell the police about what he'd done the night before.

"I'm afraid that's not possible, ma'am. Mr. Davis is at the Medical Center receiving treatment for his injuries."

Holy shit--he'd put him in the fucking hospital! I couldn't help thinking that I would have loved to see his sorry ass when Billie was finished with him, but it wouldn't help for the police to think I was laughing about it.

"Can you tell me where Billie is now?" I asked, hoping I could see him.

"He's in the back of that car there--" and he caught my arm as soon as I started toward it. "But I can't allow you to talk with him until we've taken him in for booking."

"But I have no way to get to the station!" I pleaded.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but unless you were a material witness to this incident, I can't allow you to ride in the squad car." Obviously finished with me, he clipped his pen to the clipboard and turned to get into the car.

For the first time, I caught a glimpse of Billie through the back window, a grim smile on his face. He held up his cuffed hands, giving me two thumbs up, and mouthed "Don't worry." Then they pulled away.

I stood for a moment on the sidewalk, trying to figure out how to help him, but my brain was too overloaded to think clearly. Just when I was about to head inside, Mike came loping up the pathway from the parking lot, breathless and clearly upset.

"Gen, I have some bad news--" he began.

I touched his arm to stop him. "If it's about Billie, I already know. They've taken him down to book him, and they just left a minute ago."

"C'mon, we can head down there and find out what's going on." His long legs were already hurrying down the path.

"Mike, did he say anything to you about this?"

Turning the key to the Camaro, he shook his head. "I haven't even seen him today. He didn't come by to change clothes or eat, at least not while I was there."

We sat in worried silence the rest of the way to the security office.

Of course we had to wait. The visitors area was bland and chilly, with hard plastic chairs, barred windows, and scuffed linoleum, and there seemed to be no color except institutional green. Half an hour or so passed, and the arresting officer came back in for us. After the obligatory metal detector scan, he took us to a short, locked hallway with two cells on each side.

Billie sat alone in the last one on the right, one foot tucked under him on the bunk, and the other green Converse swinging as usual. When he saw us, he rose and came to the bars, reaching through to take my hands.

"Hey Dirnt, if you touch my stuff while I'm gone, I'll pee in your beer, I swear to God!" he chuckled. Clearly, he wasn't nearly as upset about the situation as I was--I found I was dangerously close to tears. I hated seeing him here, in trouble, all because of me.

"Billie, what happened?" I asked, smoothing his hair and stroking his stubbly cheek.

That scoundrel grin stole across his face. "I kicked his fuckin' ass, didn't I?" he said.

"Bastard won't be forcing himself on a lady again any time soon!"

"Jesus, Beej," Mike groaned. "Do you ever think before you do stuff like this?" He ran his hand through his hair, trying to summon patience. "Where are we going to get money for bail?"

"Fuck bail," Billie snarled. "I don't care if I have to sit here for a month, as long as I know he's not going to be able to touch you, Genny."

As hard as I was trying, a big tear slid down my face and I had to look away from him.

"Hey, hey, what's the matter?" he asked, chuckling softly. "There's nothing to cry about!"

"You've been arrested, Billie! Doesn't that bother you? Because of me, you'll have a record!"

He looked at Mike and shook his head, as if he didn't know where to begin. "Gen, this is a much smaller deal than you think. I'm not exactly proud of it, but this isn't the first time I've been locked up, you know. It's just the first time I've been locked up for something I'm proud of."

"Dude, I'll see if we have anything in the instrument fund," Mike offered. "We'll get you out of here, I promise."

"Mike, don't you dare touch that money. We've got to get a new bass amp for you, and we've almost got enough. Just fucking wait, and when this goes to court and I tell them what he did, I'll be out in no time."

Mike looked hard at his friend, and then shrugged. He knew he was beaten. "Suit yourself, man. I'm just trying to help you."

"I know it, buddy. You just take care of these women until I get out, okay?" His hand closed around Mike's wiry, sinewy forearm, and he looked earnestly into his friend's blue eyes.

"Man, thanks for always having my back. Seriously."

Mike nodded bashfully. "Okay, man, just don't get all emo on me."

As we left the building and sat down in the car, I turned to Mike one last time.

"Would you take me to Annamaria's?" I asked. He stared at me with one eyebrow raised, as if I'd lost my mind.

"Billie needs help, and I don't know where else to go," I explained.

Bat listened patiently, exclaiming his outrage at Jordan's behavior the night before, nodding his concern for me. When we told him where Billie was, he surprised me by laughing.

"Thatta boy, he gotta sucha hot temper! Maybe it's gonna burn him up one day, uh? He don'na stop to think before he act, then he get in big trouble! Lissen, Mikey, you tella Bat how mucha the bail, I give you the money--but it will be our secret, eh? You don' tell him, I don' tell him. We justa let him think Santa came early!"

For the second time since I'd met this wonderful, kind man, I had to give him a big hug. He waved the thanks aside as if he'd done nothing.

"Don'na worry. That boy, he always lands on his feet, like a cat. He's gonna be fine, you know?"

I had a feeling he was right.