I heard a rustling behind me and quickly wiped at the tears in my eyes, turning to see no one there. I turned back and took a deep breath to calm my now quickly beating heart. “Whatcha cryin’ for?” A deep raspy voice came from beside me and made me jump up from the bench.
I looked over and found a gangly looking boy, probably no more than nineteen, staring at me. His eyes were dark, like he was up to no good. I slowly started to back away from him, something about the way he was looking at me made my stomach do flips. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Ah, American. Whatcha doin’ out here all by yourself?” he asked as he started inching his way toward me.
“I’m just waiting on my friends,” I lied. My heart was pounding in my chest as I turned to try and find my way back to where I had come from. But as I looked desperately around the park, everything started to look the same. “They should be here any minute. I should probably go meet them.”
“Why don’t you just stay here and hang out with me?” He smirked a wicked grin that made my stomach drop deeper into the pit of my stomach.
“No. I really should go.” I was walking backwards, my eyes darting here and there, praying I was going the right way when he started coming at me faster, his hands reaching out toward me.
I turned and attempted to take off running when my sneaker caught on the edge of the sidewalk and I flew forward into the grass, sliding a few feet on my hands and knees before I finally came to a stop. He was standing over me now, laughing in a way that made me fear my life. I panicked when his hands starting coming down toward me, and with all the might I had in my sore legs, I reared back and kicked him as hard as I could between the legs. I heard him let out a guttural sound of pain before he fell to his knees gagging.
“Bitch!” he shouted as I scurried to my feet and took off toward the road. As I made it to the edge of the sidewalk, attempting to cross back across the street, I saw a motorcycle come up to my left and stop.
I could see his grin fall as he took in my now dirty and scraped hands and knees. “What in the bloody hell?” McGee snatched off his helmet, throwing it on his seat, and rushed over to me. “What the fuck happened?” He grabbed my wrists and took in my bloody hands before looking up at my teary eyes. I didn’t really know what to say, I only glanced over toward the park where the bastard that had come after me was slowly getting up off the ground, limping toward me until he saw McGee’s large figure. “He touch you?” McGee’s eyes were alight with an anger I’d never seen in a man before, the look of a protector.
“Uh… I uh…” I stuttered.
“Starla, you answer me right now.” His voice was stern and commanding, “Did he feckin’ touch you without your permission?”
“Yes,” I said as my lip trembled. I felt embarrassed.
Without another word, McGee stormed off after the man who was trying to quickly limp away. I saw him grab the boy by his shirt and snatch him backward, dropping him to the ground with ease. In another swift move and McGee was on top of him, his fists flying into the boy’s face, as he screamed out, “You. Don’t Ever. Touch. A. Woman. Like. That.” One more hard punch down, causing me to flinch in pain for the boy, “Again!” McGee grabbed the boy by his throat, pulling him up off the ground as blood, spit, and snot ran down the boy’s face. I could hear him sucking in ragged breaths as the sobs from the pain that McGee had just put on him sank in. McGee drug him across the courtyard and over toward me, stopping a few feet away. “You feckin’ apologize, or so help me I will rip your feckin’ insides out right here in the town square.” As he grew angrier, McGee’s accent got heavier, making it harder for me to understand what he was saying.
“I’m… I’m sorry,” the boy said, so low it was almost a whisper. But then he probably couldn’t open his mouth very wide either. His broken jaw was already starting to swell up.
McGee dropped him on the ground, spitting toward him, and then made his way over to me. “Come on, las. Let’s get you back and cleaned up.” He helped me over to his motorcycle, handing me his helmet to put on, and then motioned for me to get on behind him.
I slowly maneuvered myself onto the bike behind him, grimacing as my scraped knees stung as I put my feet up onto the foot pegs. I wrapped my arms around him, trying to avoid making contact with his shirt in an effort to keep him from getting any blood on him, and we took off down the road. What seemed like forever to walk, was just a short drive back on his motorcycle. We made it to the hotel and he backed his motorcycle into an open spot in front of the pub and helped me off.