Starting Over(Hart of Seattle)

Chapter Twelve



“How are you feeling?” Marketta asked.
“Better. My face looks like a nightmare and is still tender to the touch. That eye is a little blurry and if I think about it, my head starts hurting, but other than that...”
“And the hunk? How’s he? He called to check on you today?”
Von cleared her throat and shifted on her ottoman, glad her cousin couldn’t see her face. “Sean? He’s, um, fine.”
“What time did he leave last night? I kept expecting you to call,” she scolded.
“Oh, um, he just left.”
There was silence. Then in a low, controlled voice, her cousin asked, “He spent the night?”
“Yeah.” Von winced when her voice cracked. You’re a grown woman. You can have a man spend the night.
“With you.”
She cleared her throat again. Darn frogs. “Um-hmm.”
“I don’t suppose he slept on the couch,” Marketta asked wryly.
Von looked at the piece of furniture, remembered what activity had recently taken place on it, and felt her face catch fire. “Uh, no.”
“I see.”
How did her cousin manage to reduce her to feeling like a teenager being called on the carpet by an irate parent? To lessen her guilt, she burst out, “Sean asked me to marry him.”
Marketta took a deep breath, and then another, and Von knew she was biting back her initial response. Finally, she said, “Von, honey, don’t you think you’re moving kind of fast. I’m all for you getting rid of a*shole, don’t get me wrong, but what do you really know about this man other than he’s fine as hell and can obviously lay it down between the sheets?”

Von rose and began to pace her living room. “I didn’t say yes. I know it’s too soon, despite how I feel about him.”
“And just how do you feel about him?”
Von sighed. “I love him. Really, truly and deeply love him. You were right. I cared about Derrick and maybe even loved him, but I wasn’t in love with him.” She paused by a window and looked out at the woods while she considered her words. “I thought at first maybe it was the sex. You know, the intimacy and novelty of it.” Not that she’d tell Marketta, but Sean had told her about Lycan pheromones and shared his concern that they might be affecting her emotions toward him. His honesty had only made her love him more.
“But it’s not the sex,” she continued. “Sean sees me and he likes what he sees. He listens to what I have to say and cares about how I feel. He’s not trying to change me or mold me into his perfect woman,” she finished with a hint of sarcasm.
“I’m glad you finally realize that’s what D was doing,” Marketta said, sounding relieved.
“Yeah, me too. You know he came here this morning, said he was willing to forgive me for Sean and offered to take me back. No apologies for hitting me. He acted like I made him do it.”
“You’re shitting me. That bastard! I knew I should have followed my first instinct and put a cap in his ass. You didn’t agree, did you? Honey, tell me you told D where to shove it!”
Von rubbed her face. “No, I didn’t go along with it. For once I told him how I really felt, about everything. The sad thing is, if he would have gotten to me last night before Sean, I might have fallen for it and agreed with him.” And didn’t that make her feel all warm and fuzzy inside? She was so disgusted with herself and how weak she’d been where Derrick was concerned.
“Then I’m glad I let Sean into the apartment. Someone needed to open your eyes.”
“You were doing a good job of it. It’s just that Derrick had become a habit.” Von shrugged. “You know how hard habits are to break.”
“Well, don’t beat yourself up about it. You aren’t the first woman to stay in a bad relationship because it was comfortable. Change is hard, even when it’s good for us. Then you had all that other baggage,” Marketta stated.
“You were right about that, too. I’m not my momma and I need to stop making decisions based on her.”
“It’s about damn time you realized that!”
Von laughed a little at her cousin’s enthusiasm.
“So, what are you going to do about the hunk?”
“Sean has two months’ leave and says he’s planning on spending it here, with me. We’ll take our time, do couple’s stuff, and see what happens. Marketta, he’s serious about that marriage proposal. If I’d let him, he’d marry me today. He’s up for re-enlistment and said he’d leave the decision up to me. He’s willing to get out and move here, if that’s what I want.”
“With the economy the way it is, he’d better stay his ass in the military.” Marketta paused, then asked, “Would you really go with him?”
“I might. It’s not like I’d have a problem finding work. I’d miss you and the rest of the family but Sean...he just does it for me. I can’t explain,” she finished lamely.
“I can. You’re in love. The real deal. When Derrick was enlisted, you never mentioned joining him. You never even thought about going to visit him the few times he was stateside.”
Von went back to the couch and sat. “Back then I was busy with school and didn’t have any money. And I was scared to leave momma, scared of what would happen to her if I wasn’t around to check on her.”
“Honey, if he really wanted you with him, he’d have paid for you to come, and your momma’s a grown woman. She can take care of herself. She’s not your responsibility.”
“I know that, now.” Not comfortable talking about Derrick, Von changed the subject. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Me? Nothing.”
“Why don’t you come over? Sean went to the base to get some stuff. Then he’s picking up some movies and Chinese food on his way back. He likes you.”
“Yeah? Still? After last night?”
Von hesitated. “Last night? What did you do?”
“Oh, nothing much.”
She groaned. “Marketta, knowing you—” Someone bammed on the front door.
“Is that your door?”
“Yeah. They must have the wrong apartment. So, you coming over?” she asked as she walked to the door.
“Yes, I’m coming. Who can turn down Chinese? Make sure he gets Sweet and Sour Chicken. You know I love that stuff.”
“Damn,” Von cursed in a low voice and jumped away from the door.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Pastor Wilkins,” she whispered.
“So don’t open the door. Act like you’re not home.”
“My car’s out front.” She winced as he hammered on the door again. “I don’t think he’ll go away.”
“Vondalyn! Open the door, child!”
“Vondalyn? That’s not your name,” Marketta said.
Von sighed and rolled her head on her shoulders to ease the tension. “I know. He knows, but he insists on calling me that.”
“Now I see where a*shole gets it from. It’s genetic.”
Pastor Wilkins pounded on the door again.
“Look, I gotta go. Might as well get this over with.”
“Okay. I’m on my way. Later.”
“Later,” she echoed. She disconnected and in a loud voice, called out, “Just a minute.”
Von rushed into the room and grabbed a scrunchie, quickly pulling her hair into a messy ponytail. She shut the bedroom door behind her and on her way to the door, straightened the pillows on the couch. Spotting her torn underwear on the floor, she scooped them up and shoved them under a sofa pillow. Then hurried to the door.
She took a deep calming breath, wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans, then cracked open the door. “Pastor, I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Let me in, child. Don’t keep me out on the stoop.”
Very aware of her braless state, she said, “I’m not dressed for company.”
“When a pastor drops in on his parishioners, he’s not expecting them to be perfectly put together,” he said gently.
Von reluctantly stepped aside and allowed him to enter her apartment. Derrick Senior looked nothing like his son. Whereas Derrick Junior was lean and slender, Derrick Senior was built along the lines of a football player. Even though he was in his mid-fifties, he still worked out and kept in shape. There was no flab on this man, no beer gut, just two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle. His head was bald and face grave, his expression, like now, usually set in stern lines. By comparison, Derrick Junior was small, almost delicate looking. Von had decided years ago the son must take after his mother.
She shut the door, but left it unlocked, hoping this would be a quick visit. Even after years of knowing him, Von still felt uncomfortable in his presence. “Would you care for some refreshment?”
“No, don’t put yourself to any trouble.” When she turned, he got a good look at her face. “Did my son do that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Care to tell me what happened?”
“No, sir.”
He arched an eyebrow. “I see. May I have a seat?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, please.” She gestured toward the seating arrangement in the living room.
He loosened his tie before sitting on the two-person ottoman. Von took the armchair across from him, pulling her feet up into the chair and hiding her chest behind her knees.
“I spoke with Derrick today.” Von tensed. “When he didn’t come to church, I was concerned. It’s not like my son to miss service, especially when he has to speak. He told me you two were having some...difficulties.”
Von gripped her jeans with tightly clenched fingers. “With all due respect, Pastor, I believe what happens between me and your son is just that, between us.”
As Derrick Senior leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs, his suit jacket fell open. With his intent stare focused directly on her, Von had to force herself not to fidget. “I’m aware that you feel I’m too involved in your and Derrick’s relationship. Derrick has expressed with me how unhappy you were that I advised him to wait on your nuptials.”
Angry and defensive, Von stated in as calm a voice as she could manage, “I understood the reasoning behind Derrick’s decision. I simply wished he would have discussed it with me first, especially since it affected both of us.”
“Hmm, I see.” He glanced down, playing with the creases in his dress pants before pinning her with another look. “You know the bible teaches women to be submissive to their husbands.”
“Yes, but as I told Derrick, we’re not married yet.” She sighed. “Pastor, I have no problem following the leading of my husband. I believe that the husband should be the head of the household. I want my husband to lead. What I don’t want is to be treated like a mindless child. You taught me that a wife should be a helpmate to her husband. To me that means we should work together, like partners, with Derrick having the final say. Not the only say, but the final one.”
Derrick Senior smiled ruefully. “Listening to you, you remind me of my wife. She had a lot of the same views on marriage and relationships.” He stood, straightening his clothes, and Von scrambled to her feet as well. “I’ll leave you two young people to work out your issues on your own. You know I’m always available for counseling.”
“Thank you, sir.” Relieved that he wasn’t going to pry, Von trailed behind him to the entryway. When he paused to let her pass, she gave him a brief smile and quickened her pace, eager to have him gone.
Derrick Senior crowded her, walking almost on her heels. Just a few more steps and he’ll be gone. She was reaching for the doorknob when a violent shove from behind had her crashing into the wood of the door—face first.
Derrick Senior’s ham-like hands came up and grabbed her by the throat in a strangle hold. He shook her viciously, smashing Von’s head repeatedly against the door. She tried to fight, to get loose, but he was too big, too strong, and had the element of surprise on his side.
Unable to breathe, she rapidly lost strength, black spots appearing before her eyes. Just when she knew she was dead, Derrick Senior flung her aside like a ragdoll. She crumpled on the floor, hands on her throat, coughing and gasping for air. The first kick landed in her stomach. The second, her ribs. She curled into a fetal position, arms cradling her head, trying to protect as much of her body as possible as his hard-toe dress shoes made repeated contact with her fragile body.
He suddenly leaned down and snatched her head back by her hair. “Did you think my son wouldn’t tell me how you whored yourself with his friend, turning the two of them against each other? How you tried to entice Derrick by coming to him half naked, and when he resisted, you seduced his friend instead?” Derrick Senior’s eyes glittered madly.
He’s crazy! How had he managed to hide it so well?
He looked on her with disdain. “You women are all alike. Connivers, manipulators, like Jezebel, you use your wiles to try and control men. But I’ll teach you, same way I taught my wife.”
He yanked hard on her head, dragging a cry of pain out of Von. Then he wrapped her hair around his fist, using it to pin her to the floor. Von forced her body to unfold and swing, despite the pain her action caused. She missed when he jerked back.
He hit her again, casually, painfully, the way one would swat an insect. Von tried to fight but was easily subdued. “I don’t know what the hell my son saw in you. He could have done much better,” he grunted.
Derrick Senior grabbed her t-shirt by the neckline, under her chin, and ripped the shirt down the middle. Releasing her hair, he mauled both breasts, squeezing hard. Von screamed and fought like a wildcat, managing to catch his face with her nails. Bloody welts appeared.
In retaliation he backhanded her, his blow landing on the same side as Derrick’s. Stars exploded behind her eyes and everything went dark.
Can’t pass out.
Von fought with everything inside of her to stay conscious, terror giving her the needed strength. She felt his hands on the zipper of her jeans and lashed out with her feet. There was a meaty thud as she connected, the impact rocking him backwards. This time he roared.
He fell on top of her, his fists raining mighty blows to her unprotected body. She was barely conscious when he flipped her onto her stomach and snatched the waistband of her pants. Von felt cool air hit her butt, then heard him fumbling with his buckle.
No, this is not happening. I didn’t survive my momma’s boyfriends to go out like this.
She pushed onto her elbows and tried to crawl away.
“Stubborn bitch. Just like my wife. Never knew when to give up.” He captured her by the ankle and dragged her back. His hands were on her hips, yanking her into position when a loud popping sound filled the air.
Derrick Senior bucked on top of Von. She whimpered, in pain and fear, expecting at any moment to feel the steel rod of his flesh ripping through her. Instead, he shoved off her, yelling angrily. Von heard the sound again, rapid fire this time. Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!
Then there was a loud, floor-shaking thud as something heavy hit the ground. She heard moaning, a “Take that, you bastard!” and then a masculine scream of pain.
“Von, damn it, I told you not to open the f*cking door. When will you listen to me?” A shadow fell over her and she flinched away from the hands reaching for her. “It’s all right. It’s me.” Gentle hands straightened her clothes. “2581 Bartram Ave, Apartment 4-B...Rescue...my cousin’s beat pretty bad, and you probably better send the cops since I emptied my clip into the a*shole I caught trying to rape her.”
“Hurts,” she whimpered.
“Derrick Wilkins Senior...No, he’s not dead yet, but if you don’t get here soon, maybe.” To Von she said, “I know, honey. Hold on, Von. Help’s com— Yeah, she’s conscious, barely...I’ll stay on the line.”
“Not safe,” she whispered, hearing but not really comprehending what was being said.
“Trust me, he’s not going anywhere. If he moves, the next bullet’s hitting his head or his dick. You got that, a*shole?”
“Call...Sean...warn...”
“Hush, now. I’ll take care of everything.”
Trusting her cousin to do just that, Von gave up her fight to stay conscious.