“All right, buddy, time to take a ride to the drunk tank.” Randy came over to the guy, rolled him to his stomach, and then pressed his knee into his back, winning another grunt from him. Randy then whipped out his cell and I heard him giving our location to—I assumed—the 911 operator.
“You all right?” Devon asked, coming to stand right in front of me, his hands cupping the sides of my face. He was exactly where drunken frat boy had been just one minute earlier, but his presence didn’t scare me. In fact, it soothed me. I leaned forward until my head rested against his chest and sighed as his hands slid around me, bringing me closer.
“I’m okay,” I said, shivering as I spoke the words. He pulled me even closer still, running his hands up and down my back. “I sure am glad you showed up when you did.”
He let out a deep sigh, then said, “Looks like you laid him out all on your own.”
“Yeah,” I said, trying to fight the tears that were welling in my eyes. I was feeling so much, and it was all boiling over.
“Hey, you’re all right. I’m right here.” At his words, I pressed in closer. When I saw red and blue lights flashing around us, I looked up. Then I heard Randy’s voice.
“Hey, lookie here, scumbag. Your ride showed up.” The guy struggled beneath him, but it was useless. The two cops hopped out of their cars and took over wrangling the drunk guy. They got him cuffed and then put him in the back of the vehicle. One cop focused his attention on drunken frat boy, and the other came over to me, notepad open. Randy stood watch over me, which I appreciated, but Devon never left my side, his hand running smoothly up and down my back as I recounted to the officer what had happened.
“I’m not sure what he was planning on doing with me, if anything, but I just reacted on instinct and kneed him. He fell to the ground and then Randy and Devon showed up.”
“He’s lucky you got to him before I could,” Devon said quietly.
“I reckon he is,” the police officer replied, not looking up from his notepad.
“I’m actually kind of sad I didn’t get a go at him,” Randy added, eliciting a laugh from the cop.
“So, here’s the deal. We’ll take him to the station and book him, let him dry out. It’s up to you if you want to press charges. At the very least you should get a restraining order, just to keep him from coming back here and bothering you. But the decision is yours. Since all we have is him physically assaulting you, that’s all the charge would be, even though we’re not sure what he was planning.”
“Do I have to decide now?”
“No, ma’am. You’ve got two years to press charges, but the longer you wait, the less likely the charges are to stick. If you want him charged, I wouldn’t wait more than forty-eight hours.”
“Okay.”
He flipped his notepad closed, but pulled a card out of a pocket in the front cover and handed it to me. “If you have any more information, feel free to call or e-mail me. He’ll be locked up for at least twenty-four hours.”
“Thank you,” I said, gingerly taking the card, then looked down at my body, realizing I had nowhere to put it. Devon slowly reached out and took the card from me, putting it in his wallet.
“You go on home, Grace. If you need tomorrow off, just give us a call,” Randy said softly, the smoothest I’ve ever heard his voice. “Take all the time you need.”
I nodded and tried to speak, but my words were breathy and had no sound. I was balancing on the edge of a breakdown, so I just kept nodding.
“Let’s go, baby,” Devon said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, guiding me toward the front of the building where the parking lot was located.
“I need my purse,” I said suddenly, remembering it was still in my locker in the break room.
“I got it, Grace,” Randy said, disappearing into the bar.
I followed along with Devon, stopping when he came to the passenger side of his SUV. He opened the door and I climbed in without words or arguments. Randy brought him my purse and Devon climbed in, started the engine, and pulled out of the parking lot. I leaned my head against the window, watching the street lights pass by, and didn’t realize he’d driven me home until he parked the car.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked, turning the car off.
“Yeah,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure. “Thank you for the ride,” I said as I unbuckled my seat belt.
“You’re welcome, but I’m not just dropping you off.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t really think I’m going to let you stay alone in your apartment the night some guy attacks you, do you?”
“You’re… staying?”
“Do you want me to go?”
It took me a moment, but I slowly shook my head. “No, I don’t.”