Having been given my task I set to it. Keeping both eyes on Chloe. There I stood guard in the bedroom doorway. While she was sat exactly where Crystal had placed her. Right in the corner, her knees touching her chest. Still clutching that teddy bear in a death grip. I tried to smile at her. From the stretching of rarely used muscles in my face, I was confident I'd succeeded. I didn't say a word. I had no small talk in my entire body and little in common with a tiny 6 year old. She was staring at me warily. Big round eyes. Blinking rapidly. I searched through my memory for something to break the silence with. A few sentences from my own early years floated up from the darkness. Chloe beat me to the draw.
"This is Bear." She lisped.
My face hurt again. This time of its own volition.
"Hello Bear. Nice to meet you." I held out my hand as if to shake his. She grinned.
"Silly. Bear doesn't shake hands."
"Do you?" I asked.
Her face crinkled up as she pondered that.
"I don't think so. My names Chloe Martins, what's yours?"
"It's Luke Hunt."
"Why do you talk funny Luke?"
That was a question I'd answered a hundred times recently. In many different forms. A few of them threats.
"I'm not from round these parts." I answered as best I could.
I don't think Chloe really understood, if you know what I mean. Something banged outside. Chloe jumped. Her eyes wide with terror. I strained my ears as she stared at me. Faintly I could hear a shout and more banging. Then it was shut out as the front door closed. Have you ever had that big red danger warning explode inside your head. Because that's what I got right then. My pulse rate went from 60 to 140 instantly.
"I'm scared Luke. Don't let the man hurt my mommy."
"Chloe. Get to my room. Hide under my bed." I ordered.
She didn't. All she did was shake her head continuously. I picked her up and carried her to my room. Pulled out the suitcase under my bed and shoved her under. Then I pushed the case back, as I heard the front door opening again. Crystal had left it on the latch, knowing she'd be returning shortly. Now I could hear her more clearly. Yelling at the top of her lungs. Make sure no harm comes to her, were my orders.
CLICK.
I killed the lights. Now the only illumination came from the living room. I could hear the slow footsteps. There was no shadow of a doubt this was danger. I got my knife from its regular hiding place. Clutching it in my right hand I slid my feet across the floor. Moving along the hallway. I'd reached Chloe's room when a shadow cut off most of the light from the other room. He was big and thanks to the circumstances he looked enormous. What I then did is purely guess work on my part. I may be putting more logic into this than there actually was. Let's pretend I knew there was no way I was stopping this guy from getting to Chloe eventually. That I reasoned I could only delay him. Further imagine I screamed and ran at him. The man recoiled and I slashed at him with the knife. All I did was slash his hand. He staggered back another pace or two, but now he could see me. He was better with a knife than I was, that's for sure.
I know I was grappling with him and he with me. Climbing up his torso, wrapping myself around his knife arm. Kicking against the walls or anything to throw him off balance. Blackness. My neck hurt. My shoulder hurt in a different way. One that reached down to the core of my body. Crystal screamed. There was a loud bang. Then more nothing. Until my fragmented consciousness jackknifed me awake. I coughed. Tasted blood. My eyes flickered open. I gazed upon the tilted face of an angel. Reached out to touch the halo.
"It's okay kid. Lie still. Don't move it's okay. Keep still."
"Chloe?" Blood filled my mouth as I began to pant rapidly.
"She's fine kid. She's fine. Stay with me." The calm soothing of her voice cracked. "Where are those fucking paramedics?"
According to the only witness my final words before lapsing into unconsciousness were. "Mom? Dad? Can I die now please?."
What I did that night wasn't heroic. It wasn't brave. It was survival instinct. Nothing I did was noble or selfless. What I did that night dropped Ms Crystal Goodbody into a major shitstorm. I'd been stabbed in the lung by the late Karl Jenkins, before Crystal put three rounds into his chest and cut short his pointless, destructive life. I suppose you could say that some good came out of it because of that. He wouldn't be beating on Chloe's mom anymore. When the paramedics cut away my clothes they found my body covered in overlapping bruises. Old and new.
For the next two days, while I was comfortably medicated into oblivion, she had to undergo repeated interrogation and accusation. Child abuse, child endangerment. How did the bruising occur? She didn't know. The only thing she knew was it wasn't her. Which is what every guilty person says. It's also what every innocent person says, which is forgotten when blame needs to be attached to someone. Chloe was removed from her care while investigations took place. My stupidity looked as if it had cost her everything she'd been striving for. So I was not heroic or noble. I was a thoughtless idiotic child.
The police interviewed me and took a statement shortly after I regained consciousness. That's when the smarts kicked in and I knew what I'd done to the only person I cared about. And I knew that having done that, there was no way she'd want anything more to do with me. They wouldn't let her anywhere near me anyway. The sense of loss rivalled that I'd experienced with the deaths of my parents. I thought I was being so clever hiding the evidence of the beatings from her. Part of me decided it was for the best. I was far too hazardous to have around.
I gained a slight uplift when I received my only visitors up to this point. Chloe and her mom came to see me. Chloe even gave me a hug. Hurting my knife wound in the process. Not that I minded. I was both gladdened and saddened by this gesture from a small child.
Eventually they decided to believe my account. That I was getting beaten up on my way home from school after they'd cracked down on the beatings I'd been receiving at school. My testimony along with a lot of other factual evidence led to them releasing Crystal from purgatory. She'd be allowed to see me. Why would she want to? If I hadn't completely destroyed her life, I'd made a good start at burning it down to the ground. But visit me she did. Thanks to my wound becoming infected I had to remain hospitalized for 8 days. That's the problem with wife beaters. They never clean the knives they use to stab you with. I ended up being there a week. When they finally allowed her to visit me I was to be released the following day. She looked so sad as she walked in.
"I'm sorry." I got out, choking on my own words. "This is all my fault."
A wry smile chased across her face as she approached my bed.
"Why didn't you tell me what was happening to you?" Her hand brushed my cheek and brow.
I couldn't bring myself to look at her.
"I didn't want you to get in trouble again. With the school and child services."
"But they were hurting you every day."
"I didn't mind. I knew I could cope with it. It was only pain and bruises."
"The doctor said you'll be fine. No lasting damage. I hear Chloe's been to see you. You're her hero, you know. Bear's got a new name now. He's Luke Bear."
She saw the distaste I had for that H word.
"At least I kept her safe. That's one good thing I've done. Only a million more to make up for..."
"It wasn't your fault. The bastard locked me in my own workshop. I had to drill my way out. Chloe's safe. That's all that matters. You're being released tomorrow."
This I already knew. Believe it or not they hadn't told me what was going to happen after that. It's not universal, but if you ask most of the people who have ever passed through the CPS they'll tell you they often have no idea what's going to happen to them next. There is no sense of permanence whatsoever.
"I never meant to cause you so much trouble Ms Goodbody."
"It's okay. I'm used to trouble. Been my companion for a lot of years. I'll be picking you up at 2:30."
"Sorry? Why would you be picking me up?"
"To take you home of course. I've cleaned up the mess that piece of crap made. That along with a couple of other things kept me busy through all this. Gave me a chance to make a few alterations. So it wasn't all bad."
She had granted me another chance. The joy that filled me blotted out all other sensations. It filled me up and overflowed. This was bliss. I'd been granted redemption by that angel.
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