Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jace
I went from a dead sleep to infused with adrenaline in about 30 seconds flat. I had no idea why Daphne would call me instead of the cops, but I couldn't just leave her alone to deal with someone who was threatening her.
She sounded scared to death. He must have hurt her really bad in the past. I had a hard time even letting myself imagine that. Every time I did, I was suddenly filled with an anger that I’d never experienced before.
I’m a priest. I’m a pacifist. I’d never actually been in a fight. I’d trained for them, but that was always just supposed to be about exercise. I was never supposed to use it.
When I first became a priest, I met this other young father that was completely ripped. I couldn’t help but notice and one day, I finally asked him about it. Growing up, all the priests and Bishops that I’d known had been older and most of them were soft and a little paunchy. I’d assumed back then that taking care of their body would be considered vanity and vanity is a sin.
But this young priest told me about a new movement amongst the leaders of the Catholic Church. It involved being physically fit. Taking better care of the “temple” that God gave you.
I started going to his gym with him. It was a gym opened by a devoutly Catholic family, and the man who did the classes and the personal training was one of the board members of our church. I started working out with him and because I’d always been healthy and athletically inclined, I progressed quickly.
After about six months of intense daily work-outs, he started teaching me the basics of boxing. I’ve been doing that with him now for over three years and I wouldn’t doubt that I could take on any MMA fighter and come out on top, if I was so inclined.
I’d never had the desire to beat anyone up, though…until that phone call. It was frightening and exhilarating at the same time.
As I threw on my clothes, I said a prayer for guidance and one for patience. It wasn’t going to look good for the acting priest of the biggest parish in Lexington to get arrested for assault. I may as well kiss my career and any good reputation I had left goodbye. I finished my prayers on the road and assured myself that there was no way I’d be getting into a fight.
When I drove up to Daphne’s apartment building, I could see her door. It faced the street and the outside light was on. There was a big man on the porch, and I watched as he kicked the door several times and then had to reach out and grab hold of the railing to steady him. I had to assume that was her loving father. Poor Daphne.
I parked the car and tried to think fast. At last, I decided that feigning ignorance might be my best option.
I jogged over to him. He was on the landing and there were three small steps that led up to it. “Excuse me, sir? Is everything okay?” I said it as politely as I could. I didn’t feel neighborly at all, but I hoped I sounded it.
He glanced over his shoulder at me. His look was dark and menacing. He narrowed his eyes and said, “Mind your own business.”
This wasn’t going to be easy. He was drunk and obviously an ass. I took a deep breath and said, “You seem upset, sir. I’d like to help if I can. I live here, and we don’t like any problems. I’ll have to assume you’re trying to break into that apartment and call the police unless you tell me what is going on.”
“I’m just trying to get my daughter to open the fucking door,” he shouted the last part and slammed his open palm against the door. He was slurring his words together. She was right about him being drunk. He not only looked and sounded it — he stank. I was almost getting drunk off the fumes.
“Who’s your daughter?”
He looked annoyed again, but he said, “Daphne Carter…my Daffy…”
“Well that explains it, sir. The person who lives there isn’t named Daphne…”
“Oh, shut the hell up and go away!” he said, kicking the door again. He wasn’t buying my act any longer. “Daffy! Open this fucking door!”
“Sir, I’m calling the police” I had my phone in my hand, and I was literally shocked when he swung around and kicked it out of my palm. It flew into the bushes lining the stairwell. My hand stung…and now I was pissed.
Without thinking, I reacted. I reached up to grab him by the front of his shirt and pulled him down towards me. He tried to take a swing, but I had him too close, he didn’t have enough room to connect.
“What the hell are you doing? Let go of me!” I tried. I let go of him with a shove, and he fell on his ass on the sidewalk.
“Get out of here, this is the last time I’m asking you,” I told him. I was shocked at the feelings raging inside of me. If he was this willing to attack a stranger, what had he done to Daphne? He outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds and his fists were like huge bear paws. I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of him hurting her…of anyone hurting her.
That moment was when it finally clicked for me: what I felt for her went way beyond sex. I was actually tempted to kick him while I watched him struggle to his feet. I almost made myself sick.
I took a deep breath and watched him. I thought he was finished, and I was going to resist my urges and let him go. He turned his back to me and started to walk away. I had almost breathed a sigh of relief, when all of a sudden, he turned back and like a wild animal, he came at me.
I could have stepped out of the way…I suppose. But instead, I chose to bring up my knee. It connected with the soft part of his gut and as he fell forward, it hit the underside of his chin. He went down again. This time, he had blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
I had to try one last time to talk to him. It’s what I’m supposed to do…right? “Please, don’t make me hurt you anymore. Just walk away. My intentions here are not to hurt you.”
“Fuck you! You didn’t hurt me, you little pussy!” He wiped the blood from his chin and crawled back up out of the dirt, immediately taking a swing at me with his right arm.
I blocked it with my left and threw out a right jab. It landed squarely between his eyes, and his nose started spurting blood. He covered it with both his hands. Blood oozed out from between his fingers.
I couldn’t believe I caused that. In a nasally voice he said, “You broke my nose, you dumb fuck!”
“Not yet,” I told him. It wasn’t broken. I hadn’t hit him hard enough. “But I will if you don’t leave, right now.” The most frightening thing about that was that I meant it.
He looked like he might be drunk enough or stupid enough to say something else. I stayed in my fight stance wondering who the hell I was.
If Max and Ryan saw me as I was then, it would blow them away. We used to spar as boys and I was always the one to give in first. Not because I was a pussy, but because I just really hated the idea of fighting.
Finally, whatever good sense he had left kicked in. He dusted himself off, and with blood still pouring from his nose, he started to walk away. I tried to tell myself to just let him go, but I was beyond reasoning, even with myself.
“Hey!” I yelled at him. He stopped and turned around to look at me. He still had a smug look on his face and God help me, but I was tempted to wipe it off. Instead, in a voice infused with rage, I said, “If you ever come near her again…or even call her…I will find you and I will make your life a living hell. Do you understand me?”
In his nasally voice, he said, “Fuck you.” He spit on the sidewalk and blood went everywhere, and then he flipped me off before turning around again and walking away.
This time, I let him go. I think I was frozen for several seconds over the shock of hearing those words come out of my mouth. I’m a Catholic Priest. Jesus, what is happening to me?
I watched him make his way through the parking area. He was weaving as he walked. He didn’t get into a car. That was at least one good thing. I watched until he disappeared down the street into the night. He would probably walk into the nearest bar. Hopefully, they’d take one look at him and not serve him.
I knocked on the door and so she wouldn’t be too frightened to open it I called, “Daphne, it’s Jace. He’s gone.” Several minutes went by. I thought she wasn’t going to open the door so I said, “Daphne, you’re safe. Please open the door.”
Finally, when I was just about to knock again, I heard the latch. She pulled the door open just enough to peek out. I could see terror in her eyes and felt that surge of rage once more. I wished that I had broken his nose.
“He’s gone?” she asked in a shaky voice.
“Yeah, he’s not going to hurt you tonight…or ever again if I have anything to say about it.” She closed the door, and I heard her disengage the chain.
She pulled it back open and the rage morphed into instant desire. She was wearing a white tank top and it was evident that she didn’t have a bra on underneath. I could see her dark nipples through it and the flesh of her full breasts in the arm holes on the sides. Her shorts were what I think the girls call “booty” shorts. That was all they covered. The rest of her long, tanned legs were exposed. Her blonde hair was loose and disheveled, and although she had tracks of tears on her pretty face, she was still the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. God help me.
I knew at that moment what was happening to me, although I wasn’t really ready to fully admit it. I would do anything to make sure this woman was okay. Anything. I suddenly knew that I would die protecting her. I felt that strongly about her, and that wasn’t just physical attraction. I needed her to be okay. I was falling for her, right or wrong.