I was sitting at my ‘desk,’ a recliner in the living room, doing my routine digging for investment opportunities. It had been eight days since the shooting, and life was starting to settle into routine. The police had released Rock, unable to hold him because of lack of evidence for the assault on Carolyn, and the incident with Bláithín didn’t rise to the level of pulling time. Even though he was back on the streets, Carolyn, Bláithín, and I had appeared before the judge and gotten the temporary civil no-contact order made permanent. Rock hadn’t bothered to show, so the procedure had been painless and seemed to be doing the job. Neither Carolyn nor I had seen Rock or a Raven.

Carolyn was still sharing my bed, but we were talking about her returning to her apartment. I didn’t want her to go for selfish reasons, and she didn’t seem to want to go either, but she was still living out of her suitcase like a guest.

I could understand her reluctance in moving in with me. We’d known each other less than two months, awfully quick to be moving in together. The thing was, we were so damned comfortable with each other. I felt like we’d been together for two years, not two months. I was definitely beginning to develop feelings for her, and I suspected she was experiencing the same for me.

It was scary for me, and her as well, how fast our relationship was moving. I couldn’t speak for her, but my concern was the feelings that were developing between us were the result of our ‘us against the Ravens’ siege mentality. Our love-making had always been good, but in the last week it had become explosive. The first night we made love after the shooting, the night we’d gone to bed early, we’d woken up about two and absolutely destroyed the bed. By the time we’d finished, the sheets were in a tangled wad in the middle of the bed, and we were damp with sweat as we gasped and panted from our exertions. I’d never had a more intense sexual experience, and if the claw marks on my back were any indication, Carolyn may not have either.

I didn’t want her out of my life, but slowing down might be a good idea in order to give our growing attraction a chance to mature and ripen. Now that I’d broken the ice on her spending the night, we didn’t have to wait until the weekend and sneak around like illicit lovers. She could come here anytime she wanted.

Her moving back into her own place was more of a mental and emotional distancing. Now we were living like we were married. I was enjoying the hell out of it, but I was mature enough to know a relationship based on sex wouldn’t last. I thought we had more than that, but we needed time to be sure.

I shook my head, forcing the thoughts of Carolyn away. She was taking up more and more of my emotional and mental bandwidth. She’d caught and passed work as a priority, and was now sitting comfortably in second place, behind only Bailey.

My phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number. “Thomas Gregg.”

“Mr. Gregg. This is Derrick Harbour.” The name ticked a memory, but I couldn’t latch onto where I knew it. “I spoke to you about a month ago about investing in my idea of having a site for producers of erotic art?”

The name clicked. “Ah, yes! Derrick. How are you?”

“I’m fine, Mr. Gregg. I did as you suggested and spoke to a couple of companies about your concerns. I underestimated the problem, but I think Emily and I have a working solution. You asked me to call you first when we worked out how to comply with all the various states’ laws.”

“Yes, I remember. What did you find out?”

I spent the next forty minutes on the phone as Derrick walked me through their ideas. Basically, they were going to brute force it. Each panel would be tagged with some basic criteria by the artist. Sodomy, furry, forced, futanari, and a bunch of others. The tags would form the basis for organizing the images and video for searches, but it would also be used to take down items by location. If furry porn was deemed illegal in, say, Arizona, and sodomy in North Carolina, then the images in those categories could be taken down in only those locations, and further material would be banned from those locations as well. The rest of the artist’s work would remain, and the artist could submit alternate images to replace the illegal panel, or panels, in the various states if they desired. The site was going to run, mostly, on the honor system, but artists that continually tried to manipulate the tagging system to bypass the blocking would have all their artwork permanently banned, for the good of the site and the other artists. It was a cumbersome system, but I knew there was no elegant solution.

“But all images would be allowed until a take-down order occurs?” I asked.

“Yeah. We’ll police the site to make sure things that will draw attention to us and are illegal everywhere, things like kiddie porn, never go up, but otherwise, we’re going to assume it’s legal everywhere and the artists are tagging their images honestly. I spoke to a couple of different lawyers about this, and they both agreed that nobody would be able to agree on what constituted a violation until it happened. It’s that ‘I can’t define porn, but I know it when I see it’ mentality. This is a mess, but the important thing is, even if we get a takedown order, we’ll handle it case by case and not simply wipe all artists from the site.”

I thought about it a moment. “Thank you for doing this. I’m impressed by the thought and care you’ve put into it, but I need to think about it for a few days before I make a decision.”

“I answered your concerns?” Derrick pressed.

“Yes. I’ve got your cost and income analysis. I want to look over your numbers one more time and do a little more research.”

“I understand, but Emily and I are going to continue to search for funding.”

“And rightly so. I don’t expect you to do nothing while you wait on my answer. I’ll be in touch early next week to give you an answer or to let you know where I’m at in the process.”

“Thank you, Mr. Gregg. You seem to get what we’re trying to do here, and I hope we can do business.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

I hung up and drummed my fingers against my lap desk. My gut was telling me the Harbours were on to something, but I was still concerned they were overestimating the number of artists that would flock to their site, and therefore, the amount of operating revenue they were going to have. I thought about it, trying to figure out a way to put my finger on the pulse of the erotic art market.

I was still working on the problem when Bailey came bounding into the room from school. “I’m home!” he cried like he was announcing himself to a stadium of adoring fans.

“So I see,” I deadpanned. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yep! When are we going back to the park? Riding in the neighborhood is boring.”

Since the shooting, he and I had confined our running and cycling to the neighborhood for safety. That, and my car was still in the shop having bullet holes repaired.

“How about when I get my car back?”

“Can’t you put the bike rack on top of the car you have?”

“Not my car.”

He heaved a huge sigh. “Okay. How much longer?”

I smiled. When you were ten, a week seemed like a year. “As soon as the parts they’re waiting on come in. It’s supposed to be next week sometime.”

Getting the windows and sheet metal repaired had been fairly quick and painless. Getting some of the interior pieces replaced, however, was taking longer because they weren’t readily available. I set my computer aside.

“Let me change and we’ll go,” I said as I stood.

I’d clocked off a five-mile route, using the car’s odometer, and as I ran, Bailey looped and circled, jumping his bike off curbs and storm drains. He was right. Running in the neighborhood, having to watch for traffic, and pausing to cross streets was boring. Elwood Creek was a huge development of over two thousand homes, almost a small town in itself, and it had the traffic to prove it.

The weather was warming up, and I was dripping by the time I’d run the loop twice and we returned home. One nice thing about running in the neighborhood was being able to hop right in the shower. Shower complete, I was staring into my pantry, deciding what to cook for dinner, when my phone rang.

“Hey!”

“Thom,” Carolyn said, her voice quivering.

“Carolyn? What’s wrong?”

She sniffed. “Can you come get me?”

My blood ran cold. “Where are you?”

“My apartment. I’m hurt, and they slashed the tires on my car.”

“I’m on my way! Bláithín!” I yelled as I hung up. “Carolyn’s hurt! I’m going to get her!” I grabbed my keys and rushed to my car, Bailey and Bláithín watching me with wide eyes. “Don’t open the door for anybody!” I added as I slammed the door behind me.

The S60 loaner was a base model. It was a nice car, but it was slow compared to my car. I wrung its neck in my rush to get to Carolyn, using the throttle like an on-off switch, barely slowing at stop signs, jumping stop lights when I could, and darting and weaving through traffic. I floored the car as I turned into her apartment’s parking lot, desperate to reach her, my imagination running away with me. I ground to a stop in front of her building, blocking in cars but not caring. She wasn’t in sight and I ran up the steps, taking them two at a time.

“Carolyn?” I shouted as I hammered on her door. “It’s Thom!”

I was about to pound again, getting ready to kick the fucking door in, when it opened. Carolyn was stood in the threshold, her eyes fearful. She’d obviously been handled roughly, but she wasn’t as busted up as I’d feared. One side of her face was red, her bottom lip was swollen and split, and there was a bit of dried blood crusted around her nose. Her face twisted as she threw herself into my arms and began to sob.

“What happened?” I asked as I held her. We were still standing in the door, but I didn’t care.

She gathered herself. “I came home to get some more clothes. I was just going to make a quick stop. Two guys were waiting inside my apartment. They were wearing masks. They told me they wanted the money.”

I knew if I gave them what they wanted, there’d be no end of it, but this shit had to stop.

“I tried to run, to yell for help, but they knocked me down and started slapping me around.”

“Are you hurt…injured?”

“I’ve been worse,” she murmured, her arms still around me.

“Have you called the cops?”

“No.”

“Why not?” I cried.

She sniffed and stepped back, wiping her eyes with her hands. “And tell them what? Neither of them was Rock, and they weren’t wearing their colors. I know it was the Ravens, but I can’t prove it. This is what they do. They send different people, but everyone will have an alibi.”

“Those fucks have crossed the line,” I growled.

“I just want to go home.”

Her use of ‘home’ didn’t escape my notice. I led her down the steps, my eyes scanning as I watched for trouble. I put her in the car and inspected the automobile. All four tires had long slits in the sidewalls. I pursed my lips as I returned to my car. I’d taken the insurance when I rented the car, so it was the rental company’s problem. I’d call them later and have them come get it.

I drove us home. I wanted to talk to her about what had happened, but she wouldn’t engage with me and stared out her window, her hand at her lips. When we stepped into the kitchen, Bláithín was at the stove. She looked around, her eyes sad.

“I’m making stew,” she said softly, rapping the wooden spoon on the side of the pot.

Bailey appeared and stopped at the edge of the room, looking at Carolyn with big eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly. She nodded, her mouth pulling down. He walked to her and wrapped her in a hug, the first time he’d done something like that. “I’m glad.”

She whimpered as two tears slowly crawled down her cheeks, and she put her hand on his head to hold him. Her lips looked painful, and her cheek was beginning to bruise. She sniffed, trying to get control of herself.

“Are you up to eating something?” I asked.

“Yeah, I think.”

Her words were beginning to slur from the swelling. I ground my teeth. If the cops wouldn’t do anything, I would. I was going to rip Rock’s fucking nuts off and feed them to him.

Carolyn showered as Bláithín finished the stew. When she finished, I was waiting with a towel to dry her.

“Does that hurt,” I asked, touching a red place on her back that was beginning to darken into a bruise.

“A little. I think that’s where I fell against the couch.” I continued to dry her but didn’t see any more marks. “Hold me,” she begged as I finished.

She was so warm, even more so than normal since she’d just stepped out of the shower. I held her for a long time, but I would hold her longer still. I’d hold her until I could figure out how to take away her pain. Her body would heal, but I was afraid the hurt went much deeper than her flesh.

“Are you okay?”

“My face hurts.”

“I don’t mean that. I mean are you mentally, emotionally, okay?”

She nodded against my chest. “I just need you to hold me.”

I stroked her still wet hair. “After dinner, I want to talk to Rock.”

She stepped back and looked at me. “Why?”

“Because this shit is going to stop, and it’s going to stop now.”

“You don’t want to do that.”

“No, I don’t, but if the cops can’t, or won’t, do anything to protect you, I will. I’m going to make it clear to him he’s fucking with the wrong guy.”

“You don’t know him, Thom. He’ll see that as a challenge and a threat.”

“Good, because it is.” She shook her head. “Yes,” I said firmly. “I’m going to look this asshole in the eyes so he can see I’m serious.”

“Thom, no. You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

“Maybe, but that’s never stopped me before.”

Dinner was tense, with Carolyn unable to meet our eyes. I knew she was worrying about what I wanted to do, but I didn’t care. The Ravens weren’t hurting Carolyn again. I’d do what it took, spend what it took, to break them so they could never hurt her again.

After dinner I dragged her into the bedroom. “Give me his number.”

“Thom, no. You’re putting Bailey at risk.”

“He’s already at risk. If they’re willing to come at you, what’s to prevent them from doing the same with Bláithín or Bailey? Nothing. Give me his number. I’m going to try to stop this before it goes any further.” She stared at me a long time, but I said nothing, letting the silence between us grow.

“704,” she began as I typed the number into my phone.

I pressed send and put the phone on speaker. “Rock! Go!”

“Scott,” I said, intentionally avoiding his road name, as Carolyn called it. “This is Thomas Gregg.”

“Ah, the pussy speaks. I was wondering when I’d hear from you.”

“It seems to me that pussies are men who attack women.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t attacked anyone. There’s a restraining order against us, in case you didn’t know.”

“That, and because you’re too big of a chicken shit to do your own dirty work. You hide behind people and—”

“You better watch your fucking mouth, asshole, before it makes promises your ass can’t back up.”

“Let me make you a promise I can back up. This is it. This is the line in the sand. You cross it, and I’ll fuck you so hard your asshole will look like the New Holland Tunnel.”

“You listen to me, you mother—”

“No, you listen to me,” I interrupted. “You do not want to fuck with me.”

“Big threats for a pussy that drives a Volvo. You know how to make it stop.”

“Yeah, I know how to make it stop, and you won’t like my methods.”

“Fuck you, you pussy. You don’t have the balls to—”

“Try me.”

“Yeah, right. You’d piss your pants if—”

“Let’s meet. Just you and me. I’ll show you what I’ve got the balls for. Saturday, Carolina Diner, two o’clock.”

“Fuck you.”

“Now who doesn’t have the balls?” I sneered.

A moment of silence. “Fine. I’ll be there.”

“Leave your goons at home…unless you think you need them for protection.”

He hung up without a reply. Carolyn was staring at me. “You have no idea what you’ve just done.”

“Bullies only respect strength. I’m not afraid of this asshole.”

“You should be.”

“No. He should be afraid of me.”

She pursed her lips. “I’m going with you. You don’t know them like I do.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“You need me!”

“No. I want you here, where it’s safe.”

“No! I’m going. You need me, and if you do manage to back him down, I want to be there to see it.”

“We have two days to talk about it,” I said, wanting to stop the argument. She wasn’t going and that was final.

A smile tugged at her lips. It wasn’t pretty with the swelling. “Two days for you to accept the inevitable.”