Overcoming Fear (Growing Pains #2) (46 page)

His whole body flexed and his eyes flashed
again. He coiled.

“Let’s humor him,” Sean said smoothly.
“Let’s all go outside and see what there is to see.” Sean gave her
a squeeze of encouragement.

Krista knew Sean was strong, and for all she
knew he could fight, but Jim was the king of the wrong side of the
tracks. He was the top of the heap, and the way he got there was
fighting and mayhem. In all the time Krista had known him, Jim had
never lost a fight. Not even against more than one person—his
record was bringing down five.

Krista sighed, a tear leaking out. What
other choice did she have? They would have to bodily push Jim out
of the house to close the door, and if they did manage Jim would
just wait until Krista was alone again. Jim was no dummy, and
Krista didn’t have a bodyguard. Sean couldn’t be present all the
time, nor would she want him to have to. She needed the cops.

She threw a glance toward the kitchen,
finding Ben waiting eagerly with a terrified expression and a sign
that said, “Called cops. On Way.”

On the way
was subjective in San Francisco. Even with a
light workload, like in the Sunset, they could take forever dodging
traffic and pedestrians. Krista had to stall, and Jim had to speed
things up. It all came down to the resistance in the
middle.

Sean.

“Fine,” Krista said, another tear dripping
down her face. It was all about to come to a head.

Jim nodded and led the way, looking back
twice to make sure they were following. They got to his car, which
was across the street. It was a shiny, black Mercedes only a couple
years old.

“Where did you get this?” Krista asked
despite herself. Jim wasn’t ever one to have much money.

“Thinking of switching up for a real man?”
Jim said with an over-inflated ego.

“Whatever. What do you have that’s
mine?”

On the sidewalk by his car, Jim turned back
to them. He planted his feet and looked Krista square in the
face.

“What do I have that’s yours?” He turned his
eyes to Sean. Suddenly the air compressed around them. “Better ask:
What does this fool have that’s mine?”

Sean patiently guided Krista behind his
back, knowing what was about to happen, knowing that without him to
interfere, Jim would make a grab for her and stuff her into his car
and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stop him.

“
Look, bro, Krista has
already acknowledged that she is happy here without you. It doesn’t
matter who her choice is, so long as it’s not you. Why don’t you
just head out?” Sean reasoned.

Jim took a step toward
Sean, thick arms poised and bowing slightly so he could look
directly into Sean’s face. “Krista doesn’t know what she wants.
Never did. She needs a man to show her what she
needs
.”

The air seemed to crackle with electricity.
The hairs on the back of Krista’s neck and arms stood on end. It
took her a second to identify the change. It was Sean.

He was still calm, but now he stood balanced
on both feet, ready for action. The greatest change, however, was
in his eyes. Krista could just barely make them out from where she
stood behind his protective frame; like the sea before a storm, all
seemed calm, but a great disaster loomed on the horizon, hinted at
with the torrid gleam and deadly depth. Anger was seething just
below the surface; a wildness she had never seen in him before was
ready to be unleashed.

Ben stood in the middle of the street, phone
clutched in his hand, staring at Sean with wide eyes.

“I think it’s time for you to go, Jim,” Sean
said with finality, his ease and polite manner dropped.

Jim answered with a flurry of movement.
Before Krista could react, or even blink, Jim’s fist was traveling
toward Sean’s face. Sean was not so slow, however. He easily moved
out of the way with a slight movement, and threw a punch of his
own. His landed square on Jim’s jaw.

Thus the dance begun. It appeared Sean did
know how to fight. And like everything else he did, he did it
exceptionally well. He moved like a panther, sleek and agile and
full of purpose. If it were any normal man Sean was fighting
against, Sean would’ve won easily. But it wasn’t a normal man. It
was Jim. Jim was colossal—huge and mean and immovable.

Jim threw another punch, which Sean again
dodged, landing another of his own on the side of Jim’s face. Jim,
sensing he was outmatched boxing, threw his body at Sean. Krista
jogged back and to the side quickly, narrowly missed by the two
brawling men.

Sean met the assault and forced him back,
throwing punch after punch into Jim’s hardened cords of muscle,
pushing him away from Krista. He was paying a price. Jim was
landing his own body shots, powering his fist into the sides of
Sean’s body.

Where Jim’s fighting style was raw power,
Sean’s was lithe and polished. Sean probably couldn’t punch as
hard, but he landed his shots better. If Jim got Sean to the
ground, though, the raw power might win out.

“Ben, what do we do?” Krista yelled, looking
for a weapon or some way to help Sean.

Ben was dancing from foot to foot, stepped
closer then further away, watching the fight with fearful eyes.
“Kris, I don’t know how to help—I’m no match for either of them. I
don’t even know how to fight!”

Sean landed another punch to Jim’s
side--kidney perhaps--but took a hard hit to the rib cage. They
were both tiring, but neither planned on giving up. It didn’t seem
to be about Krista or possessions or anything focused anymore. This
was now a fight purely fueled by testosterone, and the winner would
have to beat the loser senseless to get what he wanted.

Stupid
man-code
.

Jim had Sean in a bear hug and was trying to
grapple him to the ground. His muscle was gym muscle, though,
engineered. Sean, on the other hand, was made outdoors, his muscle
moving and straining in harmony, keeping to his feet, using his
free hands to ram his fist into Jim’s head or body, wherever he
could.

Both men were bloody at this point. Tired
and bloody. The fight couldn’t go on much longer. The winner would
be decided in the next fifteen minutes, and the loser would be
unconscious.

It was then that they heard
the sirens—
finally
! The police cars were at the end of the street, cruising
along. Ben jumped into the road to flag the police down, prompting
the unmistakable roar of the engine as the cops realized a fight
was in progress.

Jim rocketed a punch to Sean’s head, having
him staggering back and then blocking another, feinting and
throwing one of his own, hitting Jim just as squarely.

It was still anybody’s fight. They were
well-matched. Krista had no idea Sean could fight like that. It
showed that she really did have a type, and he was dangerous. Sean
might be a nice guy that treated her well now, but once upon a time
he wasn’t so pure.

Another police car sped down the street as a
young cop jumped out of the first car to arrive, mid-twenties,
about six foot, and wound too tight. “Break it up!” he shouted,
throwing a glance down the street for backup.

Krista didn’t blame him.

An ex-Marine-looking guy jumped out of the
second car with a crew cut and chiseled jaw. He was a portly man in
his late forties, probably senior in this partnership. His Taser
was out before he reached his partner or the fighting men.

Sean tried to raise his hands and step away,
showing respect for authority. Jim, on the other hand, used that as
an advantage to hit Sean square in the jaw. Sean was hurled
backwards, his tired body falling and sliding along concrete. Jim
rushed to pounce.

Krista screamed and Ben surged forward, but
before either of them could do anything, ex-marine cop shot two
spears from his Taser, hitting Jim along the side.

Jim shouted and convulsed, tumbling to the
ground in agony, screams of rage echoing down the block.

The young cop ran at Sean, Taser at the
ready, “Get down!”

Sean complied instantly, lowering to the
concrete slowly with his hands out wide.

Krista ran toward him, tears falling freely,
feeling a little sick about the whole thing. “But he was protecting
himself and me, officer! It isn’t his fault!” Krista yelled,
inching forward toward a newly handcuffed Sean.

“It’s okay, Krista,” Sean panted. “Let the
men do their jobs.”

Ben stepped up to Krista, shaking just as
hard as she, scared beyond words.

The ex-Marine cop yelled then, and they all
turned to see him grappling with Jim. The young cop jumped off of
Sean and sprinted to his partner, yelling for backup in the
walkie-talkie-black-shoulder-thing.

It took both of them to wrestle Jim to the
ground, and another blast with the Taser to keep him there while
they cuffed him, panting and blustering with fatigue. Docile Sean
looked like a golden child in comparison.

The cops broke up again, each getting
identification from Sean and Jim. It turned out there was a warrant
out for Jim’s arrest, not that anyone was surprised, for beating a
man senseless in a bar fight. Also, with a little help from Krista
pointing out Jim’s car, which had Seattle plates, the cops were
able to determine the car was stolen.

She knew a car that nice didn’t belong in
the hands of a slacker-asshole like Jim.

Sean checked out flawless, of course,
although he was still left face down and handcuffed on the sidewalk
while backup arrived with flashing lights and sirens. It didn’t
seem to bother him. He was resting and in pain, probably wanting a
pain med and some quiet so he could get some shut eye right there
on the sidewalk.

The half-block was swarmed with men in
uniform holding their belts and looking severe. The heads peeping
out of their houses were still doing so, and everyone walking their
dogs or kids stopped to look on. The reinforcements helped load Jim
up into the police car, kicking and screaming at the cops and
yelling threats at Krista. One thing that struck a chord with her
was Jim screaming that if he ever found Sean with Krista again,
he’d kill Sean. Jim was just crazy enough to do it. Krista did not
want Sean in danger because of her.

The policemen, once Jim was safely in the
car, although still yelling, deliberated with each other on what
happened before backup arrived, and what was left to be done. It
was then the cops, men all, milled and flocked and finally decided
to get an account of “what transpired” from Ben and Krista. Purely
logical, after all—find out what started the ruckus.

“Men are such time wasters when they’re in a
group!” Krista spat, looking at Sean lying on the dirty cement. “A
couple of guys would have a job well done by the time a group of
guys finish talking about what to do first, who has the bigger
penis, and who plans on pulling Alpha dog. Meanwhile, Sean is
laying there!”

“That’s not helping,
Krista,” Ben said quietly as the ex-Marine guy
finally
started walking
over.

“Ma’am,” he started.

She nodded impatiently while Ben rubbed her
back.

“Why don’t you start from the
beginning.”

With a barely suppressed sigh, Krista told
him all about Jim, and what happened when she got home. Next Ben
filled in the gaps, explaining his fear of Jim and then calling
Sean.

Krista found out that when Ben called Sean
asking for advice, Sean was at the door a heartbeat later. He
didn’t know Jim, didn’t know what he was capable of, but he did
know that she needed help, and he wanted to be there to provide it.
The cop nodded to that, making a few notes on his little pad.

When Krista informed the cop, for the second
time, that she had a restraining order against Jim, applied for and
granted in Seattle, the ex-Marine-looking guy looked at her
piercingly for a heartbeat too long, blinked once, then wrote that
down.

He asked, “And how did you know him in
Seattle?”

“He was my ex-boyfriend. Is my ex-boyfriend.
I broke up with him and he tried to come after me.”

“And did he serve time for that infraction?”
the cop asked, looking at her closely.

“Yes.”

The man nodded. “And did you know he was
coming to visit you in San Francisco?”

Krista was positive they had covered this.
“No. I haven’t heard from him since I left Seattle. I didn’t think
he would follow me.”

“No communication with him since you moved
here? Or any of his friends or family that might have relayed your
whereabouts?”

“None. No communication at all. I asked how
he found me and he said Internet and phone book.”

The cop nodded and wrote something else
down. “Have you had a name change in the past?”

“No. I thought two state
lines would end the problem. I didn’t realize he would come after
me.” She was starting to lose her patience. What did it matter? She
had a restraining order. Which he broke. In doing so, he broke the
law. End of discussion. She was sure there was a patrol officer
somewhere in the picture who wouldn’t be thrilled to hear Jim left
town, broke the law a few times, then got picked up by the cops in
San Francisco.
So do your fucking job and
leave Sean alone!

The man looked up at her, his eyes stern and
disbelieving, “But he went after you in Seattle, correct?”

“Yes, right after I broke
up with him. Well, about a month after. I had gotten the
restraining order a day before. I assumed he was pissed with
that--well, he
was
pissed--but I assumed that was all. Seattle is not all that
big. Crossing town is a
little
different than crossing
two states.”
Ben put his hand on her
shoulder to calm her down. She took a big breath and finished
with,
“
I didn’t
realize it would turn into this.”