Sweep Me Off My Feet

“Where the hell is my son?” he asked, the veins on his temple showing.

She could not tell if it was from years of drug abuse or if it was simply from his current mood.

“So, now you are suddenly interested?” she asked angrily. “Where have you been since I told you I was pregnant? What exactly do you think has been happening for half a decade?”

He moved closer and she took another step back, feeling the car behind her. She had nowhere else to go.

“Is that rich white boy playing daddy with my son?”

His hands were on either side of the car, making sure she could not escape. She could feel her heart beating harder and faster as he kept on shouting at her. His questions suddenly became white noise. Clearly, Deshawn was still the violent, abusive man he had always been and as she stood there, she was increasingly aware of the imminent danger she was in. A tear rolled down her cheek as she tried pushing past him, but he was too strong for her. He barely moved and that was when she decided to throw all caution to the wind. She kneed him in the groin and he staggered in pain, giving her just enough time to run to the driver’s side. She opened the door, but before she could get in, she felt herself being pulled back and slammed against the side of the car by an angry Deshawn. She closed her eyes tightly when she saw him raising his hand and waited for the pending blow that was coming down. The world seemed to slow down because that blow never really landed. She opened her eyes when she heard a thud. She could have sworn that it was her body hitting the ground if she hadn’t seen Deshawn landing on the hood of the car parked next to hers. There was a man in blue jeans and a t-shirt giving Deshawn a taste of his own medicine, dragging him like he weighed nothing. She stood there, unable to move, as she watched the man punch Deshawn’s face so hard that he drew blood and he did not stop there. He punched him in the ribs with such precision that made Angela think that he must have had some martial arts knowledge. He only stopped when Deshawn, thrown to the ground, tried getting up and failed. The man looked at Angela and then looked at Deshawn again.

“This is brutality…” Deshawn struggled to say.

“Then call the police. I will be too happy to testify to your harassing Angela here.”

Angela shook her head.

“What… how do you know my name?” she asked as she began to slowly back up.

The man held his hands up.

“Angela, my name is Jackson James. I met you at Rehab that first night you met Michael, remember?” he asked, and she shook her head. “It’s okay… I’m Michael’s friend… best friend. He must have told you about me.”

She raised an eyebrow over the other.

“J.J.?” she asked, and he nodded.

“It’s okay… just go home. I’ll follow in my car, all right?” he asked, and she looked at Deshawn who was still writhing in pain. “Angela, hey!” He snapped his fingers turning her attention from Deshawn. “I need you to get in the car and drive home. Go straight home, okay? Don’t make any detours.”

She nodded reluctantly.

“And be careful. Don’t speed,” he said again as he opened the door for her. “I’ll be right behind you in my car. The blue Prius over there.” He pointed at his car parked across the lot from where her car was.

She nodded and got in the car. Her hands were shaking as she secured her seatbelt.

“Everything is fine.” Jackson looked at Deshawn. “I fractured a rib or two. There is no way he is following without bleeding into his lungs.”

She nodded and started the engine before she began backing out of the lot.

“Hey, buddy, I am a doctor so trust me when I tell you that you should probably call an ambulance before you think of getting up,” she heard Jackson tell Deshawn before he walked over to his car.

She was breathing heavily as she drove home. It was hard for her not to simply step on the gas pedal and run every red light on the way. She kept on looking at the rearview mirror to make sure Jackson’s blue Prius was still following closely. The drive back from the grocery store felt snail-like. When she finally got to the building parking lot, she could not bring herself to switch off the engine, let alone get out of the car. She just sat there, waiting to see if Jackson was still there or if she would just drive out of the building and just go somewhere else… anywhere else. She could feel her grip loosening on the steering wheel as her palms became sweatier with every passing second. She gasped when Jackson knocked softly on her window.

“It’s all right… it’s just me,” he said in a soft voice.

She switched off the engine and got out of the car, her heart still racing. She looked around before she went to her trunk and took two grocery bags before Jackson walked over to where she was and grabbed the other bags before following her to the elevator. She was quiet as they rode up to the penthouse. She was surprised at how she had gone from being scared to simply being numb.

“Why don’t you sit down? I will make you some tea,” Jackson said when they got to the penthouse. Angela nodded and walked to the couch. She pulled the throw blanket over her legs as Jackson prepared the tea, thinking back to the grocery parking lot. She wondered what would have happened if she had gone to the store with Brandon. Deshawn must have had a plan. He would have probably taken him… and maybe even demand a ransom.

“I hope you like chamomile,” he said as he walked to the living room holding a cup of steaming tea.

“Thanks.” Angela tried to force a smile as she reached for the tea.