Protecting Heather

This is a work of fantasy and fiction. The author does not condone any sexual activity among persons under legal age in real life.

Janice entered the bar a little after eight o’clock, feeling ragged and beat from a tough day on the street.  Another abusive boyfriend, another couple in jail, and another kid shuffled off to some grey, uncaring foster home.

The bar stools were already manned for some local ballgame that was playing, and the usual bullshit was flying.  Janice had only just started scanning the room for some place to get off her feet.  Any place would do.

Suddenly from behind her came a familiar voice.

“Janice!?  Oh my gawd, it’s been months!  Get over here, you look like you could use one, and I got a line of shots right here just asking for you,” said a brash, brassy voice from the booths behind her.

Turning, Janice broke into a smile.  “Stephanie!  Long time, baby.  Bump over, Sherry, I’m coming over.”

Stephanie beamed up at her as her friend Sherry made room.  Stephie was all done up in her big hair, huge bracelets, bangle-laden necklace, and excessive eyeliner. Her friend Sherry was a diminutive, mousy gal who Janice knew somewhat from high school.  She was maybe the only girl from her class who Janice overtopped back then, and, probably still did.  There was something about Sherry, something she did as she carried herself, that made her look smaller than she was.

Taking a seat, Janice let out her breath in a sigh of relief. “Jeeze, my feet are killing me.  I tell you, this city doesn’t get any smaller.”

“I’ll bet,” Stephanie replied. “I read the papers. The shit’s hitting the fan in your department.  You’s guys… I don’t get how you can do what you do, every day.  I mean… Shit, girl, I knew you were tough in school when you beat up Bobby Gennaro for calling you a bitch.  But seriously, I never knew you were Family Services tough.”

“Geez, Stephie… Thanks for that.  I needed it.  Here I thought we’d lost all respect out there.  I fight for every victory we get with these kids.” A tear of frustration leaked by, but she brushed it aside and downed one of the shots.  

Kamakazi shots?  What the hell… Who deserves it more after today.

Janice continued, “But… I’ve got an ace card that I can play sometimes. I’ve got a friend who I’ve won over to my side, and sometimes he helps me out with a few dollars or even occasionally with a nudge of influence.  But… it’s nice to know that some folks can see we’re out there fighting every day.”

“So, you got a benefactor?  Some rich guy maybe?  Any other benefits in the arrangement?” Stephanie hinted lewdly, touching the corner of her lip with her pinky.

Janice blushed.  “No, nothing like that.”  

“Ahhhh!  But you wish there was, don’t you!  No?  Nothing?”

“Yeah, pretty sure, nothing.”  Janice laughed, finally able to flag down a waitress. “Long Island Iced Tea for me.  And… you gals?” as she turned back to the other two.

“Another set of shots for us, on my tab.” Stephanie shouted above the jukebox.

While Stephanie was interrogating the waitress over an order of appetizers, Sherry leaned over and said “No sense mooning over some guy. You’ll find someone, I know you will.  You always were strong like that.”

“Thanks, Sherry,” Janice gave her an uneasy smile.  

“So, back to your love life, Jan.  Guess who called me, oh… I guess it was like a week ago or so now.  You remember my older brother, Nick?”

“Yeah, sure.  I always thought he was kinda cute back then.”

“Yuck!  He is my annoying brother after all.  But, anyway, so he calls me up out of the blue, and you’ll never guess… he starts asking after you.”

“Me?  Huh… well, high school crushes aside, I wonder what…”

Suddenly, through her fatigue and the first vestiges of the kamikaze making its way into her system, an ice cold knife of fear ran through her. She could feel the pinpricks of sweat break out all across her body.

Stephanie ploughed on unheeding.  “Yeah, after all these years, who knew?  He’s so dense sometimes though, maybe it just took all these years to come around to looking your way.  So maybe I should see if I can play yenta for you two, huh?  Janice?  Hey, hon, you ok? You look like… worse than you walked in!”

It can’t be. Can it?  Is Nick onto me?  And if he is, does T-Bone know? Oh my God, if he knows anything, does he know about where Heather is now?

“Steph, I really don’t feel so good.  I think I’m going to head home.” Janice said, then forestalled the inevitable helpful offer to walk her home. “I’ll be fine… I just… shit… it’s been such a bad day, and I guess I should have just packed it in and headed home.”

“You sure, babe?” Stephanie had already half risen from the booth seat.

“Yeah, I just gotta get out of this noise all of a sudden.”

“Well, Ok, hon, if you insist.  Call me tomorrow though. We should get together for lunch maybe.”

“Absolutely.  I’ll call you.”  Janice backed away, and bumped right into a burly guy, ricocheting off him and stumbled towards the door, her mind numb. She felt as sick as she looked.

She hit the cool night air which almost completely failed to alleviate her panic.

She reached into her pocket and thumbed through her contacts.   Finding the right one, she dialed.  And waited.  And waited.  No answer.  

Oh, my God.  What am I gonna do?

Nick waited, watching the house, and alternately the sky.  Occasionally a wind would set the nearby pines rocking, making a grand whispering sound high up, while the breeze itself seemed barely to reach down to the forest floor where he sat sweating in the coming heat of summer.  A profound silence settled all around him. In the absence of the noises of the streets he felt alien here, uneasy.  

Across the clearing, nothing moved.  He had worked his way around the perimeter of the clearing around the house, until the back deck was in view. As he went around, he stared deep into the woods in all directions, looking for any close by, or even, visible neighbors.

There’s no other houses in any direction for as far as I can see.  This has got to be the place.  

At one point, he thought he spied the shape of a girl through the bay windows across the way, but before he could focus his eyes on the spot it was gone.  He began to wonder if it had been his imagination all along.  

When the sun reached high into the sky and his watch showed that it was noon, he finally gathered enough courage to start walking towards the house.  He reached behind his back, hand on the grips of his gun at the small of his back.   

He walked slowly and quietly around the deck to the back doors, and eased his way in.  He could see a cutting board was out, breadcrumbs on it.  Lunch had been served, he guessed.  Looking around the corner, he spied the living room… empty.

Moving down the hallway, he checked the first bedroom.  A small bed, all made up and unused, and otherwise looking empty.  

Guest bedroom. He guessed, correctly.  He continued on.  

A floorboard creaked beneath him, and he slowed up, listened, and heard a TV  playing low.  It came from the double doorway of what must be the master bedroom suite.  

Peering around the corner, he saw the profile of a man idly flipping channels on the television.  

What the fuck is that on his face?  Is that a… mask?  

Oliver saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and before he could even look in that direction he felt that something was very wrong.  The shape in the door was all wrong.

He looked up, across the room, and into the barrel of an automatic pistol.  The man behind it looked the essence of serious as he stepped inside the door and to one side, looking quickly behind to ensure no one was approaching from where he couldn’t see.  

The room seemed to hold its breath for a span of heartbeats as each man sized the other.  The intruder waited a second, maybe expecting some kind of reaction.  Sitting on the edge of the bed, Oliver felt icy calm extend down his spine and out through his body.  He would not give this intruder the satisfaction of a reaction. Finally, the stranger spoke.

“Where is she?” Nick asked, straight out.  He had no patience for playing around.  

Oliver felt a stab of competing emotions.  Hate, fear, and self recrimination vied for first place.  You arrogant ass… You said you would protect her!  Somehow, he managed to play it cool, though he could feel the pinpricks of sweat painfully across his body. “She, whom?” he said, playing up some of his acquired British accent.

For a moment, Nick actually felt foolish. “I know she’s here.” He bluffed.  And there it was.  For just a moment, he saw Oliver’s eyes flick to the side, and he knew that there was a ‘she’ that he was worried about.  Maybe… maybe she was here!

The two were so intent on this brief but intense exchange that neither heard the soft barefoot padding come down the carpeted hall.  Heather walked directly into the room wearing only her collar and, loosely, a robe.  Seeing Oliver’s expression, she stopped short just inside the doorway to the bedroom, and following his gaze she turned quickly towards Nick.  Her robe fell open as she stared in shock, uncomprehending.

Nick saw her, and at first he didn’t recognize Heather.  His thoughts were a jumble.

Is that?  No… whoa… His eyes were drawn to the curves of soft, rounded breasts.  A… leather collar?

“Heather?”

At that moment, Nick was hit with the full force of Oliver’s desperate lunge.

Oliver screamed, a primal animal sound as he ploughed into Nick, intent on smashing him into the wall, and preferably through it if possible.  The two struggled frantically for a moment.  

With an over-loud CRACK, the gun went off, a shocking noise that made everyone jump with ringing ears.  Heather screamed and fell to the floor. Oliver brought a bruising blow down onto Nick’s gun hand, and the gun was knocked loose, skittering across the floor as the two continued to grapple.

Nick was quickly overwhelmed by Oliver, the pure rage pouring off of his opponent taking him completely by surprise.  He was used to people folding up when on the other end of a gun! Several hard blows rained down on him, one connecting with his jaw in a way that made his knees feel weak.

The two broke apart, each looking the other over, panting and gasping.  Oliver leaned back against the bed, Nick looking to advance but feeling unsteady yet, when he spotted his gun.  It was in Heather’s hands.  And it was pointing at him.

“Heather, give me the gun, and I’ll get you out of here.”  Nick held a shaking hand towards her, and she shrank away, stepped one step closer to Oliver.

She looked back at Nick, as if really seeing him for the first time, the adrenaline still coursing hard through her head. “Nick?” She asked with a quality of unreality.

“Baby, give me the gun and I’ll get you away from this masked freak.  What the fuck!?  He put a collar on you? What the…” Nick spluttered

“Heather,” Oliver said quietly, calmly, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Give me the gun.”

She looked at him, as if awaking from a dream.  

Without hesitation, Heather took the additional step to Oliver’s side and handed the gun over to him. Feeling dizzy from the blow, Nick’s knees unlocked, and he slid slowly down the front of the tall dresser he’d been leaning up against.  Oliver took the gun, took one look at Nick, and quickly sighted down its barrel at him.  Nick closed his eyes, not wanting to see what happened next.  

“NO!!!” Heather cried out, and threw herself between Oliver and Nick.  Oliver stayed his hand.  Now it was his turn to be puzzled.  The hot pain in his side from the blows of the struggle began to make its way into his awareness as he leaned against the headboard for support.

“Heather, move out of the way.”

“No, I… I can’t.  He helped us!  I can’t.”  She started to cry.

“What do you mean?” Oliver stared hard at Nick, then at Heather, back to Nick, keeping his eye on him.

“When times were bad, Nick would stop by.  He brought us stuff, or gave Mom money for food.  He brought me a Christmas present once. One time he got our electricity turned back on when it was cold.”

“Heather, step away.  Now!” Oliver ordered without looking away from Nick.

Reluctantly, her rebellion folded, and she sank to her knees in tears.  To Nick he said, “You helped them?”

Around an already swelling cheek, Nick managed to reply.  “Yeah. What’s it to you?”  

“Why?”

Nick wiped blood off his nose.  This wasn’t at all what he’d had in mind for today.  Maybe, just maybe, if I can keep this guy talking, I’ll get my chance.

“Cause Amy needed it. That bastard Terrance, he treated her like shit.”

There’s something in his tone… something there.  Maybe… too much anger. Oliver thought, watching him.  He took a wild guess. “You loved her.”

Nick’s eyes widened.

Oliver forged ahead.  “So why’d you come here then, to take Heather back.  To hand her over to T-Bone? ”

The contained rage in Nick’s eyes registered for only a second, a flick, before being caged up again. But it was enough.

“No…” Oliver mused, “… not to take her back just to give her over to him.  Then what… love?  Maybe. But what kind of love?”

The first one to speak looses, thought Oliver.

He waited then… Silence filled the room, oppressive, demanding to be filled, demanding answers.  

“I came here to take Heather because…” Nick struggled with the words.  Words he never thought he’d say, let alone to the man he was faced with.  “Because she’s my daughter!”  Nick spat out defiantly.

Heather gasped loudly, her hand over her mouth in shock. She sat back on her heels in a daze.

“So that’s why…” Heather spoke, softly, her eyes unfocused.  Remembering.  “The time you came over Christmas day and gave me a present. I remember that. I was so little, and we had nothing. And my birthday when I was eight.”

Nick swore under his breath. Heather stared at him, her eyes begging for something, anything, to hold onto. Finally, he realized…

All the lies and the secrets, they’re over now.  I own Amy this much.

“Heather, your mom and I, we…   Ah, shit!  Where to start?  ‘T’ found her when she was young.  He worked her over, put her out to earn.  But there was something about her back then.  Even though T claimed her for his own, back in those days, your ma… well… she had eyes for me.  And what a knockout she was!  But when she turned those eyes on me, it was all over.  Problem was, T was an up and comer. He was in favor, marked for higher stuff, and I had no one pulling for me.  I was nothing.   There was no way I could cross him and take your mom off his arm.”

Nick sat back against the dresser, all the fight running out of him. “So we snuck around sometimes.  She was always careful with doing things safe back then too, except with me.  I think she wanted a kid with me so I’d stand up against T.  And I guess she did, but I…. I wouldn’t do it. I couldn’t!  

“So your mom suffered. You suffered too, ‘cause I couldn’t cross that line. I helped when I could, but she was T’s girl.  I thought he’d get bored and let her go, but I found out… T never lets anything go.  Ever. If he knew about me and your mom, I wouldn’t have been around to help anymore.”

Oliver lowered the handgun; let it rest in his hand on the bed. “So how did things go so wrong?”

Nick looked at Oliver, maybe for the first time, and finally resolved to get out with the whole story.

“I’m sorry about that, Heather.  More than you’ll know.  Your mom, she had… a hard time of things.  She wasn’t thinking straight. I don’t know what happened with the delivery that went so wrong, but I was scrambling to get her some... ‘product’…  to maybe give back to T so it would look like she found it or got it back.  But I think she was just tired, and she gave up.  I’m sorry, but it’s like that.  I had the stuff too, but she gave up first.  And then you were gone.”  Nick’s eyes lit up, his thoughts returning to the present.

“So how about that… Fucker… what are you doing with her in a collar and a robe? You think you can hold a gun on me forever? Or you gonna kill me?  Cause you’re gonna have to kill me right now if you…”

Heather’s mind was a whirlwind, but suddenly she felt a surge of strength.  With a power she never knew she possessed, Heather stood up, squared her shoulders, and faced him.  That other voice that whispered to her so often before, now shouted out in her mind, the words rolling right off her tongue.

“Nick, I love him.  I love Oliver! He found me and took me in.  He protected me from that animal.  He treated me right and kept up my schooling.  He fed me and clothed me and held me when I cried over my mom for days.  And I fell in love with him. I’m going with him, wherever he goes.  You might be my father, but I never had a dad.  If you ever want to think of yourself as a father to me, you can do it by leaving now.”  She looked at him with satisfaction.

She softened her tone and added, “But before you go, I might want your number.  Because one day, maybe soon, I’ll be on the other end of that phone.”  Her eyes met his, and he recognized his strength in her.  Jesus, she even looks a little like my kid sister, too, when she’s got her back up. If she’s inherited any part of what my sister has, look out Masked Man, whoever you are.

Oliver slumped a little, looked at the gun in his hand, and pushed it forward a little ways across the bed before leaning back again.

“I’m not going to shoot you, or anyone else.  You won. Heather, I’m afraid I can’t protect you now.” He slurred.

She looked at him, puzzled.  “What?  Oliver?  Honey!?”  

As Oliver slowly slid down the headboard and fell onto his side, their eyes never left each other, until with one slow, lazy blink, his eyes rolled back and he went slack.

Behind him, the deeply dark and large red stains that had been soaking into the clean white sheets were now plainly visible.

Oliver had time for one more thought. One plea.  Keep her safe.

He dimly heard Heather screaming from across a yawning distance.  “NO!  Oh God!   Oliver!??   OLIVER! Oh, no!  Nick, it won’t stop! Help me! ...”