X-Treme Measure (27 page)

Chapter 2

Deke

Finally. I was at the place I most felt like home. Southern Ink. School was a drag and I’m glad to say I got early release for work. I was repeating my senior year at Lilton High and this year, the kids were even worse than last. Did kids just get dumber or was it just me? I was apprenticing at SoIn and was learning the craft. I loved the atmosphere in here.

I’ve been working here since I turned seventeen. I didn’t get the job by normal standards. I was what this town called, the bad boy. The trouble maker. I’ve been to juvie more times than a person could count on their fingertips. Hence, why I was repeating my senior year. Absent too many days. Until last year. I had been vandalizing this exact shop when the owner, Johnny had caught me red handed with the spray paint in my hand. I had thought no one was in the building. It was three in the morning and I hadn’t seen any lights on up front.

So there I was, spray painting my version of the night sky when I heard, “With a little bit more practice, you could be a great artist.”

The deep, rumbling voice scared the shit out of me and when I was about to make a run for it, he said, “Don’t bother running, son. I know exactly who you are.”

My shoulders slumped, knowing exactly what was going to happen. I was seventeen now. I was most likely going to end up in jail this time. Charged as an adult.

Fuck.

“Turn around and look at me boy.”

I did reluctantly, knowing the guy wasn’t going to let me off the hook. The man before me was massive. Big broad shoulders, tats covering both arms and up his neck. A greying mustache and beard that looked total badass. I couldn’t make out most of his face though. He was hidden deeper into the alley. Like he had been watching me.

“Now, I can either call the cops or tomorrow when you get out of school, you come here and clean up this display. You wanna draw, you can learn how to draw in school. If you don’t come by tomorrow, Mr. Morgan,” Whoa he knew my name? “Then I will call the cops. I’ll have the cleaning supplies you’ll need. Also, I’m sure it’s your paint job over town so maybe you should clean those, as well.”

“Wait. You’re not going to call the cops right now?”

“No. Sometimes, it’s the second chances that change a person. Sometimes not. Time will tell. If you’re here, no cops. If you’re not here, I’ll call them. Simple as that.”

That took me by surprise. Most people just called the cops and I was taken down to the jail house when I was admitted to High Point academy, basically juvie. It was a school for all the trouble makers, truants and petty crimes kids like me. I knew better. Of course I did. But spray painting and getting out of the rickety shack I called a home was worth it if I got caught. Sometimes I did petty shit because High Point Academy, well, you stayed there until your due, and then you got back out. Anywhere was better than home. My father was a drunk and my mother, well, she skipped down when she realized my father wasn’t going to change. Of course though, that left me here, being raised by him. If I was lucky, I was out of the house most of the time. He got nasty when he drank and the only way I lashed out was by doing stupid shit. When I get out of HP, he whelped on me. But the week, sometimes two, was so worth the beating I got. Bruises healed within days. And of course no one called CPS. Why would they? People around here did not interfere with other people's business.

We both needed our outlets. I was his as spray painting was mine.

“I’ll be here.” I said. Knowing I didn’t want to go to jail. God knows what Dad will do. It’s not like he’d bail me out of jail if I went. I’d probably stay there until I was released.

“Good. Get on home. Aren’t your parents worried about ya, boy?”

“Ha.” I shrugged my shoulders and got the other two cans I brought with me. I sure as hell wasn’t going to leave them here. I might need them some other time. I began walking down the alley to get to the nice neighborhood before I got to my side when I heard a heavy sigh behind me.

“Come on, then. I plan on being here the rest of the night. Waiting for a shipment to come in. You can sleep on the couch.”

“Nah, that’s alright.”

“No, sir.”

“No, sir. Thank you though.”

“Are you going to sleep when you get home? Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“Yes, I have school.”

What was this guy getting at? I told him I’d be here tomorrow after school.

“Names Johnny Myers. I own Southern Ink. If the reason why you left is at home then you are welcome to crash here. No judgement. Come on, now.”

I thought about it for a minute and then figured, what the hell? I sure as hell didn’t want to go home. It had been a particularly bad night. He had stumbled upon a photo of him and mom and they had looked happy. Then he saw me, and I knew I looked just like her. And he wanted to crowd me and slap me around. I had rushed to my room, got my backpack and left from the bedroom window. I had stolen a lock and chain for my bedroom and dad never tried breaking down the door.

There had been only so much bullshit I could take from him and then I had to escape that shit.

Johnny had led me in through the backdoor, and made sure he locked up when I followed him into a break room. The couch there wasn’t big enough for me, but at least I could curl up and pass out for a few hours. I went to sit on the couch and somehow, sitting on that couch felt better than anything I’ve ever had the pleasure to sit on. And that was saying a lot. Johnny left the room and was back with a bottled water, a thick blanket and a granola bar.

“Eat and drink if you need it, here a blanket. Get comfortable and rest. I’ll wake you up in time to get going and to school.”

“Why are you doing this? Sir?”

“Because I see something in you boy I hadn’t seen in a long time.”

“What’s that?”

“Maybe someday you’ll figure it out by yourself. Now, get some rest.”

)()(

When I heard those fucktards outside, I had planned on ignoring them. I didn't want to deal with their bullshit but when I heard a female whimper, something about that made me become instantly alert and took off like a jet. There was a girl lying face down in the dirt and although I should have stopped and helped her first, there was no way I was a going to let Geoffrey Romoth and his cretins get away with bullying a girl. That just didn't sit right with me.

I caught up to them easily, grabbing one by the back of the shirt and yanking him backward and to the side until he slammed against a building wall. I didn't have time for him. My goal was Geoffrey. The ring leader. I did the same to the next guy, God, they were fucking pathetic.

And they called themselves football players. Romoth shouldn't have looked back, because when he did there was a falter in his steps as he walked into a pot hole. As he went down I tackled him. I pinned him to his back holding his arms down with my legs.

Grabbing him by the scruff of his neck, I brought him close.

“Bullying a little girl? Didn't you learn manners?”

I laid a punch to his face and he tried bucking me off him but I outweighed him by at least twenty pounds.

“Stupid lesbo was asking for it.”

“No girl asks to be raped and beaten you sick little prick. Go near her again and I'll make you regret being fucking born. Worthless creep.”

I shoved him back and got up.

“Don't even think about trying to come after me Romoth. You and your boys are no match for me.”

“We’ll see about that.”

I ignored him and hurried back around the corner to see the girl huddled into herself. It took a few minutes and a little coercion and she let me take her inside SoIn. When I picked her up, she was surprisingly light for a girl who looked like she had some meat on her bones. She wasn't a big girl but carrying her I definitely felt her soft curves underneath my hands.

Her shirt had been ripped and she has the beginnings of a shiner. She was clutching her stomach as I sat her down.

Her name was Penelope Handleman. Such a pretty name for a pretty girl.

I went to go grab her a SoIn shirt to change into as Johnny asked if I was done with my smoke break. Hell, I hadn't even thought about taking a drag after going after those idiots. I sure as hell hope they don't try to press charges against me.

I shook my head but that wasn't enough so satisfy Johnny so he followed me back.

“What’s going on, Deke?”

I said nothing as I walked into the break room and let him see for himself.

He cursed low as he caught sight of Penelope.

“The hell happen, son?”

His dee gravelly voice made her flinch and I couldn't help but react the way I did. I stood in front of her so she didn't have to see the rising anger in Johnny’s eyes.

“Boy, I'd never hurt a little girl and you know it.”

“It's okay. I'm Penelope Handleman. You can call me Penny. I tripped out back and stumbled.  Deke here just offered to help me out. Just let me know how much the shirt is and I'll get out of y'alls hair.”

I looked at her credulously. Did she really think that was going to fly?

“Fucking hell, you fell? Penelope—

“Penny.”

I pinned her with my death stare but that didn't stop her from pinning me with one of her own. Her hazel eyes burned with green, browns and blues swirls.

“Penelope that is not what happened.”

“Says you.” Damn she was stubborn. She looked past me and when I turned I saw that Johnny was not even looking at her but at me. His eyebrows were raised and he looked like he was about to smile. I pinned him with the death stare but he just rolled his eyes. “If you don't mind, I'll pay for the shirt and go home. My parents are probably worried.”

I looked over my shoulder to see her stand but her arm was still clutched to her stomach.

“What's wrong with your stomach?”

I could tears clouding her eyes and I knew she was close to being past her limit. How I knew? No fucking idea but I felt it. What the hell was wrong with me?

Her blouse slipped and revealed the delicate flesh of her collarbone to the top swell of her breast.

She just shook her head.

I turned back to Johnny to find him gone. Hoping he was taking care of my next appointment, I walked past Penelope and grabbed the first aid kit in the cabinet. I returned to her, and sat on the coffee table across from her. She was huddled into herself.

“Penelope. He’s gone. Why didn’t you say what happened?”

“It’s none of your concern. Thank you for helping me. I’ll pay for the shirt, but I need to get home.”

“Sweetheart, your brow is bleeding and you look like your growing a shiner. The corner of your mouth is cut. What else did that asshole do to you? What’s wrong with your belly, Penelope?”

“He punched it.”

My hands fisted in the shirt I had over my lap. Fucking Romoth. My hands automatically went to her hair, which was damp and straggly from being pushed down into the wet pavement. I brushed it back and went to open the first aid.

“I’ll clean the worst of it before you change. You don’t want to get the shirt bloodied.”

She nodded and I swear the tears in her eyes were bubbling once again.

“Cry if you have to, Penelope. He scared you, didn’t he?”

She nodded, keeping her head down. I put the crook of my finger under her chin and lifted it until I could see her beautiful multicolored eyes.

“Trust me, sweetheart. He won’t ever be messing with you again.”

One lone tear fell and it was like someone had taken over my body. I leaned in and kissed away the tear on her cheek. Other than the widening of her eyes and a small gasp, she didn’t’ say anything.

I got to work on her brow, she hissed in pain as I cleaned the cut there and at her lip. Rage settled through me, a burning desire to go find those shitheads and really pound into them.

“Thank you.” Her voice was small, meek and shaky.

“What for, sweetheart?”

“For saving me. And for not telling your boss.”

“I’m sorry it happened to you. I’m glad I was there. And I’ll tell him.”

“But—

“Penelope, I beat them. If they press charges, I want Johnny to know ahead of time.”

More tears formed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Deke. I hope they don’t. But if they do, I have no intention of keeping it to myself. Maybe I should take some pictures. Just in case.”

“You don’t have to. I knew what I was doing.”

Her hand reached out and settled on my arm. “It’s the right thing to do. I hate that I have to see them in school, but I’m not the type of girl to just let—OH NO! My backpack!”

She tried standing, but wobbled instead.

“Penelope, sit tight. Here.” Passing her the shirt, I stood up, doing my best not to intimidate her, but not wanting her to panic about her belongings. “You’re looking better. Switch into the shirt and I’ll go out back for your things, okay?”

“Thank you.”