JENNY PULLED JP back onto his heels, trying to defuse the situation, but Gil seized the opportunity to thrash his whole body to the left, disrupting JP’s balance enough to free his arms. Before they could realize what had happened, Gil shoved his hands into JP’s chest, separating him from Jenny and launching him onto the floor. Gil was on his knees in an instant, an agility Jenny never saw coming.
He dug his right knee into JP’s wrist with all of his weight until the pain became unbearable and JP released the machete. Gil reached for the knife, but as his fingers felt the handle, Jenny whipped her leg around and kicked it across the room.
Without looking, Gil swung his extended arm until it collided with Jenny’s face and sent her to the floor. She made eye contact with JP as she fell. What had they done?
With his right arm still immobile under Gil’s weight, JP violently thrashed his knees and left arm against Gil. He caused little damage, but won Gil’s full attention. The man, who moments ago had looked so helpless, was in full control. He pulled back, balling his hand into a fist. He aimed above JP’s head, but hesitated and grabbed onto JP’s hair instead. Again and again, he bashed JP’s head against the floor until the boy lost all the fight in him. JP closed his eyes, life escaping.
Jenny gasped, emitting a pained noise. This was her idea. She’d thought she was so smart.
Gil reacted to the noise and turned toward her. His tone shifted as if he were ashamed of what he’d done to upset her.
“I’m sorry. I was just defending myself.” He rose to his feet, looking again like the insecure loser in baggy clothes.
He moved toward her. Jenny used her arms to scoot backward, retreating from his approach. Her movements were no match for a man on his feet. He was upon her in seconds.
“Jenny, please,” he pleaded, dropping to the floor beside her. He placed his hand on hers, and when she jerked it away, he seemed surprised. How could a man who had just won the battle for his woman be rejected?
This time he reached out for her shoulder, aggressive, no longer asking permission. He pushed her back. She fell flat against the hardwood floor as he climbed on top of her.
Jenny wanted to fight. She wanted to make it stop, but his weight was so forceful against her. The blows to her head, the fear, it was too much. She went limp, closed her eyes, and pictured the waves crashing against the beautiful white sands of Mexico.
Jenny concentrated on making her body go numb, anything she could do to not feel Gil on top of her. She squeezed her eyes closed as hard as she could, or so she thought. At the sound of his zipper, she found the strength to press her eyelids even closer together. She took one more breath, the last she would take before everything changed.
Jenny opened her eyes when she felt Gil lurching backward. JP’s arm was in a chokehold around his neck, yanking him off her. Gil crashed to the floor, and JP pounced on top of him. JP didn’t take his eyes off the man as he landed his first punch right below Gil’s left eye. Gil flailed underneath the boy and JP landed another punch in the same spot. His fists picked up speed. Over and over again they landed, narrowly avoiding Gil’s glasses.
Jenny would not calm JP’s rage this time. She scrambled to her feet and raced to the cordless phone resting on the kitchen counter. She dialed 9-1 … then stopped. She couldn’t call the cops. It would ruin everything. She pressed the cancel button over and over until a dial tone returned. She dialed one of the few numbers she had worked to memorize before they left, her sister’s.
It rang over and over. The young girl danced in place, watching JP punch Gil, who was still squirming to deflect the blows. Finally, she heard a click.
Jenny could hear breathing on the other end, but no words. “Hello?” Jenny half asked, half begged.
“Who … this?” Virginia slurred, barely coherent.
“Virginia,” Jenny screamed, “please, I need your help.” She spoke fast with the high pitch of panic.
“What?” A groggy response.
“Virginia, please, it’s Jenny. I don’t know what to do. A man attacked me. Can you come get me?”
“Jenny?”
Jenny turned the receiver away from her mouth to address JP. “Something’s wrong with her.” JP didn’t react; his hands were full with Gil, who was managing to land his own punches into JP’s side. There was no one to help her.
She went back to the phone. “I can’t call the cops and I can’t go home, what do I do?”
“Mark,” Virginia whispered.
“What?”
“Mark.”
“Are you at his house?” The question met silence. “Are you at Mr. Renkin’s house?” she begged for the answer she wanted. The breathing on the other end became labored and uneven. Then Jenny heard a click. “Virginia? Are you there? Are you OK?”
All that met her on the other end of the phone was a dial tone. Jenny clenched the phone, unwilling to accept that her sister wasn’t going to save her. JP and Gil struggled on the floor, neither one able to land a punch to end it. She didn’t know what to do. She was a helpless observer.
JP went for the kill, a vicious full-body swing at Gil’s face. The man turned his head at the last second, causing JP’s fist to just graze his nose and completely throw the boy off balance.
Gil launched his knee between JP’s legs. It connected, sending an almost visible shock through JP’s whole body. The boy grabbed himself with both hands and rolled to the floor.
Forget it, Jenny thought and grabbed the phone to dial 9-1-1.
Gil scrambled to his feet and lifted his gaze to Jenny. There was something different behind his eyes. Somewhere, between the attempted rape and the fight, he’d found confidence. It was terrifying.
Jenny dropped the phone and sprinted for the sliding glass door. Gil reacted on cue and lunged after her. The three-step advantage was just enough to get Jenny out the door before he reached her. The rusty floodlight lit up the backyard as far as the tree line. She sprinted, barefoot, toward the darkness. Her only hope was to hide.
The grass was cold and damp under her feet, but she had no time to process the feeling. Jenny could hear Gil behind her, the damage JP had caused slowing his pace just enough. She reached the end of the light and jumped over the rock wall at the edge of the yard. The wet grass was like walking on clouds compared to the twigs she landed on. She grimaced for a beat before swallowing hard and running full speed again. The darkness was her advantage. She only had to hide. He had to find her.
She ran until his steps were muted; then she slowed and went quiet. Ahead was a fallen tree, one of many that littered the old woods. Every step toward it was a potential alert to her position. A loud stick, a disturbed animal, any noise would rock the silence.
Even on its side, the tree was half her height. The last signs of innocence on her soft cotton nightgown disappeared as she crawled over the mossy trunk. She scooped a chunk of leaves and dirt from underneath and then wedged her body into the crevice as best she could.
Once she finally lay still, she realized how cold she was. She fought hard not to shake, but couldn’t stop. How long would she have to stay there? How long could she survive there?