A breezy, cloudy night, neighbors stood shivering on their lawns. Red and blue lights were flashing; police officers were standing and talking to neighbors and Angela's front door stood open. In the ten minutes it took Jack to get there, it took five for the cops. Before he could storm in the small suburban home, a police officer in his early fifties stopped him. "Sir, please wait. They're arresting the suspect. Were you the man who called this in and how do you know the woman involved?" the police officer took out a small note pad to write down Jack's statement.
"I'm her boss and I was." Staring at Angela's home, he watched two other officers lead Nick away in handcuffs. Without waiting for an all clear, Jack ran to the porch and stormed into the living room to find Angela sitting on the couch, giving another officer the end of her statement. Jack saw a bruise already forming on her right triceps, where it seemed Nick grabbed her. "Hey honey, are you ok?" Jack sat down next to her and lifted her onto his lap. Angela barely protested and curled into Jack.
The officer that stopped him outside walked in towards them. He relieved the woman and crouched in front of Jack, "I'm Brian O'Neil, lead detective. Angela said she called someone right before the attack. As you confirmed that outside, I assume you'll be staying with her tonight?" Brian surveyed Angela another moment, standing up from his crouch, walked to the splintered front door.
"Yes, Sir, I am. Is there anything else?" Jack smoothed his hand down Angela's back, calming her as she began to cry again.
"Just that someone will be by soon to replace the door. I'll be in touch soon though," O'Neil noticed how the man had protectively surrounded the poor girl. Whether they noticed, what was between them or not, he would have loved to stick around to see the fireworks explode. He bid them goodnight and left.
"I'm staying here tonight," looking down at the frightened woman in his arms, he knew he would have kicked Nick's ass if he had gotten there first. "Honey, I'm staying here tonight. I'll be on the couch if you need me." Angela stayed as she was and only responded with a head nod. Wrapping her closer, Jack stood with Angela in his arms and carried her to bed, laying her down gently. "I'll be in the living room if you need me." Jack reminded her as he tucked her in. Before he finished his task, Angela was fast asleep.
The next morning, Angela woke disoriented. Thinking that everything that happened the night before was a dream, she walked to the bathroom across the hall. Glancing at the mirror, she noticed the large black and blue fingerprints on her arm and another on her jaw line. Not remembering she only wore a nightshirt that came down to just her thighs, Angela stumbled into the kitchen. She found Jack standing by the stove, cooking eggs. She stood in the doorway for a short time, watching him. Jack's muscled; tanned, shirtless back faced her. His jeans rode low on his narrow hips and his feet were bare. As Angela watched him, Jack ran his hand through his sleep-tousled hair.
"Good morning. So everything that happened wasn't a dream?" Angela walked to the coffee maker, reaching above her head; she took out two mugs and poured the exotically bitter liquid.
Looking over his shoulder at Angela, "Morning, and no, it wasn't a dream." he noted both bruises were darker and a little more noticeable. "How do you feel? Are you willing to take the day off?
