My home was her home now. As I carried her out of her house, I felt nothing but anger. Anger at Asher and at the scum of the Earth in general. I couldn't fathom why people wanted to hurt one another and use each other, but I knew it would never stop. I just don't understand why Talia had to suffer. She may have been a pain in the ass, but she was a glow in the abyss of dark people I had been encountering with lately. Talia had a direction, a hope, and always wore a smile. She wasn't today though. Today she looked broken. She was a fragile, glass vase, shining on a table where no one was able to touch her. All of a sudden, a fucking earthquake sends her shattering to pieces. That earthquake was Asher, someone she trusted to the stitch. I looked down at her half limp, blood stained body and I knew it would take time before this girl was able to even smile again. I had to keep her safe, although I hadn't known her long. Maybe she was better off at a family's house? I doubt it. Families are the nosiest motherfuckers alive, no matter how cool they can be. She didn't need to be questioned. She needed assistance. To my house we went. She was dazed and confused as we arrived. She probably had no idea where we were. I sighed and carried her into my house. The place looked like shit. Usually I wouldn't care, but I had a guest in the house so all of a sudden I felt like a French maid. No time for that now. I laid her on my bed, taking her blood soaked shirt off, grimacing when I realized this was her Pj's and she didn't wear a bra to bed. She'll kill me when she finds out. Oh well. I took some alcohol and poured it on her deep cuts on her ribs, probably from where her skin greeted glass. She didn't even flinch, and I knew it stung. She was out cold. I wrapped her ribs a few times, being careful not to get it on her breasts because it was sticky athletic wrap. I blushed at her body first, then shook my head and acted professional about it. I got a clean shirt from my closet and put it over her body, chuckling how it draped over her. It could've been a dress for her. To finish up, I wrapped up her hand and dabbed alcohol on her cheek cut. I put a few blankets over her body and locked the windows and all the doors in my house that connected us to the outside world. Asher would probably come home and find a house empty. Due to prior jealousy that he had for me and Talia, he would probably come here. My response to that thought was me cocking a 20 gauge shotgun, ready to rock. I laid it on the table for easy reach and patrolled the house that night, thoughts swarming.
People sicken me. The idiocy they claim for themselves makes me vomit my heart. How a man could beat a woman, or vice versa, is absolutely pathetic. Pieces of shit like Asher are the reasons I truly think a zombie apocalypse wouldn't be so bad. I'd drink a beer, smoke a cigarette, and have a target practice with a few of them. Then I'd tie cinderblocks to my feet and blow my brains out near the water and go to the bottom. Dark thinking I know. I'm just pissed. I doubt I'm going crazy anytime soon. Right now, I'm just waiting for that sack of shit to step a foot on my property.
Morning came faster than I thought it would. Not a sound was in the house. Let's keep it that way. I was sitting at my couch, watching TV. I heard her voice.
"Shane?" she squeaked out. I spun around and almost cracked. The shirt I gave her was bloodstained again. It wasn't a lot of blood. Actually it was severely dried. She must've stopped bleeding. In the morning light, I could see more marks on her.
"Talia, you're up.." I said, looking her up and down, "Oh my goodness sweetie, your body is so bruised up."
The moment she saw it, the second the tears drained out of her eyes. "Oh no.." she groaned through the sobbing
"C'mere sweetie." She was so horrified that I pulled her into a gentle hug. Holding Talia in my arms made ME feel better, which is absolutely idiotic seeming as I'm not the one who just got beat to death. Knowing I can look at her, and that she's in a house with a shitload of firepower, made my heart warm. No one touches her.
A week had went by without much dispute. Jeff had given the both of us time off indefinitely due to Talia's injury. Talia didn't want to tell Jeff, but we compromised due to the fact that you really can't explain these wounds. Talia's mental state wasn't doing much better. Her heart fell out of her chest every time she would hear a sudden sound, small or big. She didn't watch TV, only ate when I cooked for her, and barely made a sound. She clang to me for dear life. On most occasions, I hated when a girl was clingy. Talia's case was not only an exception, it didn't even bother me in the tiniest way. Talia and my bed, by the end of the week, had become best friends. She barely moved, her blank eyes staring out the window. She was patrolling for him. I was too, honestly. I patrolled my house and yard 3 times a day every day that week. No sign of him.
Then there was Saturday