Biker's Virgin

This wasn’t going to be easy. He was drunk and obviously an ass. I took a deep breath and said, “You seem upset, sir. I’d like to help if I can. I live here, and we don’t like any problems. I’ll have to assume you’re trying to break into that apartment and call the police unless you tell me what is going on.”

“I’m just trying to get my daughter to open the fucking door,” he shouted the last part and slammed his open palm against the door. He was slurring his words together. She was right about him being drunk. He not only looked and sounded it — he stank. I was almost getting drunk off the fumes.

“Who’s your daughter?”

He looked annoyed again, but he said, “Daphne Carter…my Daffy…”

“Well that explains it, sir. The person who lives there isn’t named Daphne…”

“Oh, shut the hell up and go away!” he said, kicking the door again. He wasn’t buying my act any longer. “Daffy! Open this fucking door!”

“Sir, I’m calling the police” I had my phone in my hand, and I was literally shocked when he swung around and kicked it out of my palm. It flew into the bushes lining the stairwell. My hand stung…and now I was pissed.

Without thinking, I reacted. I reached up to grab him by the front of his shirt and pulled him down towards me. He tried to take a swing, but I had him too close, he didn’t have enough room to connect.

“What the hell are you doing? Let go of me!” I tried. I let go of him with a shove, and he fell on his ass on the sidewalk.

“Get out of here, this is the last time I’m asking you,” I told him. I was shocked at the feelings raging inside of me. If he was this willing to attack a stranger, what had he done to Daphne? He outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds and his fists were like huge bear paws. I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of him hurting her…of anyone hurting her.

That moment was when it finally clicked for me: what I felt for her went way beyond sex. I was actually tempted to kick him while I watched him struggle to his feet. I almost made myself sick.

I took a deep breath and watched him. I thought he was finished, and I was going to resist my urges and let him go. He turned his back to me and started to walk away. I had almost breathed a sigh of relief, when all of a sudden, he turned back and like a wild animal, he came at me.

I could have stepped out of the way…I suppose. But instead, I chose to bring up my knee. It connected with the soft part of his gut and as he fell forward, it hit the underside of his chin. He went down again. This time, he had blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

I had to try one last time to talk to him. It’s what I’m supposed to do…right? “Please, don’t make me hurt you anymore. Just walk away. My intentions here are not to hurt you.”

“Fuck you! You didn’t h

urt me, you little pussy!” He wiped the blood from his chin and crawled back up out of the dirt, immediately taking a swing at me with his right arm.

I blocked it with my left and threw out a right jab. It landed squarely between his eyes, and his nose started spurting blood. He covered it with both his hands. Blood oozed out from between his fingers.

I couldn’t believe I caused that. In a nasally voice he said, “You broke my nose, you dumb fuck!”

“Not yet,” I told him. It wasn’t broken. I hadn’t hit him hard enough. “But I will if you don’t leave, right now.” The most frightening thing about that was that I meant it.

He looked like he might be drunk enough or stupid enough to say something else. I stayed in my fight stance wondering who the hell I was.

If Max and Ryan saw me as I was then, it would blow them away. We used to spar as boys and I was always the one to give in first. Not because I was a pussy, but because I just really hated the idea of fighting.

Finally, whatever good sense he had left kicked in. He dusted himself off, and with blood still pouring from his nose, he started to walk away. I tried to tell myself to just let him go, but I was beyond reasoning, even with myself.

“Hey!” I yelled at him. He stopped and turned around to look at me. He still had a smug look on his face and God help me, but I was tempted to wipe it off. Instead, in a voice infused with rage, I said, “If you ever come near her again…or even call her…I will find you and I will make your life a living hell. Do you understand me?”

In his nasally voice, he said, “Fuck you.” He spit on the sidewalk and blood went everywhere, and then he flipped me off before turning around again and walking away.

This time, I let him go. I think I was frozen for several seconds over the shock of hearing those words come out of my mouth. I’m a Catholic Priest. Jesus, what is happening to me?

I watched him make his way through the parking area. He was weaving as he walked. He didn’t get into a car. That was at least one good thing. I watched until he disappeared down the street into the night. He would probably walk into the nearest bar. Hopefully, they’d take one look at him and not serve him.

I knocked on the door and so she wouldn’t be too frightened to open it I called, “Daphne, it’s Jace. He’s gone.” Several minutes went by. I thought she wasn’t going to open the door so I said, “Daphne, you’re safe. Please open the door.”

Finally, when I was just about to knock again, I heard the latch. She pulled the door open just enough to peek out. I could see terror in her eyes and felt that surge of rage once more. I wished that I had broken his nose.

“He’s gone?” she asked in a shaky voice.

“Yeah, he’s not going to hurt you tonight…or ever again if I have anything to say about it.” She closed the door, and I heard her disengage the chain.