Touch Me (You & Me 2)

“Tim is at the hospital. He’s pressing charges.”

“Katherine, don’t worry about Ben. Not only does he have the best lawyer in town, he’s got money and power. This isn’t the end of the world. Ben is going to be fine,” she assured her.

“I hope so. Ben got hit a couple times. I hope they let a doctor look at him,” she murmured.

“Ben boxes. I know you know that. He’s been hit before. He’s going to be okay. I should call Will though. Sit tight,” she said, and went back to the desk.

Katherine listened as Rachel filled the man in as to what was happening. When she hung up the phone, she was smiling.

“Is he mad?” she asked hesitantly.

“At you? God no. He just wanted to know who won.”

Katherine thought about it. “I think Ben definitely won, but I also think Tim let him. He attacked him a second time because he knew the police were on their way. When the police got there, Ben was on top of Tim hitting him. Tim was the innocent victim and Ben was the crazy man beating on the poor man who was just trying to talk to his wife. I wished I could have hit him once.”

Rachel was smiling. “I have a feeling Ben got in a few good punches for you. I’m sorry it happened, but you have to trust me when I say this is all going to work out. Do you have somewhere to stay? I’m assuming Tim wasn’t arrested which means he is going to be coming for you.”

“I’m staying with a friend for now.”

Rachel looked at her and she could see the understanding in her eyes. “Don’t do anything until you’ve had a chance to talk to Ben, okay?”

Katherine nodded. “I won’t.”

“Promise me. Don’t run. Give him a chance to make this go away,” she said in a soft voice.

Katherine wanted to promise but couldn’t. If it looked like Tim was going to make it his mission to take Ben down, she would leave. She would not let Ben pay for her mistakes. It was bad enough he was sitting in jail, probably getting fingerprinted and his mug shot taken while she sat on his comfy couch in his office where he should have been.

It wasn’t right. Tim was going to make her life a living hell until she went back. If she did go back, her living hell would include physical torture. Her future did not look bright.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Ben

BEN WAS PISSED. BEYOND pissed. He was furious. He was still stuck inside a holding cell in some bullshit limbo. He wasn’t officially in jail, but he wasn’t free to go. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but he had a feeling Tim was behind it. He’d had to sleep on a hard bench with three other guys that looked like they wanted to eat him for breakfast.

He looked down at his knuckles. They were bruised and swollen. He smiled. They hurt, but it was all worth it. He would slam his fist into Tim’s face again and again.

“What are you smiling about, pretty boy?” one of his cellmates asked.

Ben looked up to see a bald man that probably weighed about three-hundred pounds glaring at him. The man had a tattoo of a knife on his neck, making him appear even more menacing.

“I’m not smiling at anyone or anything,” Ben retorted.

The giant stepped forward. Ben stood up. He wasn’t going to be intimidated. He’d probably get his ass kicked, but he wasn’t going to back down from anyone.

“You’re a smartass. A smartass pretty boy.”

Ben smiled. “I don’t want any trouble.”

“I’m already in trouble and since you’re in here with us, I’d say you were as well. Trouble has found you my friend,” the man said, his breath nearly knocking Ben backwards with its pungent aroma.

Ben braced himself to get hit. The man looked him up and down and must have decided he wasn’t worth it. He took a few steps back and returned to his bench on the other side of the cell. Ben exhaled the breath he’d been holding. His eyes drifted to the man sitting on the other end of the bench he’d been occupying all night. His bench mate was smaller than the bald dude, but the evil radiated off of him. He could feel the menacing stares coming from all three men. It was why he’d stayed up most of the night, afraid to fall asleep.

“Keep looking at me and I’m going to blind you,” the man said in a growl.

Ben knew he wasn’t lying. The man had beady dark eyes. The blood under his fingernails was slightly alarming. Ben had blood on his hands, but he had a feeling it was for very different reasons. The guy looked like a murderer, or at least what he imagined a murderer to look like. He didn’t have any real knowledge or experience. His social circles were a little different than what he was encountering in the new accommodations he was being forced to live in.

“Benson,” the guard called out and the man that had been sharing his bench stood, smiling at Ben before sauntering towards the open cell door.