“The bullshit that he would throw at me?” she asked, feeling her face turning red, feeling her temper climbing into the danger zone. “You, who has been stringing me along for the past two years, actually have the balls to say something like that to me? Fuck you, Dave. It’s over and done. Now get the hell out of my apartment!”
Dave stood up and, for a moment, she thought he was actually going to do what she said. But then he shook his head. “I can’t do that, Laura,” he told her. “Not until we talk this thing out and make things right.”
“There is no right with you!” she said. “There is nothing more to talk about! I’m with Jake now. Now go home to your wife!”
“How long do you really think this Jake character is going to be with you? He’s a rich and famous rock star. Do you really believe he’s going to stay with you? That he’s going to stay faithful to you even if he does?”
“That is not any of your business. Nothing I do is any of your business anymore. Get out, Dave. I mean it.”
Dave walked over to her. “I don’t think you do mean it,” he whispered to her. He put his hands on her shoulders.
She angrily shook them off, spinning out of his grasp. In doing so, however, she put Dave between herself and the door. That was when the anger started to give way to fear. Though she was fifteen years younger than Dave, he outweighed her by close to a hundred pounds. “Dave,” she said slowly. “I’m only going to say this one more time. Get out.”
He shook his head. “I came over here to have a little lunchtime fun with my fiancé,” he told her. “I’m not leaving until I’ve done that.”
“No,” she said, backing slowly away.
“Yes,” he said, advancing toward her.
The back of her legs fetched up against the foot of the bed. She had run out of room to back up. His hands came down on her shoulders again, this time gripping them, making it hard for her to twist away.
“Get your hands off of me!” she yelled, approaching terror now.
“Let’s get that shirt off of you,” he said with a grin. “Let me at those little titties of yours. I’ve missed them.”
“PHIL!” Laura screamed as loud as she could. “I need some help in here! Get in here!” Oh God, please let Phil be home.
“Stop acting like you don’t want it,” Dave told her. “You know that nobody can burn in your fire like I can.”
“PHIL!” she screamed again, still trying to twist out of his grip. “For God’s sake, Phil! Help me!”
And then she heard the most blessed sound of her life: Phil’s bedroom door slamming open. “Laura?” his voice called out.
“In here!” she yelled. “This asshole is trying to rape me!”
“What?” he barked. She heard his footfalls pounding rapidly on the floor.
“Rape?” Dave said, still holding onto her. “Don’t be ridiculous, Laura! My god, you are so overdramatic.”
Phil rushed into the room, his hair in disarray, wearing nothing but a pair of white boxers with characters from The Little Mermaid on them. His face was alarmed at first, then turned quickly to anger as he saw who Laura’s assailant was.
“Get your hands off of her!” Phil yelled at the dentist.
“Look, Phil,” Dave told him, trying to make his voice sound reasonable. “Laura and I were just having a little discussion. Nobody’s trying to rape anybody here. She’s my fiancé, for Christ’s sake.”
“She is not your fiancé,” Phil said through gritted teeth. “And I’m only going to say this one more time. Get your fucking hands off of her. NOW!”
Dave released his grip on her, putting the hands up in appeasement. Laura immediately rushed around him and threw herself into Phil’s arms, the adrenaline and relief now surging through her, making her tremble. Phil put his arms around her protectively.
“Holy shit, Phil,” Laura breathed. “Thank God you were home!”
“Look,” Dave said, his hands still up in the air. “I can see there is some sort of misunderstanding going on here.”
“Get the fuck out of here!” Laura yelled at him, tears running down her face now. Tears of shame, of fear, of relief.
“I think you’d better leave, Dave,” Phil told him. “Right now.”
“I’m not leaving until Laura and I...”
“I’m going to count to three,” Phil interrupted, “and if you’re not moving toward that front door by that point, I am going to start using physical violence on you to compel you to leave.”
Dave took an angry step toward him. “You listen to me, you little fudge-packing faggot,” he said, pointing a finger at Phil’s chest. “I don’t know who you think you are, but...”
“All right,” Phil said. “You just lost your three-count.” He gently moved Laura to one side and then took a step toward Dave, throwing a left jab at him from the shoulder, just as he’d been taught by his boxing instructor in high school. Phil had not really been interested in boxing back then—his motivation had been to hang out in a gym with a bunch of sexy, shirtless, sweaty guys—but the lessons had taken, nonetheless. His fist connected with the right side of Dave’s face, making a resounding smack that echoed off the walls. Dave’s head snapped backward, instantly shutting his mouth. He staggered backward a few steps and then fell to his butt on the floor.
“You fucking faggot!” Dave screamed at him, outraged. “How dare you put your dick stroking hands on me!”
“I’m going to put them on your again if you don’t get up and walk out that door right now,” Phil told him.
“You assaulted me! Laura, call the cops on him! I’m pressing charges!”
Laura looked at him in disbelief. “Call the cops on him?” she asked, and then used another Jake-ism she’d picked up along the way. “What fucking world do you live in?”
“I want him in jail!” Dave said.
“Maybe we should call the cops, Laura,” Phil suggested. “I think they’d find the circumstances here very interesting indeed.”
“What are you talking about?” Dave asked.
“You were trying to rape me, you asshole!” Laura screamed.
“I was not trying to rape anyone!” Dave insisted. “Laura and I are in a sexual relationship with each other. We have been for more than a year! Trying to have sex with her is not rape!”
“You have an interesting definition of rape,” Phil said. “I’m pretty sure the cops won’t agree with it, however, especially since Laura broke up with you weeks ago.”
“And especially since you came into my apartment without permission, after you’d already been told several times not to come here, and especially since I’m pretty sure you left bruises on my shoulders when you grabbed me.”
“I ... well ... I wasn’t ... I mean, how was I supposed to take you seriously?” Dave asked her. “Look, things got a little out of control here.”
“And they’re about to get more out of control if you don’t get your ass off that floor and out of this house,” Phil said. “I’m going to start that three count again. If you’re not moving by then, I’ll blacken your other eye and then drag your ass out of here myself.”
This time Dave took him seriously. He slowly got to his feet and walked through the doorway, back into the living room. He trudged toward the door. He turned back once more. “Laura,” he said. “We can work this out. Won’t you please let me...”
“Out, Dave,” she said firmly, still tremoring with adrenaline. “Never come back here again.”
“And leave that key on the end table,” Phil told him.
He dug in his pocket and pulled out the key. He dropped it where told. “This isn’t over,” he said. “I’m not letting you go this easily.”
“You call this fucking easy?” Phil asked.
“We’re meant to be together, Laura,” he said. “I’ll be in touch.”
“No, you won’t,” Laura said. “Never come back here again, never contact me again. We are through, Dave. Completely and irrevocably through. Now get the fuck out of here.”