Page 58 of The Lucky One

My eyes widened at the violence unfolding before me. Each one of Paul’s punches was a calculated demonstration of power. The man staggered backward, trying to retreat, but Paul pursued him relentlessly, his eyes glazed with a primal anger.

“Paul, stop!” I screamed.

“No!” Paul roared. He pushed the man down to the pavement and pummeled him.

I wasn’t naive about all those movies with fist fights where all they got was a black eye. I’d studied anatomy, read some cases. One hit on the wrong spot and this man could be dead.

I ran up to Paul and threw my arms around him to pull him back. I wouldn’t let him mess up his life for this. He turned, fist raised. His eyes were foreign, like he wasn’t in control of his actions anymore.

“Paul!” I threw my arms over my head.

His fist froze in midair.

His face went from red to pale as a ghost.

“Kiki... I’m sorry,” he gasped as if waking from a trance.

“It’s okay. Let’s go.” I pulled him by the hand to his car.

“You’ll regret this, Paul Shields,” the man cursed, wiping blood from his face and spitting on the ground. He looked all right, I hoped. We couldn’t call the police. Paul had thrown all the punches; he didn’t look like the victim here.

“How do you know my name!” Paul spun back around.

“Paul!” I yelled. “Let’s go! Now!” I pushed him into the passenger seat, taking his keys and the role of the driver.

It took all the way to my house before Paul’s breathing finally calmed. I turned off the engine and asked the question that was burning in my gut. “Was that the man who attacked you before?”

He shrugged, staring out the window, his body shaking.

“Are you okay? Do you think you can drive yourself home?”

He didn’t say anything, only stared at his ripped-open knuckles. All that blood. I looked out at my house. My parents’ shadows moved behind the curtains in the dining room. There was no way I could get Paul in without them seeing us.

“I’ll drive you to your place,” I decided.

The look on his face when he accosted the man. It wasn’t the Paul I knew. He terrified me.

I was pretty sure he terrified himself as well.

“You don’t have to come in,” Paul said, staring at his bloody hands.

I shook my head. “Nope, I’m coming with you.”

Getting out of the car, I realized that my legs were shaking. After a few seconds he followed me out. He pointed at the garage. “Let’s go through there so my parents won’t see... this.” He held up his mangled fists.

“You got a bathroom in your basement?” I asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“I have to pee,” I admitted, finally getting a twitch of a smile from him.

We slipped under the garage door and he let it down again. When he turned on the lights, I almost blew our cover and screamed, surrounded by skeletons and dead bodies.

“Right, I forgot about Zack and his haunted house obsession,” I gasped. “Been a while since I’ve been here.”

Paul gave me a tired smile. “Sorry, I got so used to it, I sometimes forget it’s even here.” He went ahead into the house and I hurried after him.

Once we were in the basement, Paul touched a door and said, “Here’s the bathroom if you want to use it.”