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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Other · #1664239
Sometimes justice is administered outside the law.
         It grew into an obsession. This hatred, this burning rage.
         I see all six of them standing there , laughing and joking about their latest round of torture and abuse. Staring at me, sneering and making jokes.
         The worst part of it? She was standing with them.
         Sarah was beautiful. Heart-breakingly so. I swore vengeance on that group of monsters, but not on her. Not on the angel who tried to keep me safe, even when it meant taking abuse from them. I had watched from where they left me on the ground once when they all took turns with her. Heard her crying. She didn't fight them.
         Fighting only lead to them hurting her more.
         Odd how it was their abuse of her that filled me with this rage. They had broken my nose, cracked my ribs and yet I never once hated them.
         I start a little when the bell rings. I bowed my head when I walked by them, letting my hair hide my smile. Today was the day it all ended.

         The final bell rings and my plan begins. Paul looked as he got into his car. In his pocket was a note from Clarice. Or so he thought. It hadn't been hard to mimic her handwriting. Just a time, a place and a small suggestion that he bring something to help keep them in the mood.
         They others looked over as I laughed, but they all had their own plans for this weekend that didn't involve a loser like me. Or so they thought.

         Seven o'clock at an abandoned house. I watched from across the street as Paul went in. Ron, one of the fools, went in by the side door. Both found a note telling them to strip and go into the basement. Say nothing, and just wait. She would start the fun. I gave them two minutes once they went in, then called the cops and left.

         Steve was at home getting ready to run and buy a pair of kegs. I watched through tinted windows from across the street as cops drew their guns on him when he got out of the car. Laughed as they found the coke I had planted earlier that day. His prints would be on the bag, of course. He used to keep his bands for his braces in it.

         Greg, Matt and Sam were in the clubhouse drinking and waiting for the others. Matt got the phone call from Paul and Ron. After a bit of discussion, the other two agreed he should be the one to go to the station.
         He was picked up within a mile of his house, four days after his eighteenth birthday, driving under the influence. He was getting the express ticket to his friends in jail.
         Sam left the club about five minutes after Matt so Sarah and Greg could have some privacy. 
         Sam made it fifty feet before I finally chloroformed him.
         I went back and stepped inside the club. Greg had just cornered her against a wall and couldn't couldn't see me.
         To bad for him it wouldn't stay that way.
         “Hello, Greg. I'm not interrupting, am I?”
         The startled look as he spun and looked at me was almost worth taking a picture of. He glanced outside, realized I was alone and turned back to face me.
         “You not get enough last time we beat you, kid?” He absently reached back to shove Sarah, who was mouthing 'Run!' at me.
         “Greg, your boys aren't going to be coming back. They aren't even going to be be out of jail for awhile. Only person other than you, she or I is out cold on the ground and liable to remain there.”
         Sarah went to move towards the door, and Greg backhanded her.
         “Whats the matter, Greg? To scared to swing at me? My, what a coward you are. I'm going to beat you into the ground, Greg.”
         He blinked. I don't think he was capable of believing that.
         “Want to know how? It's simple. You have always beat me during school. Times where if I fight back, I would be suspended or expelled. I can't have that, Greg.”
         The other reason I had never fought back or dodged was because it would warn them. Let them know I was capable of fighting. Being the bullies they were, they would take their frustrations out on Sarah.
         And I wasn't about to make her suffer even more.
         His jaw dropped when I pulled my shirt off. Guess he didn't expect me to have muscles. Sarah made a break for a small room. Probably where they usually abused her. Kind of funny that it was the safest place for her right now.
         Greg must have had enough. He lunged at me swinging fists with abandon. This man could bench press almost three hundred pounds. He beat me daily.
         To bad he never learned how to fight.
         I won't bore you with the fight. It was one sided all the way. I had trained for six years in different martial arts styles. Greg never stood a chance one I actually fought.
         I arranged Greg and Sam on the mattress and took Sarah to my car. I drove her to her house and left her and the car there.
         As far as anyone in town knows, I disappeared that night. Sam's parents, who had been hosting the head of the local newspaper, found their son and his 'lover' in the club. The only ones not to get jail time after I was done. What happened to them was worse. They made it into the newspaper, then on to the local news. They were ruined.
         I won't say where I am, except to say I am happy. Sarah it turns out is doing well now and has built a shelter for battered women. 
         She was using her past to make a future.
         In a way, it became her obsession.
© Copyright 2010 Jack Nyder (dorn284 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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