3 – Tower of Strength

I would see Marcus Forrester again much earlier than I could have ever imagined. Trouble started as soon as my mom's friend arrived back home. My mom was just tucking me into her bed when the front door closed with a bang, a loud roar followed.

"Chantal, get your bitch ass out here."

My mom stroked the side of my face. "Stay in bed, honey. I'll be right back."

I hid under the blanket when the two women started to yell at each other. Their cussing upset my stomach and at some point, I stuck my fingers into my ears to drown out the sounds. When a man's voice was added to the mix, I got really scared. Something broke in the living room before my mom's scream echoed through the house.

"Mommy." I jumped out of bed and ran to check on her. My body stilled in the doorway, my muscles cramping at the sight in front of me. My mom was lying on the living room floor in a puddle of blood, this tall guy kicking the shit out of her.

"Leave my mommy alone!" I screamed. Tears blurred my vision.

He paused, glaring at me.

"That's the bitch's daughter," my mom's friend shrieked. "She's the one who squealed on Tisha."

He grinned. "You'll get a spanking you'll never forget." He took a step forward toward me.

For a moment, I feared my knees would buckle, but then my body developed a mind of its own. I spun around and ran, trying to hide in my mom's bedroom. After slamming the door shut, my small fingers turned the key in the lock. My heart was pounding so hard that every other sound was drowned out.

I tried to open the window to climb out, but somehow, the latch was stuck. My eyes darted around in the desperate attempt to find somewhere to hide. There was a small space under the bed or maybe the clothes in the closet could cover me, but both places didn't appear safe. That's where they would be looking for me first.

A whimper ran over my lips when banging echoed through the house. The guy was pounding against the bedroom door, shouting something my mind refused to absorb. My lungs were burning from working overtime while I rattled the window again until my eyes fell onto my mom's purse. I could use her phone to call help. In my panic, I pressed the green call button repeatedly and the phone must have dialed the last number on the log.

A man picked up. "This is Marcus Forrester."

"Help me." The words were barely audible between my sobs.

"Patrice. Is that you?"

"Yeah." I cried out when the guy kicked against the door. "Please, you got to help me."

"Are you at home?"

"Yeah." A loud shriek rang in my ears when the door busted open. The guy towered in the doorway, his eyes dark as coals. A loud "HELP" escaped with a gurgle when he grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, the phone slipping out of my hand.

The air was pressed from my lungs when my body slammed across his thigh. I gasped, wiggling and kicking to free myself from his grip, but it was to no avail. Pain radiated through my small body as his large hand came down hard on my butt. The second blow stole me of my breath. I screamed at the top of my lungs, both from fear and pain, as my torment continued. Burning tears mixed with the saliva in my mouth as cry after cry sprang from my lips.

My punishment stalled when new voices melted with the huffs of the guy. I was dropped on the ground and used this as an opportunity to get on my hands and knees to crawl away. With blind eyes, my head bumped into an obstacle before two hands firmly cupped my shoulders.

"Are you Patrice Williams?"

I looked up at the voice. Through my tears, I could make out a Chicago PD cap. A squeaky "yeah" was my response.

He gently squeezed my shoulders. "It's okay now. You're safe." His voice was soft, but firm, sucking the tension straight from my body.

His face came into focus as he kneeled in front of me. He was a young dude with warm brown eyes, but I still didn't trust him. My mom had never been fond of cops.

"What about my mommy?" I piped.

"We called an ambulance."

This didn't ease my fear.

"Can you stand up, Patrice?"

With his help, I got on my feet. He walked me over to the bed. Throbbing shot up my spine as I lowered myself onto the mattress. I whimpered. My mom had never spanked me before and the incredible pain was total foreign to me.

"Stay right here, Patrice. Mr. Forrester is on his way."

I nodded, my eyes following the young cop as he left the room. When the door closed behind him, the fear almost swallowed me up. There had been so much blood. What if my mom died? Where would I go?

Tears rolled down my cheeks while I waited, the fear growing with every passing minute until my chest threatened to crack under the pressure. I tried to make out the muffled voices drifting from the living room, but I only caught single words that didn't make sense. The baby of my mom's friend was crying his head off. Maybe I should check on him. He was only two and had to be really scared, just like me. Yet, it gave me comfort that I was not the only one. It would have been embarrassing.

My head snapped around when the door slowly opened. Marcus stuck his head in. "Hey there."

My arms automatically reached for him as fresh tears clouded my vision. His embrace was tight and made me feel safe. I wept against his shoulder while his hand stroked my back. I couldn't stop crying.

"Shh," he mumbled. "It's all gonna work out now."

I believed him. He was my tower of strength that night and without him, the trauma would have left some serious damage. His presence soothed me after a while. He helped me blow my nose and got me something to drink to calm my burning throat.

"Let's get some warm clothes on you, so I can take you to the hospital to check on your mom," he said while he studied my oversized Minnie Mouse t-shirt I was wearing as my nightgown.

On cue, my teeth started chattering. The house was freezing cold. We picked out my only pair of sweat pants and a warm cardigan. He frowned when he realized that they were both a couple of sizes too small. The pants didn't even reach my ankles anymore. I must have grown taller again.

We rode through the night in silence. Just as I did earlier that evening, I admired his car. The whole interior sparkled and the seats were soft. It was like riding on air—even my sore butt stopped hurting for a while.

As he cut the engine, he gazed at me intently. "Patrice, the doctors will examine you too, okay?"

I had always been afraid of doctors, my memories only consisting of needles and tears. "Why?" The lump was building in my throat again.

"I need to make sure you're okay."

That made me feel important. I liked that he cared about me.

"They will also take pictures of you."

That earned him a frown as my cheeks flushed. "What do they need pictures for?"

"What that guy did to you was a crime. We adults call it assault. I need the pictures, so I can put him in jail."

My eyes went wide. "Are you also gonna put him in jail for hurting my mom?"

"Oh, yeah. That guy's gonna go away for a long time"—he squeezed my hand—"but I need your help with the pictures. Can you do that for me?"

I would have done anything for him in that moment. "Sure."

In the end, the whole ordeal was not half as bad as I had thought. The doctors were really nice, especially that student intern who gave me a lollipop. His name was Kade and he told me he was studying to be a doctor. I totally didn't get it. That night, I was sure that I wanted to be a lawyer, putting people in jail, just like Marcus did. It sounded like such a cool job. Nothing else could match that.

He took me by the hand as we walked along the corridor to my mom's room after my examination. I was so nervous I almost hurled. What if she was so hurt that she could no longer take care of me?

She was awake when we arrived, the little bit of her swollen eye I could see beaming at me. The other eye and half of her head were wrapped in a bandage. When she flinched as she tried to smile, I started to cry again.

"Hey." Marcus turned me away and squatted down in front of me. He took my hands. "Be a big girl now, Patrice, and don't upset your mom." His whisper was so low that only I could hear him. "I promise she'll be fine, so no need to cry."

I nodded, sniffling as I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand. The trust I already had in him could have moved mountains. If my mom had lied dead in a casket in front of me, I would have still believed him if he had told me she was coming back.

My mom grilled me, asking about my injuries. I was brave, downplaying the throbbing ache I felt with every movement. Her strained face relaxed under my lie. I was sure I was doing the right thing. She shouldn't have to worry about me since she was in so much pain herself.

"I was going to take Patrice to your mother," Marcus said after he had also assured her that I was fine.

"My parents went to Texas to visit my brother." My mom's face was twisted in pain every time she spoke. "His wife just had a baby and he is being deployed again. They won't be back until next Monday."

"How about I keep her until then?" Marcus stroked my mom's hand. "I really don't want to involve Social Services to find her a temporary placement. You know what this can do to a child, even if it's just for a few days."

"Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Not at all." He smiled at me. "Patrice and I will have a wonderful time."

"But don't you have to work?" Though my mom's voice was hesitant, I could tell she liked the idea.

"Nah, I'll take a couple of days off or get a sitter. It's not a big deal."

We said out goodbyes after that since my mom looked absolutely exhausted. "We'll be by tomorrow," Marcus promised when he switched off the lights.

I yawned, quickly covering my mouth with my hand the way my mom had taught me.

"Someone's getting tired." He offered me his hand. "C'mon, let's go home."

I could barely keep my eyes open as I stumbled along—all energy drained out of me. His grip was firm as he guided me through the hospital and the parking lot to his car. I fell asleep the second I snuggled into the soft seat and only awoke when he carefully placed me into a big, fluffy bed.

"Goodnight, Patrice." He kissed my forehead. "Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite ya."

I giggled. "Night, Marcus."

My thumb moved between my lips as soon as the door closed behind him. I was wide awake again, the events off the day buzzing around in my head like an annoying mosquito. After a while, I started to pray. I wanted God to heal my mom, punish the guy who hurt us—and most of all, I wanted him to make Marcus my daddy.

So more of the "nice" Marcus and how he is slowly conquering Patrice's heart. Makes you question what changed to turn him from the genuine guy who so apparently cares for her and her mom to the monster you all know from the main books. Also, did you catch that young Kade made a brief appearance here? He will continue to pop up as the story unfolds, so stay tuned.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter and catching a glimpse of this other side of our villain. Next week will be the last chapter in which he'll behave; it will go downhill from there. Please share your thoughts and don't forget to vote if this chapter deserved it. 

Thanks for reading and have a great weekend :)