Heroic Acts

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Chapter Eight: Heroic Acts

(Ricky's POV)

I was driving by when I saw Kat and a man standing on the sidewalk. When I saw him grab her, I had to stop to see what was going on. No one grabs her like that. I cut through the opposite lane and stop by the sidewalk. I propped my bike up and walked over to them.

"Who the hell are you?" I asked. "And why are you grabbing her like that?"

"I think you need to mind your own damn business, kid," he said.

"And I think you need to take your hands off of her now," I said.

"Ricky just go," I heard the sound of Kat's voice for the first time in a month I think it's been that long. It could have been longer.

"Who is this guy?" I asked her.

"None of your business," the man said.

"I wasn't talking to you," I said. "I was talking to the girl."

"He's my father," she said. I saw red in that exact moment and I tackled him to the ground. I had no control over myself and I kept punching him. "Ricky, stop!"

I couldn't stop. I wanted to beat him to death for touching Kat the way he did. I felt Kat's hand on my shoulder and her other on my arm trying to get me to stop. I looked down at her. . . the man and his nose and mouth was bleeding. I heard sirens of a police car pull up behind me.

I looked behind me and a man in a suit got out of the car walking past me to the man on the ground. I looked back to Kat and her facial expression was a mix of appreciation and joy, something else I hadn't seen in while.

"Thank you," she whispered to me as the cops handcuffed her dad and stuck him in the back of a cop car.

"Son, you might want to get that hand looked at," the man in the suit said.

"It's okay, Mr. Baker," Kat said. "I'll take good care of him."

"It's good to see you again, Kat," the man, Mr. Baker, said. "You're all grown up. Last time I saw you in person you were this tall."

He gestured her height with his hand. I couldn't help but smile.

"Didn't Connie tell you?" Mr. Baker asked Kat.

"No, what was she suppose to tell me?" Kat asked.

"Connie's mom and I split up and she took off to Europe," he said. "I think I need a change. Son, you better get some ice on that hand of yours."

He pointed at me and then got in the car with the other officer. They pulled off the curb and headed towards the local police station. As soon as they were gone, Kat grabbed my hand to examine the damage. I'm surprised she wasn't grossed out by the blood on my hand. Most of it wasn't even mine.

She pulled out some wipes from her purse and began wiping the blood away. She ran the wipe over a cut on my hand and I jumped a little because it started to burn.

"I'm sorry," she said. "We should probably go home so I can clean this up the right way."

"Let's go," I said and we walked over to my bike.

"Are you sure you can drive?" she asked.

"Yes, I'll be fine," I said putting my helmet back on. I had to get it out of the grass in the person's yard that I stopped in front of. When I got off my bike to see what was going on, I just threw it somewhere. She climbed on the back of my motorcycle and I tried hard not to think that any second she would be pressed up against me. I felt her arms wrap around my stomach and the muscles in my stomach tensed up. I wrapped my right hand around the handlebar and it burn in pain. Crap, this hurts.

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