Punk Rock Ruined Me

(4) He Saved Me

Dexter’s eyes looked from near me, to the floor and back again. He looked very nervous. He brought his lips into his mouth in a way that made it seem like he had no lips whatsoever, and took a deep breath. “We’re in my apartment. I heard rumors that you were staying at a hotel by Macy’s. After the cab that you were in pulled away, I watched it. I saw him turn to a street that was the complete opposite of where you were supposed to go. So, I decided to follow it. On a whim.”

“And?” I prodded.

“Well, I followed you throughout the streets. Once you passed 67th street, it was pretty obvious he wasn’t taking you to your hotel. So, I kept following. When he pulled into an alley, I stayed at the mouth, prepared to call for help. When I saw three men approach the cab, I looked around for anyone to help me. There was no one. So, once again on a whim, I ran straight towards them. I was scared out of my wits, until I saw you drop out of the cab, lifeless. Then, I had some sort of red in my vision. And then I remember hitting.” He stopped to wipe his face and smile. “Being hit. The second one was the worst. One of them, the one in the red beard, shoved me against the corner of a trashcan. That’s how I got this,” he said, pointing to the green bruise.

I hadn’t noticed that I’d sat up. Much less, I hadn’t noticed that I was leaning towards Dexter. What was up with me lately? But I had to know more. “And where’d you get this?” I asked, pointing to the gash.

Dexter winced in pain at the memory. “Well, when all three of them were a little loopy from being hit, I had the strength to pick you up and carry you away. Until the cab driver showed up in front of me with a box cutter and-“ Dexter was cut off by my gasp. He saved me. Where would I be now without him? Raped? Dead, maybe? The gray-ish tinge to the light that was filling the room told me it was nearing dawn.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Keep going.”

He eyed me worriedly, but kept going nonetheless. “Well, he came up to me with the box cutter, and I tried to run the opposite way. But as soon as I turned around, the other three were there, each with some sort of car repair instrument. So, I decided that the odds were better one to tone. So I sprinted towards him, expecting him to move out of the way. But he didn’t. So, I was forced with the decision of either dropping you while I was running, or risk you getting cut and maybe kidnapped completely by this guy. So I dropped you.” He paused and took my wrist. I noticed it was bandaged as well. “That’s where you got this. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” I said. “You made the best choice.”

Dexter nodded. “I kept running towards him. He did move a little in the end, but not without swiping the cutter towards my eyebrow. Blood flooded my vision immediately. I decided it would be a better tactic if I pretended to have passed out. So, I lay there, sprawled out on the floor. Watching them approach you again. The stuff they used on you must have been strong, because you were out for all that madness. So, I kept watching them. I noticed the cab driver had dropped his box cutter. So I got up and took it, and barreled towards them.” He stopped, pursing his lips and gulping.

“What did you do?” I asked. He looked up and gave me a pleading look. “Oh, Dexter. Please don’t tell me you killed them.”

“No, no.” Dexter waived his hands. “I just cut their arms. Enough to scare them away. I grabbed you and carried you throughout the back alleys. All the way back here.”

I looked down at my bandaged wrist and attempted to move it. The mere though made it throb painfully. “I wouldn’t do that,” Dexter said. “It’s probably broken or sprained.”

I nodded and stopped looking at my wrist. Instead, I watched the flames in the fireplace flicker. “Why did you do it?” I asked.

“Because of that,” Dexter said. “You ask ‘Why did you do it?’ not ‘Why didn’t you do it?’.”