A Proscriptive Relationship

:A Proscriptive Relationship: 57-3

“You bitch,” he growled, pulling me closer to him.

Once again I brought my head back into him. He groaned in pain, letting me go for the second time. Without hesitating, I burst forward, heading towards the men surrounding Mr. Heywood. I shoved through them, throwing myself on top of Mr. Heywood. One of the men kicked my side, causing me to cry out in pain.

“Stop it!” I heard Shawn shout. “Don’t hit her!”

Immediately the men backed up, leaving me breathless on top of Mr. Heywood. He stared up at me, his eyes wide. Blood was tricking from the corners of his lips, and there was already a large bruise on top left of his forehead. He shut his eyes for a moment, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

“Move,” I heard Shawn order gruffly and a few seconds later there was a pair of legs in front of me. I looked up to see Shawn glaring down at me. “Get up, Holly.”

“No.”

“Now.”

I shook my head stubbornly, wrapping my arms around Mr. Heywood. “No.”

Shawn gave me a hard look. “Holly, either you move away from him, or you’re just going to have to be beat up with him.”

“I’m not moving,” I told Shawn, holding onto Mr. Heywood harder. “I’m not leaving Chris.”

Shawn glared at me for another moment before letting out a deep sigh. “Fine. I’ll tell them not to ruin your pretty face. Okay, boys?”

There was a low chuckle throughout the group surrounding us. I shut my eyes, dropping my head onto Mr. Heywood’s chest, preparing myself. The slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed calmed me.

“Holly,” he whispered in a pained voice. “Don’t—”

“I’m staying,” I responded stubbornly, feeling my eyes begin to burn. “This is my fault. I’m not letting you do this alone.”

There was the sound of shuffled footsteps as the men came closer to us. I held my breath, waiting for the pain. Before I felt any though, there was a low swear from Shawn. Mr. Heywood turned his head, a relieved expression coming onto his face. My first thought was that the police had come, and I just hadn’t heard their car. I turned too, letting out a sigh of relief. When my eyes landed on Jeremy, Lance, and two other men I didn’t know, my heart stopped.

Each of the men had a gun. Jeremy had his pointed at Shawn, Lance had his pointed at the man closest to me, and the other two men were alternating their gunpoint between the other gang members.

“Sorry I’m late,” Jeremy commented with a grin. “It took a little time to hunt down the backups.”

Mr. Heywood gave a low chuckle. “You made it just in time.”

“I thought you said the police were coming!” Shawn shouted at the man closest to me. “Not these guys!”

“Oh, the police are coming,” Lance assured Shawn. “But we were already five minutes away when we called them. No service,” he added when Mr. Heywood gave him an annoyed look.

I stared at Lance in alarm. Why was he here? Out of all the people in the world to being here, Jeremy brought Lance? Who had been attacked by Shawn before? Who had probably never held a gun in his life before? When Lance noticed I was staring at him, he sent me a small grin.

“Now,” Jeremy started in an authoritive tone. “Move away from Holly and Chris, or we’ll shoot.”

Immediately the men surrounding us moved backwards, putting up their hands in surrender. Shawn swore again, but also took a few steps away from us. Mr. Heywood gently pushed me off him, climbing to his feet. He then pulled me to my feet, holding me up until I gained my balance. I smoothed out my shirt, wincing as my hand brushed my now bruised side.