Vigilante

  I don’t think most of us would even have thought of using what she showed us on our own.

  “As women, we are taught that physicality is masculine, and any woman who fights is vulgar. I’m telling you, as a physically strong, older woman, that it is okay for you to do whatever necessary to save yourself.” Detective Davies’s face was slightly flushed from demonstrating defensive moves. “If you can grab your attacker’s finger and bend it, or break it, do it. If you can gouge his eye, knee him in the groin or stomach, do it. Smash your head into his nose or mouth. Punch him in the throat. Hit him with anything you can get your hands on.

  “You’ve been told all your life not to hurt people, and now I want you to forget that. If someone is trying to hurt you, I want each and every one of you to do whatever necessary to escape. I want you to hurt back.”

  I wanted to applaud. I won’t lie. I wanted to hug her, even if she had let Mags down. I wish Magda hadn’t had to die for her to teach this class. If she had learned how to protect herself, maybe it would’ve helped. Then again, Drew Carson had drugged her, so she hadn’t had much fight in her anyway.

  I raised my hand.

  “Yes, Hadley?”

  “Can you show us how to get out of a pin? What if someone bigger than us has us pinned to the ground?” Or a bed?

  The older woman looked at me for a moment. She seemed...thoughtful. “I had planned on doing that in another class, but I can show you now, and we can work on it more later. Why don’t you come up here and help me?”

  I stood up. She’d used me for a lot of the class already, getting me to help her demonstrate different techniques as I was the only one there with a martial arts background.

  “Lie down on the floor on your back,” she instructed.

  I did. The mat was cool beneath my back. We may not have gotten into anything too vigorous, but I had still managed to work up a bit of a sweat. Detective Davies knelt in front of me and then braced her hands on either side of my head so that her hips were between my thighs and her torso had me pinned.

  One of the girls giggled. I rolled my eyes, a gesture that made my “attacker” smile. “Okay, you can see that I am bigger than Hadley. I’m taller and heavier, and I have gravity on my side. All I have to do is push or press down. To move me, Hadley has to exert force upward, so not only is she fighting my body weight and my strength, but she is also fighting gravity. Her shoulder blades are flat on the floor, which makes it even more difficult for her to escape. Now, what are things she can do to get out of this hold?”

  Her question was met with silence. I turned my head to the side and saw the four girls looking at each other, as though waiting for one of them to speak first.

  “Hey,” I said. “I’m your best friend, and we’re at a party together. You walk into a room and you see a guy trying to get my clothes off and rape me. You can’t attack him physically, but you can tell me how to hurt him. What do I do?”

  The girls had gone pale. They weren’t looking at each other anymore, they were looking at me.

  “See if you can work your legs under his,” Zoe suggested. “Then he can’t rape you, and you’re in a better position to knee him in the balls.”

  I did as she suggested, miming trying to knee Detective Davies between the legs. But as I did so, the woman quickly snapped her leg shut and shoved her knee between mine again. She was strong, and for a moment I was filled with an irrational fear of what she was going to do to me.

  The girls must’ve seen my fear because suddenly they jumped to life.

  “Bash his nose with your forehead!” Jenna yelled.

  “Punch him in the solar plexus!” another shouted. Anna, that was her name.

  “Gouge his eyes!” That was Zoe again.

  “Push your forearm into his neck so you’re shoving his head back, and then punch him in the throat with your other fist.” This was calmly delivered by the fourth girl, whose name I didn’t know, but whose face I would never forget. It was the face of a girl who’d been in this position herself and was only now realizing that she could’ve fought.

  Hers was the advice I took, pushing Detective Davies’s head back and mock punching her. She jerked backward, and I seized the opportunity to get my legs around her, lift up and flip her so that she was the one on her back and I was the one on top. Then, I pretended to punch her repeatedly in the face until she was unconscious.

  I met the gaze of that girl. “Thank you. You saved me.”

  I wasn’t prepared for the tears that suddenly appeared in her eyes. She nodded, blinking furiously to stop herself from crying. The other girls did a funny thing—instead of comforting her, they applauded—turning her from victim to hero. Her tears evaporated into a smile. It was a shaky smile, but it was still a smile.

  I climbed to my feet and offered Detective Davies my hand to help her up. She took it and gracefully rolled up onto her feet.

  “Well done,” she said. “You knew exactly what to say to them.”

  “I wish I hadn’t.” Our gazes met. “Known what to say to them, I mean.”

  She patted my shoulder. “Me too.” Then, she turned to the class. “I think that’s a good place to leave it for this week. We’ll meet again next Thursday at the same time. Feel free to bring a friend with you. Until then, feel free to practice what we went over. Although try not to actually hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it.” She smiled.

  The girls stood up. I approached the girl whose name I didn’t know. The one who had told me how to get out of Detective Davies’s hold. She had brown hair, and blue eyes that seemed to look right through me. “Hey,” I said. “I’m Hadley.”

  She nodded. “I know. I’m Caitlin. Thanks for setting this up.”

  I shrugged. “I didn’t really. Detective Davies did. It was her idea.”

  “Well, thanks anyway.” She turned to walk away.

  “Hey,” I called. She turned around. “Are you coming next week?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “You?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be here.” This had to be the most awkward conversation I’ve ever had. I felt so stupid. What had I expected? That we would be instant friends?

  Her smile was lopsided, and I think maybe a little sarcastic. “Well, see you then.” And then she walked away.

  “Hadley?”

  I turned. Zoe stood there with her friend Anna. “Did you like it?” I asked.

  The two of them grinned. “Yeah,” they chorused.

  “We’re going over to the frozen yogurt place,” Zoe said. “Do you want to come with us?”

  I meant to say no. No was what I’d said ever since Magda’s funeral. No, I didn’t want to hang out. No, I didn’t want to go to the dance. No, I didn’t want anything to eat. And no, I did not want to talk about it.

  “Sure. Are you going right now?”

  Zoe nodded. “Yeah. You can come with us, or you can meet us there if you have something to do.” She sounded almost as awkward and uncertain as I felt, which was strangely comforting. It struck me as odd that we seemed even more vulnerable after learning how to kick the shit out of somebody than we had before. Why was that?

  “I just have to grab my jacket.”

  “We’ll wait,” Anna blurted. She blushed. “If you want us to, that is.”

  At this rate, by next class we wouldn’t even be able to make eye contact. I felt myself smile, and not just because I wanted to put her at ease, but because I actually wanted to smile. I felt a strange tickle in my chest, like when your foot falls asleep and gets all prickly when the blood starts to circulate again. I hadn’t hung out with another girl since Magda. Since her suicide I’d been pretty antisocial. The only person I saw on a regular basis that wasn’t family was Gabe. Which reminded me I needed to go by the cemetery tomorrow after school.

  “I’ll just be a second,”
I said. “We can walk over together.”

  Anna actually clapped her hands. “Yay!”

  I laughed as I walked away. I thought this class would just be about violence. My experience with other girls was that once you put a group of them together they got all bitchy with one another. Maybe this class was going to be different. Maybe instead of fighting with each other we’d start fighting for each other.

  And God help any guy who got in our way.

  CHAPTER 5

  Gabriel was already at Magda’s grave when I got there on Friday. Like me, he must’ve come straight from class, because there was a backpack on the grass by her tombstone.

  He sat cross-legged on the grass, leaning back on his forearms as the afternoon sun shone down on his face. It was warm—even for September—and he’d taken off his jacket. His eyes were closed, so I just stood there for a moment and looked at him.

  I didn’t remember when my feelings for him had become something more than just friendship, but I know it had been at least a couple of years. I’d never told Magda that I had a crush on her brother. She would’ve found it weird. I found it weird.

  I don’t think there were many girls who would blame me for having a thing for him. He was gorgeous. But more than his looks, he was a good person. Strong and honorable. He could make me laugh—even after all that had happened.

  Finally, I decided to approach. If he opened his eyes and saw me standing there gawking at him, he’d think I’d gone nuts.

  “Hi.”

  He opened his eyes, squinting at me. “Hey. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to show.”

  “School only let out twenty minutes ago,” I told him. I put my bag beside his before plopping down on the grass on the opposite side of the tombstone. We both faced the same direction as the stone. It made it easier to pretend that Magda was between us rather than beneath.

  “Right.” He slipped on a pair of sunglasses that had been lying on the grass by his hip. “I forgot. How’s it going?”

  I shrugged. “Okay. It doesn’t seem right without her.”

  Gabriel stared straight ahead. “Nothing does. It’s getting a little easier, but that just makes it all the more painful when I remember she’s gone.”

  I didn’t say anything. I didn’t have to. He knew I felt the same way.

  “Diane Davies has started a self-defense course for girls.”

  He turned his head to look at me, but I couldn’t see his eyes behind the dark lenses. “The cop?”

  “Yeah. We had the first one Thursday night. She’s doing it at the dojo.” Gabriel had been the one to get me into aikido in the first place, but he hadn’t been there in a while.

  “You’re taking it?”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “I am. I thought you hated her. And you already know how to kick ass.”

  “I was mad that she couldn’t make the four of them pay for what they did. I guess now I know it wasn’t her fault—like you said.”

  “It’s good that she’s doing something. Did many girls show up?”

  “A few. Hopefully we’ll get more.” I plucked a blade of grass and shredded it between my fingers. “Jason Bentley’s having a party on Saturday night.”

  His back stiffened. The tightened muscles in his arms were like smooth stone beneath his skin. “Are you going?”

  “I don’t know.”

  This time when he turned his head his gaze lingered on me. “Yes, you do.”

  I don’t know how he did it, but he always seemed to know when I was lying. “Okay then, fine. I’m going.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if Drew Carson tries to drug and rape another girl, I want to be there to stop it.”

  “And just how do you think you can do that? Are you going to stand guard outside the bedrooms?”

  “If I have to.” My voice was sharp and belligerent.

  “What if he takes that as an invitation? What if the girl he targets is you?”

  “That won’t happen. I’m not going to let him get anywhere near me.”

  “That won’t matter if the four of them gang up on you. Even you’re not capable of fighting off four guys.”

  He was right, and I knew it. I also hated him for it. “I’m not going alone. I’m going with another girl.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  My heart jumped in fear. “No. You can’t do that. If you walk in there, the four of them and all their friends will jump you.”

  “My odds of not being raped are significantly higher than yours.”

  “My odds of not being beaten to death are significantly higher than yours. You can’t go.”

  “If you go, I’m going.”

  “You’re such an asshole.”

  He rolled onto his side so that he faced me, bracing himself on his forearm. “I could say the same thing. What are you thinking, Hadley? What are you planning to do that you don’t want me to know about?”

  Could he see the pulse at the base of my throat pounding beneath my skin? “Nothing. I’m not stupid.”

  “I know you’re not. Sometimes I think you’re too smart for your own good. Your intelligence isn’t the problem. Your impulsiveness is. Your anger is.”

  I snorted. “Don’t you lecture me on anger. I was there when you went after Drew. I know what you would’ve done to him if those guys hadn’t pulled you off. And I know what those guys would’ve done to you if there hadn’t been an audience.” I remembered how bruised and bloody he’d been, and how much worse Drew had looked. Most people went through life not knowing whether or not they could kill somebody, but Gabriel knew.

  “You’re not going without me.”

  “Fine. I won’t go.”

  “Good.”

  We stared at each other, his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. I was lying, and he probably knew it, but I was still going to try to sell it. If he was stupid enough to show up knowing what would happen to him, then let him. Him getting beaten up was more of a given than me being attacked.

  We sat there in silence. Usually, we spent the time talking. Mostly we talked about Magda, but sometimes we talked about other things. This was the first time that neither of us had anything to say.

  A little while later Gabriel rolled to his feet. “I have to go to work.” He brushed grass off his jeans and picked up his backpack.

  I stood as well. “Gabe...”

  He looked at me. “Yeah?”

  “I...I don’t like feeling like you’re mad at me.”

  His shoulders slumped. He dropped the backpack on the grass again and stepped across his sister’s grave to stand directly in front of me. I wasn’t prepared for him to wrap his arms around me and pull me close. He smelled like sunshine and fabric softener with a touch of sandalwood. I wound my arms around his waist, pressing my hands against his back. Holding him was like holding strength. I could feel it seeping through my clothes, slipping beneath my skin and into my bones. The sadness and helplessness that usually threatened to overwhelm me disappeared. I couldn’t even find any anger in my heart.

  He rested his cheek against my head. “Please stay away from those guys. I can’t lose you too.”

  Tears burned my eyes, but I blinked them away. I wasn’t going to cry on him again, and I wasn’t going to let him see how much his words affected me. I couldn’t let him see my feelings for him, because I was his little sister’s best friend and I knew the love he felt for me was only friendship. I didn’t want to lose him. He wasn’t just all I had left of Magda. He was all I had left period.

  * * *

  Like most of the wealthier families in our town, the Bentleys lived on Smith Street. It might have a common name, but Smith Street was one of the oldest streets in town. You could tell how old the houses were by how t
hey were built. The newer houses were large and sprawling, usually white or bluish gray. The older houses—the ones that had been there for a century or more—were red brick or gray stone. The Bentleys lived in a house that was brick that had been stuccoed over.

  Zoe and I arrived there around ten o’clock Saturday night. I didn’t live on Smith Street, or anywhere near it. My family lived in one of the newer suburbs of town. My mother was an accountant and my father was an engineer. We weren’t poor, but we weren’t the Bentleys. Mags and I were top of our class in our old school, and we were able to get scholarships. Our parents somehow managed to scrape together the rest of the money for tuition. Magda’s grades had slipped after the rape—to the point where the school was going to kick her out. Her suicide saved them the trouble, the unfeeling bastards.

  “Are you ready to do this?” Zoe asked. “I mean, it’s gotta be painful.”

  I wanted to say that sometimes pain was better than feeling nothing, but that was really so melodramatic. I shrugged. “It’s okay.” I didn’t know what I hoped to accomplish by going to that damn party. Maybe it was penance for letting Magda down. Maybe I wanted to show that I wasn’t afraid. Maybe I thought I could possibly stop another girl from being raped. Maybe I just didn’t want to sit home alone.

  We walked up the flagstone path. Zoe had driven and promised me she wasn’t going to drink. It was a relief to know that I probably wouldn’t have to worry about her. Unfortunately, I still had to worry about pretty much every other girl there.

  It was a warm night, and I was wearing cropped jeans and a blouse. I didn’t wear dresses or skirts anymore.

  We rang the doorbell. We could hear the music inside the house. It was loud, but not so loud that the neighbors would call the police. Not that it would matter if they did. The Bentleys, the Weeks, the Henrys and the Carsons were important families, which apparently entitled them to behave in ways that would get the rest of us in trouble. They were exempt from any kind of responsibility, and that extended to their sons.