I awoke with a start. Someone was banging on the door. Hard.
“Jesus,” I mumbled. “What time is it?”
The clock on the nightstand confirmed it was just after three in the morning.
The banging persisted. Whoever it is, they want in.
I slide out from the warm covers and reach for a pair of jeans. Boxers. Anything. I fumble for the light switch before cracking open the door to peer outside. “Shit,” I think to myself. “I know these guys.”
Larry and his father push their way in.
“Where is she?” Larry demands.
“Where is who?”
“Don’t be a jackass. We know she’s been sneaking out at night. Her friend, Misty, suggested we check here.
“You’ve got quite a reputation in town,” Larry’s father accused.
“I’m sorry, sir. If you’re talking about Elsie, she did meet me several hours ago at the Century Club,” I replied, surprisingly calmly. “But we didn’t leave together.”
My composure was solid. I’d been expecting this confrontation. Elsie is an incredible girl, beautiful, witty and a sensational body. Yet, she’s also a nineteen-year-old Jehovah Witness girl. What’s a 22-year-old guy to do?
“She’s not here,” I finished. “Go ahead and look around.”
Larry is still visibly filled with rage, but I’ve denied him the satisfaction of venting it on me. His father looks resigned. Age and experience, I suppose.
I wouldn’t know. My veins are still pulsing from the intrusion. Yet somehow, I’ve never been so calm when confronted. I’m sizing them up. I’m twice Larry’s size, and his dad is... old. But, two against one? I’m not confident this will end in my favor if it escalates.
They both wander around the apartment. Larry peeks into the bedroom, but doesn’t go in.
“Larry, we’ve been looking for a while. Maybe we missed her, and she’s home now,” Larry’s father offered.
“Maybe.” Larry’s not convinced.
His dad turned to me, “Look here, you little shit, I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but if you ARE seeing my daughter, that ends now. Got it?”
I’ve been confronted like this before. I have to suppress my usual “shit-eating” grin, so I look down. “Yes sir,” I say.
“Good,” Larry says. “If we have to come back here...”
“Got it,” I said, not letting him finish. Now, I’m annoyed. It’s late. Irritation has replaced my tiredness. Who knows if I’ll be able to get back to sleep?
“She’s too good for you,” Larry’s father finishes.
“She is,” I agree. “And she’s not here. And I have to work in the morning, so I think you should leave.” My temper slipped a notch.
After one more cursory glance around the apartment, they both move towards the door. Slowly.
“You’re not to see her again. Remember that,” Larry said as I closed the door behind them.
As I slid the deadbolt, the adrenaline begins to subside.
Damn, there was nearly a fight. In my own place.
Damn.
There’s movement. From the shadows next to the bedroom window, she emerges, wrapped in a bedsheet. My god, she’s so beautiful.
“Elsie, honey,” I start. “We need to talk...”
Last Christmas