Read Online The Hand of Mercy (A Porter Brown Journey) by Tobin Wells - Free Book Online
Authors: Tobin Wells
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never left Jim's torso. As if he could sense each move before it happened, Porter began his assault.
Porter stepped back one pace and let Jim's momentum throw his center of gravity forward. With a quick left step forward, Porter swung his right elbow in a round house fashion and met Jim’s nose, instantly shattering it. Crumpled on the ground and wailing in agony, Porter watched as blood flowed down and over Jim's mouth and neck. Beth wept, but did not come to Jim's aid.
It can’t be this easy , thought Porter. I didn’t even get to use my pipe. One punch had landed his foe on the deck. Wasn’t there supposed to be some sort of real struggle ?
The struggle would be moving Jim, who was writhing in pain directly behind Beth's car. Assured that Jim was debilitated, Porter bent over him and said, “Ok Jim, I need you to move ‘cause I’ve gotta drive Beth home. So get up or roll over there,” pointing to his left against the garage wall.
Anticipat ing no resistance from Jim, Porter was wholly surprised when Jim’s left foot connected with his ball sack. The excruciating pain provided Porter his opportunity to writhe on the deck. Fortunately for Porter, the kick was Jim's one last attempt to salvage his pride and nothing more.
F eeling like his balls were lodged in his rib cage and struggling to not throw up, Porter rolled over several times, willing himself to get up. That’s when he saw Beth, completely distraught at what had just happened in front of her. The man she loved, or so she thought, and the man who had come to rescue her, both on the ground because of her.
P orter struggled to his feet, then promptly doubled over and threw up. Jim still lay on the ground not able to focus as the searing pain from his shattered nose blurred his vision. Beth moved in and said sweetly, “Jim, honey, I need you to move.” Jim looked up with a look of resignation and moved to the wall. Porter slowly limped his way to the driver’s side door and slid in.
*****
Except for the occasional instruction on where to turn, Beth and Porter were silent on the drive to her house. Both were processing what had happened and what the future now held. Beth was living the complex internal torment abused women often feel; a sense of despair at what a life without Jim would be, and anguish for allowing herself to have been abused for so long.
Porter, aside from his testicular discomfort, felt exhilarated. Purpose like he had longed for but never known filled every aspect of his being. While looking out the driver's window, he smiled and said, "Remember who you are."
As the car stopped in front of Beth’s apartment, Porter put the car in park and looked at th e distraught woman. “Look, I know this has to be awful for you, but you know it’s the right thing to do. Right?”
Meekly, she whispered , “I know.”
“Then let’s get what’s yours and get you out of here. When Jim coll ects himself, I doubt he will be in a repentant mood. He won’t be sobered up and his pride is gonna be so wounded that he could be dangerous. I have a good friend who will for sure take you in for whatever time you need to get yourself set up with your own place.”
"Ok ," Beth said. "Most of my stuff is already packed."
"Really ?" asked Porter, quite shocked.
" Yeah. I've been thinking about leaving for a long time. Just never had the courage to do it."
Porter followed her up two flights of stairs and into her apartment. They dumped her remaining belongings into a duffel bag, picked up those already packed, and in twenty minutes were back on the road.
As the y drove to Connie’s place, Beth whispered to herself. Porter wondered what was moving from her mind to her lips. Prayers for guidance , he thought. Freedom from Jim's control would not mean immediate healing. His silent prayer was that some decent guy would enter her life and show her how a real man loves a woman.
In
Porter stepped back one pace and let Jim's momentum throw his center of gravity forward. With a quick left step forward, Porter swung his right elbow in a round house fashion and met Jim’s nose, instantly shattering it. Crumpled on the ground and wailing in agony, Porter watched as blood flowed down and over Jim's mouth and neck. Beth wept, but did not come to Jim's aid.
It can’t be this easy , thought Porter. I didn’t even get to use my pipe. One punch had landed his foe on the deck. Wasn’t there supposed to be some sort of real struggle ?
The struggle would be moving Jim, who was writhing in pain directly behind Beth's car. Assured that Jim was debilitated, Porter bent over him and said, “Ok Jim, I need you to move ‘cause I’ve gotta drive Beth home. So get up or roll over there,” pointing to his left against the garage wall.
Anticipat ing no resistance from Jim, Porter was wholly surprised when Jim’s left foot connected with his ball sack. The excruciating pain provided Porter his opportunity to writhe on the deck. Fortunately for Porter, the kick was Jim's one last attempt to salvage his pride and nothing more.
F eeling like his balls were lodged in his rib cage and struggling to not throw up, Porter rolled over several times, willing himself to get up. That’s when he saw Beth, completely distraught at what had just happened in front of her. The man she loved, or so she thought, and the man who had come to rescue her, both on the ground because of her.
P orter struggled to his feet, then promptly doubled over and threw up. Jim still lay on the ground not able to focus as the searing pain from his shattered nose blurred his vision. Beth moved in and said sweetly, “Jim, honey, I need you to move.” Jim looked up with a look of resignation and moved to the wall. Porter slowly limped his way to the driver’s side door and slid in.
*****
Except for the occasional instruction on where to turn, Beth and Porter were silent on the drive to her house. Both were processing what had happened and what the future now held. Beth was living the complex internal torment abused women often feel; a sense of despair at what a life without Jim would be, and anguish for allowing herself to have been abused for so long.
Porter, aside from his testicular discomfort, felt exhilarated. Purpose like he had longed for but never known filled every aspect of his being. While looking out the driver's window, he smiled and said, "Remember who you are."
As the car stopped in front of Beth’s apartment, Porter put the car in park and looked at th e distraught woman. “Look, I know this has to be awful for you, but you know it’s the right thing to do. Right?”
Meekly, she whispered , “I know.”
“Then let’s get what’s yours and get you out of here. When Jim coll ects himself, I doubt he will be in a repentant mood. He won’t be sobered up and his pride is gonna be so wounded that he could be dangerous. I have a good friend who will for sure take you in for whatever time you need to get yourself set up with your own place.”
"Ok ," Beth said. "Most of my stuff is already packed."
"Really ?" asked Porter, quite shocked.
" Yeah. I've been thinking about leaving for a long time. Just never had the courage to do it."
Porter followed her up two flights of stairs and into her apartment. They dumped her remaining belongings into a duffel bag, picked up those already packed, and in twenty minutes were back on the road.
As the y drove to Connie’s place, Beth whispered to herself. Porter wondered what was moving from her mind to her lips. Prayers for guidance , he thought. Freedom from Jim's control would not mean immediate healing. His silent prayer was that some decent guy would enter her life and show her how a real man loves a woman.
In
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