Ace spots me and walks over to me. "Hey Thumper. What you doing here?" he asks.
"I'm meeting up with Heather. I need to talk to her about something, and she said that she wanted to talk to me also. How did she do?" I ask.
"Yeah, I heard about your little fuck up...inviting her to go watch a fight. Dumbass. I'll tell you, she did fucking great today. She hit every fucking target like it was nothing. There is something about her though, something familiar that I can't quite put my finger on. I don't know. Anyway, she did really good and she'll be back in a couple of days so we can see how she does on moving targets." he says, with a slight frown.
"Lucky for me she declined the invite so I'm off the hook on that. But hey, that is really good about her shooting skills. Maybe she'll do better at weapons than she did the physical training. It was just too much for her and she wasn't able to get the hang of it." I said.
"Well, looks like she is coming back out. I'll catch you later." he said, as he walked back towards the 'showroom'.
I saw Heather coming towards me, so I pretend to be checking something out on my phone. Can't have her thinking that I was bored while waiting for her, can I? I look up at her, and all I can think is how very beautiful she is. She is wearing very light makeup, which is a huge change from the girls I usually find myself drawn to. She starts talking, but I swear I can't hear the words because I am too busy just staring at her plump mouth. I wonder if she is a good kisser. I bet her lips are as soft as they look. Pay attention, Tyson! This girl is just talking and looking at you. Geez!
"I'm sorry, what did you say? I must've spaced out or something." I finally manage to say.
"I was just saying that I am very sorry for keeping you. I'm sorry you had to wait on me." she said, looking as though she may cry.
"Oh. I wasn't waiting long enough to worry about. Plus, Ace and I got to catch up a little. Something that I don't get to do that often. So, really I should be thanking you for not finishing up sooner." I tell her.
"Oh, okay then. I was worried because you didn't say anything, and just kept staring at me. I was just worried is all." she smiled and said...yes, actually smiled at me. "Is it alright if we still talk today? I'm sure you're very busy so if we need to wait, then it's okay."
"Nope. My schedule is free for the rest of the day. Should I start or do you want to go first?" I ask her. Hoping that she will go first because I suck at starting serious conversations.
"I will go first, if that is okay." she said, pulling her hands into her lap. I can tell that she is starting to stress a little, so I tell her to take her time and that I will listen patiently to her. "I will start from the beginning. When I was almost 4-years old, my mom met and married my step-dad. I never knew my real dad, and my mom always told me that he was a military man. Apparently, they met right after he got out of basic training and was sent to the Marine facility in California where she lived with my grandfather. She was part of the 'Welcoming Committee' for the facility, so that is how she met him...when he moved into the housing complex there. She later told me that it was a one-night stand, and the next week her dad was reassigned so they moved. She never saw him again, but told me his name is Henry Randall. Anyway. My step-dad had a son that came along with the deal, and I was so happy to have a sibling even if he was older than me by a few years. One day, when I was 9, Jacob had to babysit me for the day so our parents had a bunch of errands to take care of. I was alone in my bedroom, coloring with my art set, when he walked it and grabbed my arms and threw me onto my bed. That was the first time he raped me. He threatened to kill my mom if I ever told anyone, so I kept quiet. He continued to treat me like his personal sexual and verbal punching bag every day after that. When our parents died, I had just turned 15. They died in a car wreck while coming home from the grocery store. From that day on, Jacob kept me as a prisoner in our house. His abuse became even more physical. I wanted to die. Every single day, I prayed that he would kill me and put me out of the misery that I lived in. He would call me useless, worthless, disgusting, ugly, pathetic and a whore. He would starve me for days, and only feed me when he felt like I was on the verge of death. About four months ago now, he was beating me and I was screaming loudly in hopes that someone would come save me. My wish came, but not before he put me in a coma and in fact almost killed me. My savior was the mailman. If it wasn't for him, I would probably be dead. When I woke at the hospital, Milly was the first one to greet me. She told me how she was bringing me far away from Jacob, and that I would never have to worry about him touching me again. I've been too scared to agree to testify in court against him, because I'm afraid that he will send people after me. He said that he would if I ever escaped, but I don't know if that is true or not. So, that is my story, Tyson." she finished, tears streaking down her cheeks.
"That is a lot to have to deal with, Heather. I'm really sorry that you had to live through all of that." I say. "You used my real name. I usually don't like it, but hearing you say it makes it sound pretty fucking good." And oh shit! Did she say her dad's name is Henry Randall? "Did you say that your dad's name is Henry Randall?" I ask.
"Yes. Yes I did." she says, lifting her eyes to mine in curiosity.
"Woman, today is your lucky day. I know Henry Randall, and so do you." I say, standing up with a smile plastered on my face.
Looking completely confused, "You do?" she says.
"Yes ma'am, I do." I say, reaching out for her to take my hand. "And I'm about to take you right to him."