Free Stand Your Ground: A Novel by Victoria Christopher Murray

was.”
    “I already told you. She’s away from your fists.”
    He pressed his lips together like he was holding back words. Then he had the nerve to say, “Please tell her I asked about her.”
    “I’m not telling her a thing about you. If she’s lucky, she’ll die without ever hearing your name again.”
    That got to him, I could tell. But it got to me, too. I didn’t want to talk about death right now—not even with Raj.
    But it was just that I really didn’t like this man. He and I had fought a battle that he almost won. It had started because of my girlfriend Syreeta. I couldn’t even remember how many years ago it was when I introduced the two, but only months after the introduction, they’d become live-in lovers. That had lasted for years.Until their lovefest turned into some kind of boxing match that only Raj could win.
    I would never forget that first call.
    “Jan, please, come and get me,” Syreeta cried.
    “Ree! Where are you?”
    “At home. Raj got mad, and he hit me.”
    “Oh, my God,” I said, not able to believe it.
    “He beat me up,” she continued.
    “I’ll be right there.”
    I still had a couple of hours to go before I was supposed to get off from work, but I told my supervisor that I had a family emergency and she let me clock out. I raced to Raj’s apartment, and when I got there, I was shocked to see that my best friend had lied. Raj hadn’t beaten her up. He’d kicked her ass like she was a man.
    There had never been a time when I shook as much as I did when I helped Syreeta toss a couple of things into an overnight bag. I got her out of there, but then the next decision was where she would go. She didn’t want to come home with me, and I agreed, thinking that my home would be the first place Tyrone’s brother would look. Not that I ever thought Raj would go up against his brother; still, I didn’t want to take that chance. So we checked her into a Ramada Inn.
    When I was sure she was okay, I left her at the hotel and went home to find out from my husband what the hell was wrong with his brother.
    Tyrone was just as shocked as I was, though, and he kept asking me, “Are you sure?” as if I couldn’t trust my eyes.
    “I’m sure. And she needs to have your brother arrested.”
    Tyrone had called his brother, not reaching him until the next morning, when Raj told Tyrone that he was at the hotel, picking up Syreeta.
    “We just had a little lovers’ situation,” Raj had convinced Tyrone.
    Iwas shocked, until I spoke to Syreeta.
    “He said he’s sorry, and he won’t do it again.”
    “Syreeta, you know that’s not true.”
    “He means it. And I believe in giving everyone a second chance. I love him. And I know it won’t happen again.”
    I had prayed that night that Syreeta was right; it turned out that she was wrong.
    But even as I remembered that time and how awful it was, gazing at Raj now, standing in front of me with an expression that looked like I’d cut him, I wished I hadn’t talked about death.
    It was just that every time I saw this man, I wanted to hurt him. He’d caused so much chaos—not only with what he’d done to Syreeta, but also by what he tried to do to me . . . and Tyrone.
    “I’m sorry,” Raj said. “About everything, Jan, I’m really sorry.”
    I didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the grief that had my heart so hard. But all that came out of me was, “You’re right. You are sorry.”
    “You’re not going to give me a break, are you?”
    “No more than the breaks you gave to Syreeta. Let me see.” I held up my fingers as if I were about to count them off. “You gave her a broken nose, a broken arm, a broken—”
    “I’ll leave now.”
    I lowered my arms. “Do that.”
    He took a couple of steps away from me and turned back. “I’ve changed.”
    “I think Charles Manson says that every time he’s up for parole.”
    “Wow!” He shook his head. “Well, I’ve heard that you’ve changed, too. I guess that’s