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killed my father. It was a slap in the face.
    I scooted out of the little shorts and slipped on some pants then waited downstairs. In the distance, I heard the deep grumble of an engine and I knew Richard was close. He always had to be the loudest.
    A doorbell rang out and I opened the door and allowed him in. The smell of liquor permeated from him and by the way he swaggered, I knew that he was already drunk.
    "Hey baby," he leaned forward to kiss me and I wasn't fast enough. I grabbed his hand led him to the couch. As soon as we sat, his hands were all over my body, rubbing over my breasts while he leaned over to try to kiss me again. His large frame practically pinned me to the sofa. I attempted to push him off so we could talk, but he was too heavy.
    "Richard. Stop it."
    He pulled back and looked at me with want and lust in his eyes. The man in front of me was not the man I fell in love with right after high school. I had no clue who he was anymore.
    "Can we talk first?" I tried to keep my tone sweet and playful because I didn't want to make him angry. I needed him to understand me.
    "We can talk then we fuck," he said.
    I had to stay calm. He leaned back on the couch and rested his hands behind his head.
    "I've been thinking about us lately."
    Richard turned his head and looked at me. Regardless of the alcohol that swam with his blood, he knew I was being serious.
    "I don't think it's working anymore. I love you, I really do, but it's not the same. You need help. Your addiction—."
    "What the fuck, Chelsea?" He was instantly angry. His temper frightened me and no matter how calm I tried to stay, at that moment, I was scared.
    "I'm breaking up with you, Richard."
    "No, you're fucking not," he said, moving toward me.
    I tried to stand and he yanked me back on the couch. "Now you promised we'd fuck." He stood up, pinning me to the couch with his knee as he unbuttoned his pants.
    "No." I forced out the word. The pain from his weight was almost unbearable, but I found enough strength to kick him with my other leg. He unsteadily fell on the coffee table and a flower arrangement fell to the floor causing a loud crash.
    "What the fuck is going on down here?" Max was furious, enraged. I looked up at my knight in a t-shirt and blue jeans.
    Richard stood and made a low growling noise. "Fuck you, pretty boy."
    Max picked up his phone and waited. "I'd like to file a report. There is an intoxicated man at my house. I live at 4679 Sunset. He's driving a black lifted truck," Max said. He walked to the front door and read the license plate number.
    Richard moved toward me and grabbed my arm. He squeezed so tight that my bicep felt like it was being ripped from the bone.
    "Please, please let go of me." Begging wasn't below me. I was breakable and knew that.
    Once Max hung up the phone, he stopped at nothing. He pushed Richard with every bit of strength he had. Richard fell to the ground knocking a shelf of glass trinkets to the ground. The glass shattered to pieces.
    My back pressed against the wall and I waited for it all to stop. Minutes later, loud pounding on the door echoed through the room and was accompanied by the sounds of fists hitting skin. I rushed to the door and opened it.
    It had all happened too fast. The police officers rushed in and broke them apart, holding the two at a distance away from one another. Another police car arrived with its lights flashing. Two more officers came bustling into the house.
    A blonde cop came to me asking me what had happened and if I were okay. I glanced over at Richard, a drunk mess, then looked over at Max. His lip was busted and cheek pink from the fight.
    This was my fault. I should have known better.
    Richard was handcuffed and escorted outside. I watched over the woman's shoulder as they placed him in the back of the car and drove away. It happened so quick then so slow, all at once.
    "Are you okay?" Max asked.
    I was in shock.
    "Did he hurt you?" Max looked worried.
    I didn't realize I