Off Sides

who it is. Ryan is pounding away at his face, over and over again. Blood and spit starts flying and I can see numerous cuts opening up on my attacker’s face. I’m frozen in place, watching Ryan punch the man over and over.
    Feet come running up the stairs and Mike is in the doorway. He flicks a glance at me, appraising the situation and mutters, "Fuck." He looks over at Ryan and just watches as he pounds away at my would-be-rapist. I hear the crunch of bone on bone and when Ryan pulls his fist back, I can see the guys nose squashed to the side of his face.
    Finally, Mike moves in and tries to pull Ryan off. Ryan whips around on Mike, rage turning his beautiful face into a mask of hatred and vengeance. He snarls, "Get the fuck off me," and goes back to pounding on the guy, who is now unconscious.
    "Ryan, you're going to kill the guy if you don't stop."
    He doesn't listen and his rage isn't diminishing. I start crying, strangely sick at the gruesome scene before me and oddly satisfied that Ryan is hurting this guy who came so very close to killing a part of me.
    Mike is yelling now and trying to grab Ryan again. "Ryan...do you want to go to prison? Get off of him. He's done."
    Mike's words do nothing to affect Ryan but when he says the word "prison" it jolts me into action. I can't have Ryan go to prison because of me.
    I jump off the bed and cross the room in two strides coming to stand in his line of vision.
    "Ryan," I say softly. "Please stop."
    And just like that Ryan stops and stands up from the guy. He is breathing harshly and his hands are covered in blood. More blood is spattered on his shirt. He turns my way and runs his gaze over me. He stares at my face and with a shaky hand, he gently brings it up to touch where I can feel my cheek starting to swell. But then he must see the blood all over his hand and drops it back down to his side.
    He looks lost and my heart breaks. I walk up to him and put my head on his chest. I wrap my arms around his waist and squeeze him hard. He doesn't respond at first and I start to panic. But then his arms come around me and he buries his head in my neck. I can feel him starting to shudder but then he pulls back abruptly.
    "Are you okay?"
    I nod, on the verge of a full meltdown.
    "Did he...?"
    "No! He didn't get a chance. He just...touched me."
    Oh God, he touched me. I can feel bile rising in my throat and run to the wastebasket. I make it in time and heave and heave until nothing more is left. I'm dimly aware of Ryan cradling me in his lap, stroking my hair, telling me it's going to be alright.
    ***
    The police and rescue squad are here. They've taken my attacker away. It turns out it was Ryan's teammate, Reece Malone. He was unconscious and badly beaten. I'm terrified he might die and Ryan could be in serious trouble.
    Ryan and I are both sitting in the back of an ambulance. An EMT is bandaging Ryan's hands and another is taking my vitals. I glance out the back doors and there is a huge crowd gathering. Ryan reaches across the space and links his fingers with mine. I squeeze back.
    The EMT is asking me questions and I try to focus. She's asking me if I need a rape kit and I can feel my bottom lip trembling as I shake my head no. She questions me about my injuries and I tell her about being dizzy and vomiting. She's afraid I may have a head injury and wants me to go to the hospital to get checked out. She said they'll also need to physically document my injuries for any criminal charges.
    I look over at Ryan in panic and he strokes his thumb lovingly over my hand. "It'll be okay, Danny. We need to take you to the hospital to get checked out."
    I nod, trusting in Ryan.
    At the hospital, they triage me fairly quickly and whisk me away for a CT scan of my head. Then they put me in a room where Ryan is waiting and I crawl onto his lap so he can hold me. The room we are in is depressing as hell. The walls are a dingy gray and are covered with old posters depicting different types of injuries. The smell of antiseptic is making me nauseous.
    As we are waiting for a doctor, a police officer comes to take my statement and he takes photos of my bruises. Apparently there is a long scratch across my lower back that I don't recall how I got, but he snaps a few pictures of it. I'm beyond humiliated.
    Before leaving, he tells us that he has to keep Ryan’s cell phone for evidence, as it appears that Reece used it to lure me to the frat house by posing as Ryan, texting me that he was