Let's Get It On by Cheris Hodges

his chest, trying to free herself from Damon’s clutches. But he wasn’t letting her go and began pulling at her clothes.
    â€œStop it! Let me go!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. “Get your hands off me!”
    Damon threw her down in the sand. “Shut up, bitch,” he said as he unbuckled his belt. Kenya kicked him in his groin, temporarily stunning him. She struggled to push him off her. Then, lightning quick, Damon was snatched off her. With her eyes closed, she could hear sounds of a struggle and fists hitting flesh. She was afraid to move, afraid to open her eyes, because she didn’t know what she was going to see. Was Damon overpowering her savior? Was she going to be in even more danger?
    â€œKenya? Kenya, are you okay?” Maurice asked.
    She opened her eyes and threw her arms around his neck. “Oh my God.”
    Maurice lifted her from the sand. “Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?”
    She shook her head. “But if you hadn’t gotten here when you did . . .” Her voice trailed off.
    â€œLet me take you back to the hotel, and we can call the police.”
    â€œJust get me out of here.” Her lips grazed his ear, and her voice sounded as fragile as a wounded bird’s chirp. Trembling against his chest, Kenya held his neck tightly as if she were a vise. She didn’t feel the sand that dropped from her dress, because her body was numb. Did she have victim tattooed across her forehead in ink, which only men with bad intentions could see?
    Why was I so stupid? she thought as Maurice set her down before they entered the hotel. Though her knees were shaking, she wanted to walk.
    Maurice wouldn’t let go of her hand, and with his other hand, he stroked her back comfortingly. Once they entered the lobby, Kenya realized that she didn’t want to be alone right now.
    â€œDon’t tell me you’re okay, because I know you’re not,” Maurice said, holding her tightly. He stroked her hair, brushing the sand from it.
    Her silence spoke volumes, and without even asking, Maurice led her to his room. Nervously, she chewed on her full bottom lip, torn between her gratitude to him for saving her from sexual assault and her anger with him. In reality, Kenya was no longer angry with Maurice, and if she was honest with herself, she would forgive him. How could she not? She had put her love life on hold, keeping on ice that part of herself that Maurice had hurt. Never had she thought they’d have a second chance, and never had she thought he would save her.
    Turning and facing him, she stared thoughtfully into his eyes. “I should’ve listened. But I was just hoping that you were jealous and trying to stop me from having a good time.”
    Laughing softly, he placed his hand on her shoulder, which was trembling. “I was jealous. But I had gotten a vibe from him that I didn’t like. Nothing happened, did it?”
    She ran her hand across her face. “No, but not from his lack of trying. What is it about me that men see and try to take advantage of?” Focusing her stare on him, Kenya really wanted that question answered.
    Stroking her cheek, Maurice stared back. His eyes were blank, as if he knew he was one of the men she was talking about. She moved out of the way of his hand, no longer wanting to be touched.
    â€œMaybe I should go back to my room,” she said.
    â€œDoes that creep know where you’re staying?”
    â€œHell no. I’m not that stupid.”
    â€œNo one is calling you stupid, but from . . . never mind.”
    Bristling like a cat that had been rubbed the wrong way, Kenya lashed out at him angrily. “I know you saved me from him, but by no means do you have the right to judge me. I made a mistake. I seem to do that with all the men I chose, including you.”
    â€œCan we take this beef between us and grill it? What happened to us happened a long time ago, and I don’t know