Tomorrow may never come

Troubadour

Liam's POV

I don't know what to feel.

After all the details of the r**e, the rescue and the treatment that Cat had to endure were all shared to me.  I offered my shoulder as she cried.  I could never imagine how a girl like her could be unfortunate enough to undertake such a heinous act.  She was such a sweet and feisty young woman.  To be morally degraded by those monsters was really heart wrenching.  

I want to kill someone.

I placed the glass of beer to my lips.  I feel so useless.  I knew I shouldn't feel this way since I only knew about Cat these last few days but what I did know about her, I was hooked.  I mean, I have seen a lot of beautiful women and even those few were interesting enough.  Now why would I be drawn to Cat who was like every other beautiful woman I've ever met?

I want to go to the police precinct and beat the crap out of those rapists.  I want to hunt down his sister for putting her in danger like that.  I want to strangle that James guy for letting a girl like Cat be used like a maid and then be unfaithful towards her.  I want to knock some sense onto that girl Janine for calling Cat a slut just because of her jealousy.

I drank some more beer.

What can I do to help her?  I mean, I'm just a guy.  She might feel uncomfortable with me after what she'd been through.  I was afraid I might do something that will trigger something in her.  But she was the first woman I had an interest in since forever.

I still remembered what my mother taught me.  I was to always treat women with respect regardless of race, beliefs or association.  Some of my friends would call me an old stuck up woodblock but I loved my mother so I do try to follow her instructions.  I show my respect to my mother, my cousin, my female classmates and teachers.  I was always courteous and most of the people I know were amazed at how righteous I could be.  Tamara would tease me non-stop about it.

Tamara never knew why I moved out after my mother died.  She only knew that I had inherited the business from her and that I wanted to be independent from my father.

The truth was, I wanted to get away from my stepmother.

When my mother died, my insufferable father did not even waited a month of mourning before marrying some socialite that he had hooked up in a party.  He explained that he wanted me to grow with a woman's touch.  Or so he thinks.  When that woman entered my home, I knew that I could never treat her like what my mother wanted me to do with a woman.  She kept on touching me in a suggestive manner.  How do I know it was suggestive?  Well how can a thirteen year old boy take a bath when his stepmother would barge into the bathroom and try to bathe him?  Or like when he is busy doing his business on the bathroom and she would just use the house keys to open it and ogle him?

I knew that there might something more to come so I put my foot down and demanded from my dad to allow me to move out of the house.  I knew that things might be over dramatic from other's perspective but I knew that if I stayed there, I might be experiencing some of what Cat had to go through.  Our choices limited to surviving or enduring.  So I chose to survive and fend for myself.

At first, it was problematic.  What with balancing the business and studying but I loved every minute of it.  I was free from my father's restrictions and my stepmother's s****l innuendos.  I was doing the things I only thought of doing, the only problem was I can't speak in front of beautiful women.  The whole stepmother harassment made me conscious of talking face to face with women.  Tamara helped me to at least manage my fear.  I was able to look them in the eyes now.

And now this.  

A girl that I was interested in was traumatized by someone other than me.

I don't know if I'm qualified to be with her but I really want her to be the one.  I don't know, she might be the loveliest girl I have ever seen but that is not the only thing that connects me to her.

Strength

Fortitude

Courageous

I had heard dozens of stories of girls who underwent such things who had killed themselves because of how degraded they felt, how they felt used.  When I heard those stories, I pitied those girls.  I thought what a waste of life.  I wanted to open a foundation that could help those people like her.  At least help those that were left behind.

Now that I have met, seen and be interested in the same type of girl, I can't help but feel useless.  If only I had met her earlier, she might have been safe.  If only I did not ignore nonexistent girls from school, they might have survived being traumatized.  Some are considered scum for objectifying females and would make uncalled for judgments against others without getting to know them.  I'd like to think that I'm not one of them.

But I am no one's savior.  When I experienced those things with my stepmother, no one was there to help me.  How can I expect myself to do otherwise.  I worked to make myself stronger.  My cousin was my foundation and Cat revealed to me a while ago that Tamara was the same to her.  She became our pillar of support.  

I drained the glass and placed it back on the table with a thump.  I guess it's time I get to be Cat's pillar.

*****

I drove to Cat's house which was only a few miles from the bar I had been.  I looked at the facade of the house and saw how lonely it looked outside.

She had been lonely for almost years now.  I know she is independent, feisty and can hold her own.  She was kind, considerate and always lends a helping hand.  She was r***d but instead of killing herself, she focused on moving forward.  That was how strong she was.  I know she might not want male contact after what she has been through but I know one day she will and I want to be there for her.

I opened the car door and got out of the car.  Damn, I forgot to bring flowers.  I chuckled when I pulled out a Snickers chocolate bar from my glove compartment.  I guess this will do.

I knocked on her door and waited patiently for her to answer.  A few scrapes can be heard as she undid the lock.  She opened it and gazed up at me, her eyes swollen and she smiled weakly.

Honey, I'm home.