tagLesbian SexProtecting Marcus

Protecting Marcus


Author's Notes:

In this story, I thought I would try something a little different. I don't know if it is going to work or not, but here it is. What I am attempting it to do; is interweave both of the main character's perspective in a way that I hope gives a fuller story. I know there can be some confusion when you switch the point of view, so I am going to try and mark it in a way to avoid this. Let me know if I have achieved my goal. Some people have suggested that my stories belong more in the Romance or the Novella section. That is true to an extent. Yes, they are longer love stories more than sex stories. But this one does deal with lesbian love, so I will leave it here.

Please remember this is a copyrighted work, intended for mature adult audiences, and all legal disclaimers apply. All constructive comments are welcome and please vote.



Let me get one thing straight from the start. I'm not black, Afro-American or a ghetto-gurl... I am a woman of color and damn proud of it. My ancestors were from Europe, just like most of those pasty faced elitists you'd meet. My family originated from Spain. We're what are known as the Moorish Spaniards. Our skin is a deep rich coco brown, and our hair isn't kinky and tends to hang in ringlet curls. We have wide faces with patrician features. My eyes are golden brown and I can carry myself with the willowy elegance of a model when necessary.

Not that I have anything against my brothers and sisters of color from Africa, Jamaica, Australia or wherever they come from. I believe it is more important to know who you are, rather than where you came from. Take me for instance.

I hate it when people come up to me and start talking in all that ghetto trash, street slang. It doesn't make you look or sound tough, nor does it impress me. It makes you look uneducated. I don't know about you, but I'm proud of my college education. I can speak formally in three different languages. I don't need to butcher the English or any other language to make a statement or be heard. And no, I haven't sold out to the "man"... please, save me from those idiots!

I'm Trish by the way. Actually Patricia Ellen Hafez, I have a normal family with an older brother and younger sister. My parents worked very hard to ensure we all got the opportunity to finish college and take advantage of the great American dream. My brother, Alonzo, is an engineer, who married his college sweetheart and is doing his best to continue the species, giving our mom as many grandkids as she can spoil.

My sister, Sheila, is finishing school, trying to see how many hearts she can break as she wanders through the male population. She's not a slut, not by a long shot. I don't think she's had sex with more than two or three people. That's the problem. She's this hot sexy little number, with an athletically tight body, who knows how to say no. She'll settle down with some nice man when she's about thirty or so. She's not in a rush. Sheila wants to enjoy life to the fullest before she makes her contribution to the population.

That leaves me. To be completely honest, I've never dated a guy in my life, never plan to either. Oh I've been hit on, begged, and even bullied. But, guys have never flipped that trigger, if you know what I mean. To me, that thing they have dangling between their legs looks like a big ugly worm. And yes, I've gone fishing and hooked my own worms. Think of a six gauge hook piercing your little wobbly the next time you want to swing that thing in my direction... anyway....

Women look so much better. They don't have to have bulging muscles, or have their intelligence drop to their crotch when confronted by a future mating prospect. So what, I missed my prom.... I had a really important math final I had to study for. Yeah that's me, the studious one. School held more importance than a social life.

Besides, give me a firm curvy woman and watch me drool. For me, there was no experimentation. I've always known I like girls more than guys. Girls are so sexy. They know how to dress and how to act. Well, most of them. And yes, before you ask. I've had a few lovers, but I hadn't met anyone who could hold my heart... yet. And no, I'm not into the whole casual lifestyle scene. All that bar hopping and silly games. I have no time for it. I'm too busy working. I've worked too hard to become a top Hospital Administrator, with her PhD in Social Welfare to spend untold useless hours in those kinds of meat markets.

Yeah, I'm a Social Worker... But, I'm also the boss of all those stuck up doctors strutting around like kings. It's great. Oh sure, the hours suck and the work is hard, but it's like my father always said. "If it was fun, then they would call it play." Very intelligent man, my father.

Okay, now that we got all that sorted out, I can get on with this story. Where was I? Oh, yeah! I was telling you how I found the love of my life. I was working in my office when I got the call.


"Trish, there's a victim in ER that needs your attention." David, my assistant told me over the intercom.

"Okay; do we have a history yet?" I asked, gathering what I'd need to do the intake interview. We're always short on social workers on staff, so I'm always on call when they can't find anyone else available in emergencies.

"Um, let me look..." David replied, "The nurse says, she won't talk to any of the men, is all I got. I'm also supposed to warn you... she's a mess, so don't be shocked by what you see. She came in as an accident victim."

"Okay... I got it. I'll be down in ten minutes. Call down and see if Liz Jensen is on for security. If she is, post her at the door until I get there." I ordered as I pulled on my blazer over my blouse. This wasn't the first time, and I knew it wasn't going to be the last time; I dealt with the tragedies of humanity. It was part of the job.

I prepared myself for the worst as I rode the elevator down to the first floor. I ignored the eyes that always followed me as I walked through the hallways. I've become accustomed to it. All the employees know who I am and what I do. Even the prideful doctors knew they could look, but I'd have their ass if the ever crossed the line. It's kind of funny. I would know who to look at after one of my walks through the hospital. The guilty ones always gave themselves away.

My heels clicked as I walked down the polished tile hall, following the quickest route to where I was needed. As I turned the corner into back half of the ER, I entered bedlam. A woman was screaming and the doctors and nurses were trying to deal with the hysterical woman.

"Where's my son! Don't touch me... help me please... where's my son...!" She screamed, as Dr. Well called for the medical restraints. I took a few seconds to scan the scene, before I took control.

"Dr. Wells..." I called out to get his attention. "What's going on?" I demanded.

"They said she was stable, then she..." The young doctor snapped. "Hold her down before she hurts herself more." He ordered a male nurse. "She has gone into hysterics.... Hold her down damn it! She might have internal injuries...." He attempted to control the situation. I realized if this was my client, he was going about this the wrong way.

"All the men out of the room now...!" I ordered as I came closer. "Dr. Wells... call Dr. Martin! She's on call for surgery. Get her down here STAT!" I unbraided the males who were in the room impartially. "No males in here without my orders.... Ma'am... You need to calm down... they're leaving...." I told the thrashing woman. "Sally I want you in here now." I called down to the nurses' station calling on the one senior nurse I knew on shift.

Sally came running, as I pushed the men out of the room. "Make sure her IV is secure, and get her to calm down some more until Dr. Martin gets here." I told the little no nonsense nurse, and then focused on the young man in front of me. "Dr. Wells with me...!" I walked away, knowing he had no choice in following. I didn't even try and take in the carnage of the bloody woman in the bed.

Dr. Wells started sputtering. "Mrs. Hafez, she's my patient, I need to..."

"You need to leave her alone. You're just making it worse... can't you tell that she's having an autonomic fear response. You should've called for a female doctor right away...."

"Look Trish... I know you're a social worker and all... but I'm...."

"And one of your bosses... so, I'd stop and think, before you say another word." I told him before he said something I'd have to fire him for. He was a good doctor, dedicated and all that. But unfortunately somewhere in med school, like most of them, he lost what little common sense he had. "If she wasn't stabilizing, Sally would've let us know by now. Who brought her in?" I took control of the conversation.

"I don't know. I just came on... I was trying to asses her condition when she went into hysterics." He raked his hand through his already thinning hair

"I was told she had problems with men... where's her son?" I cut him off before he could try and take over. I knew how to handle his sort.

"I don't know I wasn't..." He tried to defend his inaction.

"Find out...! I need to talk with Dr, Martin...." I dismissed him and walked back toward the crying woman, when a stout woman in scrubs came rushing up.

"I was told you needed me Trish!" Like everything Dr. Pat Martin did, it was a statement, not a question.

"Yes Pat, I have a case I need you on... Don't know if she needs surgery, but you're the only woman on right now... Sorry if I disturbed your nap..." I told her as we walked into the room again.

Sally was stroking the weeping woman's arm, as she checked her vitals and looked at the IV monitor. "She keeps going on about her son and that it wasn't an accident. Her vitals are stabilizing, but..." She said as soon as she seen the doctor.

"Okay Sally, stay here, Trish; call up to six and tell them to get a room ready... I'd bet my favorite scalpel, she has internal injuries..." Dr Martin said as she took over the examination. Looking down at the woman strapped to the back board, she added.

"Hi sweetheart, I'm Dr. Martin... This is Sally and Trish. We'll take good care of you... I need you to try and relax... we can take care of the rest, once we know you're doing okay. You've had quite a shock. I don't want you to hurt yourself anymore."

"Where's my son... Don't let him get him... He'll kill him...! I need to know my son is okay... I don't care if I die, don't let him get him." The injured woman pleaded, as the doctor and nurse assessed her condition.

Looking without flinching, I asked from the door, staying out of the way. "What's his name, and are you married? Was he with you?" I tried to get the information I needed to do my job. The poor woman had calmed down quite a bit, but was still close to hysterics.

"Marcus... he's at the babysitters, but he knows where that is. He'll take him away and I'll never see him again... Please...? I have a restraining order, but..." She babbled out between gasps

"Okay... I need to know where...." I asked, looking at the security guard who was now standing outside of the door, and added. "Liz, call the police... I'm going to need an emergency pick up." I wrote as fast as I could. "No one and I mean no one, takes that kid without a court order. Have him brought here... I'll call the judge... Ma'am, I need the address and his full name?"

"Marcus Donald Mel'ak, He's at my sister's house... 2667 Summer Hill Drive... He'll take him overseas. He's...." She started breathing easier and her voice lost the hysterical edge.

"She's fading.... Liz, Trish, time for all that later. I need to get her into a room now." Dr. Martin ordered as she unlocked the wheels and started moving the bed.

"Stay with me sweetheart... we've got you...." She told the injured woman, and then ordered. "Sally, call up and get them moving...."

"Yes Ma'am" Sally responded automatically.

"Sweetheart, I know you hate men right now, but we'll not let them hurt you..." Pat reassured her patient. "I don't have an all woman crew, but we'll be there... Shit! I knew it, let's go!" She ordered as we all took a corner and headed toward the elevators.

As we rushed through the halls, I called out to one of the orderlies... "I need all her personal stuff on six.... Pat, I'm going to be in your office, buzz me when you know anything. What are her chances?"

"Don't know until I open her up and see what's wrong..." The surgeon told me. "I'll need whole blood and plasma... call that in first, before you get buried in the legal stuff... Do we have consent to treat...? What the hell is her name anyway?"

"Don't know... Chart says Bethany Williams... Don't know if she goes by Beth or what... She's focused on her son... She was unconscious but stable when she came in... then shift change... Dr. Well's didn't have a chance to complete an exam..." Sally said, as she expertly guided the big bed into the elevator. "BP is dropping... 90 over 65... pulse is 110 but still strong..."

"We'll remove the CV collar before anesthesia, did they get a full set of X-rays... have them sent up... Bill Patterson is on... he should be in the office, or chasing that OB nurse on seven. Have some people ready to clean her up... I need to know what's bleeding and what's bluster. They can do that while I scrub up. Trish, call down and have them cover for Sally, she's staying with me." Pat issued her orders, focusing on what she needed to save the woman's life.

"Okay, has she been typed and crossed?" I asked taking notes. After you've worked in a hospital for awhile, you get used to the rhythm.

"Chart lists AB positive...." Sally answered automatically.

"Two unit's blood and two of plasma; we'll start with plasma. Have them stand-by with more... Hopefully, we won't need it... How old is she...?" the doors opened and they whisked her into the Operating Room. "Remember call in the blood first... then the legal stuff... Get her kid here if you can... as soon as you do, let me know... It will help and she might need all the help she can get." She walked away to scrub and I headed to her office.


Two hours and five phone calls later, Liz, led a bristle headed older cop, with a small, big eyed boy, up to me. I noticed the child looked to be about four and carried a hurt innocence in his eyes.

"Ms. Hafez, this is Officer Wood and Marcus." The tall guard introduced us, and then left.

"Officer Wood... did you have any problems?" I asked, looking down into the injured brown eyes of the little boy. "Hello Marcus, I'm Miss Trish..." I said as I stooped down and shook his small hand. "I'm going to be helping you and your mom for awhile." Looking back up at the cop, he answered the question.

"Nothing we couldn't handle Ma'am." Officer Wood said with meaning. "A bit of an issue, but I can explain that after Marcus here, is seen too." I nodded at the big cop, as I motioned another woman over.

"Marcus, this is Miss Shelly." I made the introductions at eye level. "She's going to take care of you while we wait for your mommy... okay?"

"Is my mommy going to die?" the little boy asked with a quaver in his voice.

"Your mommy is in with the doctors right now... as soon as we know anything, I'll tell you. Can you go with Miss Shelly? She'll get you something to eat or drink if you'd like?"

"Is my father going to take me away? He gets really mad when mommy disobeys him."

"No one is taking you anywhere right now... we can talk more about that later. Go with Shelly and Ms. Liz... they will stay with you until we can talk and see if your mommy is okay." I tried to reassure the frightened child, but didn't want to say anything that might end up being a lie. Kids were always the hardest part of my job.

"Come on kiddo, let see what they have over here in the kitchen." Shelly said brightly, holding her hand out. That's one of the good things about her. She was easy to like and kids took to her automatically. After they left, I took the police officer into an office and closed the door.

"Okay, what happened?" I crossed my arms and waited to be briefed.

"The father was there when we pulled up. He was yelling at the sitter, who was later identified as the victim's sister. He was demanding his son and she was refusing. She was relieved to see us. We had your paperwork and she had a restraining order, between the two, we're set. He's claiming international privilege and tried to tell us his son wasn't a US national so our laws didn't mean anything to him..." He thought for a second before adding his personal thoughts.

"He'd done a runner, if he had a chance. He had everything including a French passport for the boy. My partner and another unit took him in, but he'll be out before tomorrow. His kind always is....You might want to do a Jane Doe on the mother... Something just stinks about all this." He finished briefing me.

"What did Marcus have to say on the way over here?" I asked, concerned about the boy's emotional state.

"He asked if his father killed his mother... and if he was going to be taken away." He's afraid, but trying not to show it. When I reached for him, he flinched back like I was going to strike him... All my experience tells me they've been abused and badly. Most of these cases, they usually don't make it out... but I'm just the beat cop... it's all up to you now Doc."

"Okay... I see.... Do you guys have enough people to leave someone here for them?" I asked, wondering if I'd need police intervention.

"In your dreams doc... we're pulling twelve's as it is now... You'd have to get the chief to sign off... I know a few rookies who need the extra money, but it'd be on your dime." He just shrugged.

"Thanks Officer Wood. We'll have to do with our own security for now... Tell your supervisor, that we might need some help later, if the father shows up." His radio went off as he nodded.

"Yes Ma'am... well if you don't need me, I have to get back at it. My partner was just dropped downstairs and we have to do our reports. We can work on them here, if that'd make you feel better." He smiled.

I took out a pad and wrote a short note on it. "Here, give this to the ladies in the cafeteria, you and your partner can have lunch... well, dinner on me.... Mom is still really critical and I'm waiting on the judge." I informed him, knowing he'd been on the force long enough to read between the lines

"Cool, I'll just clear it with dispatch... thanks" He pushed a button on his radio. "Charlie Hotel Alpha, meet me in the cafeteria... Dispatch, Charlie Hotel 45, we'll be out at the hospital code seven on stand-by.... Thanks doc, I wasn't looking forward to fast food again." He said, as I opened the door and let him out. Sighing, I went and interviewed Marcus.

Like I said before, kids make this job harder. I don't care if it's the preemies that we have to take care of, the instant orphans, the terminal pediatrics' or the abuse cases. Kids tear you up. Marcus wasn't an exception. When the sister and her husband came, I learned more.

I learned Beth, as she preferred to be called. Took the abuse until the day she found out her ex beat on her son Marcus too. Then she ran. She did everything you were supposed to do to get away from an abuser. She had the court orders, which would help me. She moved, changed her name, changed Marcus's school and pressed to have her now, ex-husbands, immigration status revoked. There wasn't anything legally she could do that she hadn't already done.

Yet he still managed to find her. He threatened to take Marcus or kill her... he did everything you can imagine, to hurt her and Marcus. What I heard made me take a personal interest in the case. I know I could've handed it off to Shelly and went about my business. She's actually one of the three emergency social workers for the hospital. I had a lot of thinking to do while we waited.

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byMyhands316© 46 comments/ 87288 views/ 225 favorites

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