Heart on a Chain Read Online Free PDF Page A

dropped into my food (once it was a small brown nugget of dog poop), or to try to eat around it. He takes great joy in my humiliation and I guess eventually he would start to miss my burning shame. Today is the first time this year he’s missed it, apparently. I watch him immediately zone in on my sitting place, a grin splitting his face.
    My eyes fly instantly to Henry, who’s involved in listening to a story being told by one of his friends. Oh please, I beg silently, please don’t let him see this. I’m not sure if I want him oblivious in order to keep him from getting a new idea for afflicting me, or whether I just don’t want him to see my degradation.
    I look back at my tormentor frantically, knowing from firsthand experience that trying to protect my food will only result in him pushing the tray against me, and then having to spend the day walking around vainly shamed that my front is smeared with the stains of my lunch.
    I feel Henry’s eyes on me and my gaze is drawn to his against my will. His brow is furrowed as if he’s trying to figure something out. I can’t keep my eyes in one place, though, gaze alternating between the two of them. He follows my flicking gaze to my tormentor, then back to me again. I watch as understanding dawns, but instead of the anticipation I expect to see when he figures it out, I see his face harden, anger darkening his eyes, jaw clenching.
    Automatically assuming the anger is for me as I’ve been conditioned to for most of my life, I cower and keep my eyes on him, knowing he’s the more immediate danger. He stands abruptly, causing every person at his table and even a few at nearby tables to stop conversation immediately and look his way. I cringe instinctively. Instead of coming my way, he turns toward Frank and steps in front of him, blocking his progress, back to me.
    “ Can I help you?” his words reverberate with fury. I hear it clearly from where I sit, but somehow it doesn’t seem to register with Frank, who smiles cockily.
    “ No, man, I’m good.”
    He takes one more step, and suddenly Henry clamps a large hand down on his shoulder. Henry is at least six inches taller than Frank, and he doesn’t lay it down softly, but rather drops it like a stone. Frank looks up at Henry and suddenly notices the clenched jaw. He hesitates for just a second, wariness creeping onto his face, to be replaced with an arrogant smirk as he realizes his friends are watching.
    “ Can I help you ?” Frank asks sarcastically, which garners a snicker from his own friends.
    “ I don’t think there’s anything for you over here,” Henry snarls at him, frightening me. Frank takes a slight step backward, glancing nervously over his shoulder, trying to retain his swagger. “I think you and your friends,” Henry grits out, “should move on. I don’t think this is the place for you to be—now, or anytime in the future for that matter.”
    Frank swallows nervously, holding up his hands in submission with a laugh meant to sound careless but which comes out sounding panicky. He throws a perplexed glance my way past Henry’s impressively bulky arm.
    “ Alright, man, no harm no foul, right?”
    Henry still has not removed his hand from Frank’s shoulder and I watch as he squeezes, causing Frank to wince slightly.
    “ Not today, anyway,” Henry growls ominously, glancing back at me, “but I’m guessing probably in the past.” He leans in, putting his face closer to Frank’s. “Not anymore, either. Capice?”
    Frank gives a jagged laugh. “You’re kidding, right, man? You’re protecting her?” This is spit out as if I were less than a bug. I watch as his friends bristle behind him, affronted that they’re being kept from their fun.
    Then, amazingly enough, some of Henry’s friends stand, all big football player types, clearly not understanding what’s going on, but willing to back up Henry anyway. They don’t move from where they stand next to the table, but Frank’s friends