I Never Threw a Punch, I Only Caught His Wrist in Mid-Air and Held It, the Way You Would Hold a Door About to Slam on a Child’s Fingers, and Everyone in the Room Saw What He Had Almost Done

PART 2 I didn’t punch him. I caught his wrist in the air. I held it. That’s all. I held it the way you’d hold a door that’s about to slam on a child’s fingers. With my other arm, I pulled Riley behind me into the hallway. “Let go of me!” he roared. “Let go of her first,” I said quietly. “You already did. Good.” He swung at me with his free hand. It caught me on the cheekbone. I tasted blood. I didn’t hit back. I let go of his wrist and stepped backward into the hallway, keeping Riley behind me. I raised both of my hands where everyone could see them. “I’m not fighting you,” I said, loud enough for the whole hallway. “I’m keeping her safe until the police come.” The two teenagers on the stairs had their phones out. They’d recorded everything. The old woman across the hall, Mrs. Dombrowski, opened her door wide. “Bring her in here, honey. Both of you.” On the phone in my hand, Officer Faust’s voice was very calm. “Shane, I heard all of it. Police are three minutes out. Stay exactly where you are. Do not go back in there.” I didn’t. Two patrol officers came up the stairs. The man, Vince, tried to talk first, of course. “That convict attacked me! He’s on parole! Arrest him!” One officer looked…