by M. Stratton
He walked over to her and grabbed a book. “See this is where you are wrong. You don’t know me. If you spend enough time in a library for detention, you end up reading. If you choose the right book, it opens your eyes to a lifetime of experiences.”
“You like to read?”
“Now who is surprised? Yes, I do.”
“But I didn’t see any books around your place.”
“I tend to travel light. Besides, they have this new invention. It’s called a Kindle; you can store hundreds of books on there.” He sent her a lopsided grin.
She swatted at his chest and let her hand stay there. “Yeah, I might have heard of it.”
Wrapping his hand around hers he leaned down until they were nose to nose. “Let me guess, but nothing replaces the feel and smell of a real book.”
Fighting the urge to look away, she held her ground, tipping her chin up slightly. “Well, no, there is nothing, which can replace the feeling you get when you open a real book for the first time.”
“How about when you are far from your book stash and you finish a book, and have nothing on you to read?”
“That doesn’t happen.”
“Bet it happens between tonight and tomorrow morning.” His grin turned wolfish.
Stormy broke eye contact and looked down at the two books in her hand. They were her favorites. She’d read them dozens of times over the years; they were both short. He was right. She just looked back up at him.
“That’s okay, lady, you don’t have to say anything; we’ll both know I was right.”
“Oh, you think so; let me tell you, Mister—”
She stopped when someone rang her doorbell. They both became absolutely still as they listened to who could be on the other side of the door.
“Are you expecting anyone?” he whispered to her.
Silently, she shook her head. She was afraid to breathe thinking the person on the other side might be Nutter. She let out the smallest whimper when the doorknob turned. She couldn’t remember if she or Bender had locked the door behind them. Surly, Bender would have. As she watched, he once again pulled his gun out of his holster and pulled her in behind him as he quietly moved over to the wall leading to the kitchen.
When she shook, he pulled her tighter to him. She rested her cheek against his leather jacket and took deep breaths trying to calm herself. She wasn’t sure what was worse, that or the fact all she could smell was his worn leather and his clean scent from the soap he used.
“Stormy?” An older female voice accompanied a few knocks. “Stormy, are you in there?”
“Oh, thank God, it’s my neighbor Mrs. Wilkinson. I really should get this. She knows I’m here, and I’m willing to bet money she knows you are here too. She won’t leave until I do.”
Bender shook his head as he put his gun away. “Make it quick. We have to move.”
Looking outside she saw how dark it had become. There was no way they were going to be able to leave before it was dark. She was scared of what could happen in the dark. Shaking her shoulders out, she put a smile on her face and opened the door. “Hello, Mrs. Wilkinson, how are you?”
“Oh, dear, I’ve told you to call me Tabitha.” Pushing Stormy aside, the senior citizen waltzed into the condo and stopped when she saw Bender leaning against the wall. “Well, hello there, Mr. Tall, Dark and Deadly.” She looked him over from head to toe, taking everything in. “Oh, yeah. I bet you know what to do with your—”
Stormy rushed over to her. “Mrs. Wilkinson, can I help you with something?”
“Oh, dear, what was it? Oh, yes, I noticed you didn’t come home last night and I wanted to make sure you were okay.” She glanced out of the corner of her eye at Bender. “And I can see you were in very good hands. Yes.” She walked over to him. “May I see your hands?” Holding hers out, she waited for him to place one in hers.
“Don’t—” Stormy began.
“Oh, Stormy, just because you don’t believe, doesn’t mean Mr. Too-Hot-For-Leather doesn’t. Who would have thought there’d be someone who would be too hot to wear leather?” She fanned herself with her other hand. “Damn, if I didn’t see it myself, I’d never believe it.”
Stormy watched as Bender smiled at Mrs. Wilkinson, placing his hand in hers. When he glanced over at her and winked, she felt a flutter in her stomach.
“Ahhhh . . . look here.” Mrs. Wilkinson traced a line on his hand. “You have a very long lifeline, and you guard your heart. You’ve always guarded it. Hmmm . . . well look here.” She traced a line on his palm and looked over at Stormy. “It would appear, when you fall in love it’s for life; in fact you’d lay your life down for what she holds most dear. You’ve always hidden that part of yourself from others. Your secrets.” She tapped his palm. “They are going to come out, be ready. Oh, my . . .” She blinked up at him. “You’re a tiger in bed. Look at you go.”
Covering her laugh with a cough at Bender’s expression, she decided she was going to have to save him. “Mrs. Wilkinson, we were on our way out.”
“I can see that, young lady.” She raised her eyebrow at her. “Do we need to have ‘the talk’?”
“No, it’s not like that.”
“Keep telling yourself that, young lady. Now where was I? Oh, yes, we were just getting to the good parts, and what good parts they are.”
“Okay.” Stormy walked over to her and grabbed her by the arm, gently pulling her back toward the door. “Really, I’m sorry, but we need to get going.”
“Oh, I almost forgot; you had a visitor last night.”
Bender took over. “What can you tell us?”
“Jealous already? Hmmm . . . I didn’t see that in your palm. No, must be the protective instinct. But the man who stopped by, oh, man, tall and thin. Even though there was no one in the hall, he commanded the space. It was like every step was of purpose and you’d do whatever he asked of you.” Mrs. Wilkinson shook her head. “Well, anyway, he knocked a couple of times and then left.”
“Are you sure he left?”
“Oh, yes, I was able to see him come out the front entrance and get into a long black car.”
“Thank you. Please stay away from him.” She could barely talk; it felt like her heart was in her throat.
“Why, what have you gotten yourself into?”
“Nothing, it’s just he’s more interested in me than I am him, and I don’t want you to get in the middle of it.”
“Oh, honey, you’ll always have men like that. You’re very attractive.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, but please, promise me you won’t talk to him. Ever.”
“Sure. Don’t you worry about this old lady. I’ll be fine. Now go. Enjoy that hot hunk of burning love.”
Stormy thought for sure Bender was trying hard to keep his mouth shut. When she glanced at him, his eyes were huge looking at Mrs. Wilkinson. After closing the door behind her neighbor, Stormy relaxed against the door and burst out laughing at Bender. She knew what to expect with the older lady. He didn’t, and he actually got off easy; it could have been worse, much worse. “Ready?”
“What . . .”
“Yeah, you never know what she’s going to say or do. At least she didn’t grab your butt.”
“She wouldn’t.”
“She has.”
“No.”
“There are certain places I need to go for her because she isn’t allowed back.”
“Really? Well, maybe we should get a list of those places and spend some time there.”
“Really? My big, bad, dark knight? Scared of a little old lady?”
“Damn straight. Now let’s move. The sun is already down.”
Stormy gulped as they walked through the parking garage. She never noticed the shadows as much as she had tonight. When Bender put his arm around her and tucked her into his side, she was grateful he was so close and there to protect her. But what were his secrets?
Bender took a different way back to his place. He kept twisting and turning thro
ugh the dark streets making sure he didn’t have a tail. He had an app on his phone so he knew a tracking device wasn’t put on his bike while they were upstairs in her condo, but he still wanted to make sure. When he saw the lights of an out of the way diner up ahead, on a whim he pulled in. He wanted to make sure Stormy would know what could happen in order to keep her safe when they were back in the neighborhood.
“Let’s grab a bite.” He dismounted and turned to help her remove her helmet. At least this time she wasn’t playing with his stomach. God, she had just about made him crash his bike. He knew there was no way she’d do that. She had to be thinking of something else, and sure enough, it wasn’t paying attention to where they were going. At least she was this time.
When he held his hand out to her to help her off the bike, the old lady’s words came back to him, about how he always protected people. He did. He tried to help his mom, but he learned early on that she’d allow him to do only so much. There was a reason he was so stubborn; he got it from both of his parents. Murdoch had seen something in him as a punk ass teenager and helped him find his direction.
Finding a booth in the back of the diner, he scanned the people and the exits. He wasn’t expecting trouble this far out, but you never knew, and when you stopped expecting trouble is when it happened. He flipped a menu over to Stormy and barely glanced at his. If you’ve been to one diner, you’ve been to them all. Once they placed their orders, he turned so his back was in the corner and he had one leg propped on the seat next to him. He could feel his age more and more every day. There used to be a time when he’d be able to go and not even be concerned about sleep or letting his body heal; he was paying for that now.
“Why are you so twitchy?” he asked her as she moved around again in her seat.
“I don’t like my back out in the open. I feel like someone is watching me.”
“Lady, you’re a looker; someone is always watching you.”
She frowned at him. “You know what I mean.”
“I do, and you’re fine. It’s just your imagination.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I’d be feeling the same way, and I’m not.” He shrugged.
“What if you’re wrong?”
“When it comes to this stuff, I’m never wrong.” He looked down at his fingernails.
“Cocky son of a bitch.”
“I can’t deny it; I am.”
“One of these days I’m going to prove you wrong.”
He leaned forward, his large frame taking up the table between them. “Lady, you better hope you never prove me wrong when it comes to your safety.” He stayed where he was hoping she’d get the picture at how serious this was. The last thing he wanted to do was tell her how bad Mick and Nutter really were. She’d never sleep again. He was impressed she didn’t back down as he had expected her to. She might be a bookworm, but she did have some balls.
“What did you want to talk about?”
Slowly, he leaned back in his seat. “First, remember your lessons, reflections.” He nodded to the windows across from them and a mirror along the back wall. “Always look for the reflection. Even if you are stuck with your back to the room, you can still see what is going on. Unless, of course, you want to come sit next to me.” He gave her a wicked grin. He knew she wouldn’t and he rather liked that about her. Most women would have jumped at the chance to be close to him. He watched as she did as he said and he could see her relax. “See?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re right.” She crossed her arms, pushing her tits up.
The bookworm was stacked that’s for sure. He smiled at his own joke. The extra benefit of making her wonder what was going on in his brain was something he should do more of when he saw the anger leap to her eyes.
He needed to get serious so she would know he wasn’t messing around. “Now when we get back to the neighborhood, we’re going to be at risk until I can get us into my place. I need you to pay attention to everything, and above all listen to me and keep calm. I can’t protect you if you’re freaking out or not listening to what I tell you to do. If I tell you take your shirt off and go running up and down the street screaming the ‘British are coming,’ then by everything that’s holy, you do it. Understand?”
“Yeah, but—”
“No buts . . . period. You just do it. I’m not going to tell you to do something, and certainly not that, if it isn’t important. I’ve got to think a few steps ahead at all times, and that means if I’ve told you to do something, then you do it.”
“Fine.”
“Don’t ‘fine’ me with that tone. Get it off your chest now because once we leave here, you need to keep your mouth shut.”
“I’m not good about taking orders.”
“Gee, I never would have guessed. Do you want to live?” He waited for her to nod. “Well then, listen up. This isn’t going to be forever, just deal.”
“When are you going to tell me?”
“When we get back to my place.”
“Why do I have to wait so long?”
“Because the last thing I want is for someone to overhear what I have to say. Just because we aren’t in the neighborhood doesn’t mean it won’t get back there.”
“That makes sense.”
“Wait, can you repeat that?”
“Shut up.” She gave him a little smile.
“Are you sure you know what you just said?”
“Yes, I know, jerk.”
“Names aren’t going to hurt me. I’ve been called worse.”
“I’m sorry.”
He frowned at her. “Why are you sorry?”
She looked down and played with her fork. “No one should be called names. I should know better.”
“Ahhh shit . . . Stormy, don’t worry about it. I’ve been called names since I was a kid. I know which ones matter and which ones are said out of fear.”
Stormy looked up with him with tears in her eyes. “Those are the ones that hurt the most, the ones that stay with us the longest.”
He sighed, she was right. The names his father had called him still haunt him today. He spent his entire adult life running from them and doing everything he could to prove him wrong. Reaching over he picked up her hand and laced her fingers with his. “We all have a past; we’ve all been called names. What we do with it and the future we create are what make the difference. If we give in and allow the people who called us those names to win by not being who we really are, this world would be a dark place. If there is one thing I’ve learned, we’ve all been called names and labeled. What we do with it is all that matters.”
He hated when women cried, it all went back to the few times he saw his mom cry. When she finally broke down and cried, he knew it was bad. He honestly didn’t think much about what anyone called him anymore. No one mattered that much. He was his own man and made his own rules.
“I’m still sorry.” She held up a hand when he opened his mouth to stop her. “No, please, listen. Growing up, I was always more comfortable around books than people. I’d spend hours reading and minutes actually conversing with real people. To me the people in the books were as alive as you are sitting across from me. I’d read about their lives and feel what they felt; go to the places they went and grieved when they grieved. However, when it came to actual people, I had no idea what to do. It was easier for me to have conversations with book characters in my head than my family.”
Tracing patterns on the napkin with her fork, she sat in silence for a few moments before continuing. “As you could guess, school was hard for me. Grade school wasn’t so bad even though we moved a lot; the kids weren’t as mean. However, when all the junior high and high school cliques were formed, I was on the outside and a target. It wasn’t as easy for me to hide, although I did my best. The girls were very cruel. And I still have no idea why. I never did anything to them; I tried to stay out of their way.” She gave him a small smile. “I’m just glad social media wasn’t around when I was growing up.
I will say I did fall more and more into my book world. I was smart and able to breeze through school, which helped, so I spent as little time as possible there. Of course, the teachers thought they were helping by showing off how smart I was, but that didn’t help anything.”
She paused as their food was laid in front of them. Slowly, she began to eat. “I tried to kill myself my senior year. It was so bad; I couldn’t say anything to anyone of course. I had pulled so far away from everyone. I must have had a guardian angel looking out for me because I was found in time and they were able to pump my stomach. I spent some time in a ‘facility’ to help me deal with real life, but I never came fully back into the real world. I still prefer my book world. Although now I do, well, did, have employees and I help some of the older people in my building, I keep waiting to be bullied again. For people to say those things to me again because I’ve got my nose stuck in a book all the time.”
From the way her hands trembled and the waiver in her voice, he knew the things that were said when she was a teenager still haunted her. It pulled at him that she’d been through so much. On the other hand, she’d tried to kill herself, but unlike his mother, she didn’t succeed.
“You know everyone thought I was stupid and a criminal growing up. Part of it has to do with being a Bender. We’ve been known to be, ahhh . . . on the other side of the law more often than not. I remember as a kid it really bothered me, but I learned to embrace the label, be the label. I was running pretty wild by my teens, had a pretty good rep in the old neighborhood. No one would mess with Bender.” He played with the stitching on the back of the booth. “And as you can see from the other night, my rep is still intact, even after being gone all of these years.”
“What side of the law are you on now?”
“Lady, don’t you think you should have asked me that when you were practically climbing up me the other night in the dark street?”
“I’m asking now.” She placed her fork down neatly next to her plate.
Bender looked around. “Not now. This is part of what will have to wait until we’re alone.”
