Alien Affair

by Gloria Martin

  “Never mind about that,” he said. His tone was more forceful now. More like the tone I knew.

  “How bad is it?” he asked instead.

  I took a closer look at the wound. While it was clear a bullet had nicked his skin, it did not look like it had lodged in his arm.

  “You’ll be okay,” I said, “I just need to clean it and get you a compress. You shouldn’t get up from the couch for a while.”

  I moved from my spot next to him on the couch towards my medical bag.

  “That’s good,” Heath said as I unzipped the bag and rooted around for a compress and alcohol swabs, “‘cause I’ll need to lay low here for a couple of days.”

  “What?” I asked, dropping one of the swabs back into the back and turning around to face him.

  Tending to a family member, making sure he was okay was one thing. But letting him stay with me...

  “No,” I answered. “Absolutely not.”

  “Kayla, come on!” he said now clearly frustrated, “it’s a lousy two days then I’ll be out of your hair.”

  “Yeah, that’s what you said to your dad a year ago,” I answered, “you ended up staying a month and taking off with one hundred dollars.”

  “He’d said I could have some money,” Heath said defensively, but I wasn’t buying it.

  “If you’re in such dire straits why didn’t you go to your dad for help?” I asked. Marvin, Heath’s dad, had helped his son out of multiple jams before even though my Mom tried to tell him that he needed to be a lot firmer with his son. Marvin, it seemed, never had the heart to turn Heath down.

  “I called,” Heath said, “your mom won’t let him take me in. Absolutely put her foot down.”

  “Good for her,” I snapped at him. “It’s about time somebody did.”

  He at least seemed to have the self-awareness to look away from me when I said that, a blush coloring his cheeks.

  Heath seemed to know that he had taken advantage of his father for years. And, what was more, for the first time, he looked utterly ashamed of that fact.

  “Look,” Heath said, “I know you don’t like me. I know you never have but...believe me. I wouldn’t be here if I had anywhere else to turn. Please, Kayla. Just a couple of days. That’s all.”

  I looked at him, his eyes downcast. A guilty knot formed in my stomach.

  Oh, don’t get me wrong. I still remembered all the times Heath had let us all down. It was something he’d been doing since I met him when we were both in High School.

  First, he’d been arrested for drinking and driving when he was sixteen. Then he’d been suspended for smoking pot in the restroom his senior year. As soon as he turned eighteen, he left school altogether and started taking up with the worst kind of criminals.

  Marvin and my mom had bailed him out of jail more than a handful of times.

  But, then I also remembered the good things he’d done. He gave a beautiful speech at our parents wedding all about how his dad was the best man he would ever know. He’d gotten mom’s medicine for her and even cooked dinner when she had the flu.

  And then there was the time my first boyfriend dumped me for some blonde cheerleader. Heath caught up with him after class and beat him down until he had two black eyes. All the while screaming about how no one treats his sister like that.

  All this, combined with his pitiable, forlorn look softened my stance. At least a bit.

  “You can stay one night,” I said.

  “And tomorrow I’m getting kicked out to the curb?” he answered in a sullen almost child-like voice.

  “Tomorrow,” I began gently, “I’ll call around and see if I can find somewhere else for you to stay.”

  “Like where?” he asked derisively.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe I can get mom to change her mind. Until then, we need to get that arm taken care of. Then you need to rest.”

  I moved back over to the couch alcohol swabs and compress in hand.

  “I’ll need to move my bike into the garage,” he said as I began wiping the blood on his arm. I was lucky, very lucky to find a townhome with an attached garage. They were difficult to get.

  “Where is it now?” I asked.

  “By the curb,” he answered.

  “Not exactly lying low, are you?” I asked. Anybody who had been chasing Heath would clearly be able to recognize his bright red bike standing starkly on my front lawn.

  “I didn’t have time to move it anywhere else,” he said weakly.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said, now placing the compress on his bicep. “I’ll go take care of it.”

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “Don’t mention it,” I answered, finishing the last tape on the compress. Suddenly, I felt the hand on his wounded arm come up and weakly cover mine. I looked up to find that his gray eyes were staring at me intently.

  “I mean it, Kayla,” he said urgently. “Thank you. For everything.”

  My heart started to beat a million miles an hour in my chest and I felt like I was fourteen again, spotting Heath for the first time.

  Suddenly, my mind was back to the vague fantasies about him that I had to push aside.

  Fantasies that involved the broad hand that was holding mine as well as the rest of his body. His entire body covering me, his hands groping and his lips kissing and sucking and…

  I pulled my hand out from under his and, with a forced half smile said, “You should be okay for tonight. Just sleep there and I’ll go take care of your bike.”

  Without waiting for him to say anything more, I headed out of the living room and to the door in the kitchen that lead to the dark garage. Once there, I leaned up against the wall and took two deep breaths.

  I didn’t know if I would be able to control these stupid fantasies while Heath and I were sleeping under the same roof.

  I told myself it was only for one night. Surely I could contain my errant mind for the next eight hours.

  But, as I remembered placing my hand on Heath’s firm bicep, his warm hand covering mine, I began to doubt that when morning came, I would have any control left at all.

  *****

  “Look, Mom,” I said on the phone. “It’s different this time. He’s hurt, he doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”

  I’d called my Mom as soon as I woke up that morning, just after getting dressed in my scrubs for my morning shift.

  As I suspected, rather sexual dreams of Heath had filled my sleeping hours and I was anxious to get him out of the house before my previously repressed desires got out of hand.

  “Kayla,” Mom said, her voice dripping with weary exasperation, “if he’s as injured as you say he is, why doesn’t he just go to the hospital?”

  “He won’t tell me,” I answered. “But I know that he’s scared, mom. I’ve never seen him this scared before. I think he’s really in trouble.”

  “What is she saying about Heath?” I heard my stepdad Marvin’s voice in the background of the call.

  “Don’t worry, Marvin,” Mom called back to him, “if he’s really in trouble he can get himself help.”

  “Mom,” I answered, “I can’t keep him here. I’ve got my big exam in two days. I’m running day shifts at the hospital all this week—”

  “He’s a big boy, Kayla,” Mom said. “He can take care of himself.”

  In the background of the call, I heard Marvin mutter something that sounded a lot like ‘couldn’t we..?’

  “No, Marvin,” I heard Mom clearly though she had moved her voice away from the speaker. “He needs to learn how to clean up his own mess.”

  “So, that’s a definite ‘no’ then?” I asked Mom, my stomach plummeting to the floor.

  “Honey, tell him to go to the hospital,” Mom said. “Better yet, tell him to go to the police. If he’s in trouble they can protect him.”

  “I’ll try talking to him,” I answered. Though, I knew it would be difficult to tell Heath to go to the police without knowing exactly what had happened. I knew
from experience that there were things the police couldn’t help with.

  “Ok,” Mom said. “Call us back to tell us what you’ve decided. And make sure to keep yourself safe first and foremost.”

  My stomach plummeted even further when I heard the concern in her voice. “I will, Mom,” I answered.

  I’d been so focused first on telling Heath off and then on patching him up last night that I hadn’t given much thought to what he really might have gotten himself into.

  I realized now that I’d given virtually no thought to how Heath’s actions might affect me. That, by answering the door, by letting him stay even for one night, I might have gotten myself tied up in whatever was happening to him.

  “What’d they say?” a voice from the couch asked.

  I turned to find Heath, eyes fully open and staring at me. There was more color in his cheeks then there had been last night. His hair was disheveled, but his lips were turned up in a familiar smirk that, though extremely cocky was also undeniably sexy.

  I turned away from him and began to gather my medical bag.

  “Mom says you should go to the police,” I answered.

  “How does she know I’ve done anything to warrant the police getting involved?” he asked.

  “Experience,” I said simply.

  “I guess I deserve that,” Heath said, “but, the police can’t help me out of this one.”

  “Why is that?” I asked, turning to him. I placed my medical bag by the wall next to the kitchen and moved to the coffee table. There, I sat down next to Heath.

  “It’s a long story,” Heath said again not meeting my eyes.

  “Look,” I said firmly, “you said it yourself, I’m the only help you’ve got. So, if you want me to help you, you’re going to have to tell me what’s going on.”

  “Ok,” he said with a small nod, “if you want to know...here it is. Basically, I’ve been running in this biker club. We’re called the Matadors. Anyway, we’ve got this rivalry with the Bulls on the south side of town.”

  I knew both names from the news. These gangs were notorious for drug running and shooting each other up.

  “So, you got into some turf war?” I asked, wondering how the police had not already been involved.

  “Not exactly,” Heath said, “What happened was, me and two other Mats were supposed to meet up with representatives from the Bulls. We’d agreed on a sort of truce. And it involved this...deal.”

  The way he said deal made me think that the two clubs were not trading marbles or opening up a restaurant together.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “the deal went south and the two guys sent by the Bulls shot the two guys with me. I ran for it. They followed me for a while, shooting at me. That’s what happened to the arm. Then, I slipped into this warehouse I knew of around that area, and they kind of gave up.”

  “And then you came here?” I asked. He nodded.

  “And they’re...they’re still looking for you?” I asked trying to keep the fear out of my voice.

  “I wasn’t supposed to survive,” he said. “The police weren’t supposed to know that anything went down until weeks later.”

  “But, you did survive!” I said. “So, you’ve got to tell them! You’ve got to go to the cops and say—”

  “No!” Heath said fiercely sitting up on the couch, “it doesn’t matter if I go to the police. They’ll find me anyway. Besides, I’m not going to snitch on my club.”

  “Really?” I replied, now frustrated. “You’re going to get both yourself and possibly me killed because you don’t want your friends to be mad at you?”

  “You don’t get it,” Heath said, “I should’ve known you wouldn’t.”

  “And what, exactly don’t I get?” I asked crossing my arms and staring at him. All the silly little fantasies that had filled my head last night flew out of my mind to be replaced by intense frustration.

  “You don’t just snitch on the Matadors,” he said. “When I joined I took an oath.”

  “So, some oath matters more than your life?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he said, “as a matter of fact, it does.”

  I stared at him one more moment and pursed my lips before making a firm decision.

  “Well then,” I said standing up and gathering my medical bag, “if this oath is so important your buddies should be able to help you out, shouldn’t they?”

  I moved from the coffee table and towards the front door. I looked back at Heath. He was determinedly staring in the other direction, his arms crossed.

  “Yeah,” he said finally, “my shoulder feels better now. And you said I’d be able to move today, right?”

  “You should be,” I said, “just don’t do anything crazy and you should be fine.”

  “Ok, then,” he said, “I’ll call my buddy Keith and see if I can swing by the bar. Someone in the club should have a spot for me.”

  I nodded even though he still wasn’t looking at me and couldn’t see it. I stood there looking at him in silence for a moment. Utterly confused by his stubborn stance.

  “You’re sure they’ll help you, right?” I asked somewhat hesitant.

  “Yeah, they will,” he said firmly. “And even if they don’t, you don’t need to worry about it. You’ve done your part.”

  I nodded again without being seen and pursed my lips. Eventually, I turned to the front door and made to leave.

  “Kyla,” Heath called to me just as I placed my hand on the door knob.

  “What?” I said an edge to my voice as I turned back to him.

  “I meant what I said last night,” he told me. “Thanks...you know...for everything.”

  He gave me half a smile. His hair was smoother now and I could see the blood had stopped beneath his compress. I tried to smile back but, when I did, it came out as more of a grimace.

  “Don’t mention it,” I said, “I guess I’ll see you around.”

  And, with that, I rushed out the door and down the street. I fully expected that would be the last time in a long time I would see or hear from my stepbrother.

  *****

  It wasn’t. I got the call just as my shift ended.

  Night had fallen. It was a little past eight o’clock. My feet were tired and swollen, and my stomach rumbled. I hadn’t eaten much of anything for lunch and I knew I had very little at the house for dinner.

  I was just thinking that I would have to grab a greasy hamburger on my way home again when my cell phone vibrated in the pocket of my scrubs. I looked down and my heart jumped into my throat as I read Heath’s name.

  I picked up the call just before it went to voicemail.

  “Hello?” I said.

  “Kayla, please, you’ve got to...I don’t know what…”

  I could tell it was Heath’s voice, but he was gasping and panting for air as though the wind had been knocked out of him.

  “Heath? What happened? Where are you?” I asked frantically. I suddenly had a horribly dark picture of him in some alley with a knife in his stomach.

  I shook my head to try and clear my thoughts, and listened carefully to what Heath said next.

  “I’m...I’m at the warehouse. They found me here and they…”

  “Heath, where is the warehouse?” I asked. “Can you give me an address?”

  He did, though I barely made out the numbers. I knew the side of area. It was certainly not a place you wanted to visit at night. All the same, I definitely could not leave Heath there.

  “All right,” I said, “hang tight. I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”

  As I drove to the location Heath had given me, I prayed desperately to whoever was listening that, when I arrived, I wouldn’t find a corpse bled out in front of the warehouse where Heath should have been.

  When I pulled up in front of a dark, tattered building, I did indeed find a body. But, luckily, it was breathing.

  Heath looked up at me with two black eyes a split lip and what looked like a few bruised ribs. His bright red bike wa
s splayed out next to him lying on the side of the building.

  “What happened!?” I said running up to him.

  “Had another run in,” he breathed.

  “With the same guys?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “What about the guys at your club?” I asked. “Where were they?”

  He shook his head before clutching his side and grimacing in pain.

  “Okay,” I said, “Okay, we’re going to have to get you into my car. Can you walk?”

  He nodded and I helped him up gingerly, all but supporting his entire weight, as he limped his way to the front seat of my car.

  “My bike—” he began as I slipped him into the front seat.

  “Don’t worry,” I said, “I’ll get it.”

  He nodded slowly and leaned his head back against the passenger seat as I closed the door and moved to his red motorcycle in the alleyway.

  I had inherited my parent’s old van, which I still used to go to work. I never desired anything more modern or feminine, and it got me where I wanted to go, so I never thought about changing it.

  Among some other junk, my stepdad had left an old door in the back from when he’d replaced one at home ages ago. He didn’t get rid of it, and I never bothered to take it out. I didn’t really know where I was supposed to put it. Now I was glad I hadn’t taken it out.

  I made a makeshift ramp with the door. I lifted Heath’s bike up onto its wheels. Now I am not a weak woman; most nurses aren’t. But that bike was heavy. I didn’t know how I would roll it up that door into the van.

  I heaved that bike. It was so heavy and I didn’t know how I could do it. I thought I might have to ride it up. But I thought about Heath, injured, and feeling of urgency came over me. I almost bust a vein but I somehow got that bike into the van, and lay it down there. I put the door back in, which was not exactly light, either.

  Once we and the bike were safely in the car, I drove away from the spot as quickly as I possibly could.

  All the way home, I kept looking at Heath out of the corner of my eye. I mentally assessed the wounds on his face and arms. He had stopped clutching at his ribs and was now only rubbing them tenderly.

  From what I could tell, there didn’t seem to be much lasting damage. A few scrapes that we could take care of quickly and one black eye.