Chasing Daylight

by Carey Heywood

  I put a bathroom in the back corner myself. It’s nothing fancy, a standup shower, toilet, and sink. The wall enclosing it still needs to be primed and painted but at least its door came primed. I don’t mind looking at sheetrock, it doesn’t look much different from the cinderblock walls, which make up the rest of the space.

  I have a bed, a chair, a dresser, a TV, a couple of lamps, an old fridge, a stacked washer and dryer, and a microwave. Zeus has his own dog bed but ends up on my bed most nights, so all it’s doing is collecting dust. I also have a wheelchair I use to get around when my prosthetic is off. It’s more convenient than hopping and there’s less chance I’ll hurt myself falling if I use it.

  Zeus heads down the stairs first while I lock up behind us. Being able to set my own schedule is a luxury working for Aunt Cathy affords me. She doesn’t care how many hours a day I work as long as shit gets done. The background noise is a comfort.

  I open the window closest to the bathroom. I never installed a fan so that’s the only way I have to vent the steam when I shower. It works okay, as long as I leave the bathroom door open. I have bars mounted in the shower area; but since there’s a drain in the floor, I could wheel my chair right into it. I like showering standing up though, so I usually leave my chair parked in front of the toilet.

  I sit in my wheelchair to take off my leg. When I first got my prosthetic, it was a relief to take it off. Now, over five years into being an amputee, I’m used to it. During the spring and summer, I wear a nylon liner between my silicone liner and my skin. It helps absorb sweat and keeps my skin from chaffing. The silicone liner attaches to the socket of my prosthetic. After I eat, I’ll put on a shrinking sock. All it does is ensure the shape of what’s left of my leg stays the same.

  At first it seemed like a pain in the ass; but at this point, I barely notice it. Before I hit the shower, I pop a frozen dinner into the microwave. That way it will be cool enough to eat by the time I’m done.

  After my shower, I sink back into my wheelchair. Eyeing Zeus’ food bowl, I make sure it’s full before I grab my food. Glancing around the room, I see him curled up on his dog bed. It was hot today though, so I shrug it off and wheel over to a round table near my bed.

  Zeus isn’t the only one feeling the effects of the heat. By the time I’m done eating, I can hardly hold my head up. I leave the tray on the table, wheel over to my bed, and am barely in it before I crash.

  I squint and blink away sleep as my mind registers the wheezing sound coming from the other side of my room. Lifting my head, I make out Zeus’ shape; and even in the dim light coming in from the windows, I can’t mistake the effort it’s taking him to breathe. Without thinking, I scramble toward him, only to crash hard onto the floor.

  My fucking leg is over by the shower; and in my panic, I forgot I didn’t have it on. Sleep now firmly out of my system, I crawl over to Zeus. He tries to lift his head when I reach him but fails. He’s puked at least a couple of times and, from the smell, crapped his bed as well. He’s been sick before but nothing like this, nothing where his wheezing shakes his entire body.

  Fuck. Zeus. I can’t lose you.

  I lift my hand to stroke over his head before I crawl to my leg.

  What is that noise?

  Lifting up from my pillow, I shake my head and listen for it again. I don’t have to wait long. A pounding strong enough to shake the entire building comes from downstairs. It takes me a moment to place where I am. The pile of boxes and trash bags in the corner are a quick reminder that North Carolina is a fresh start.

  The pounding comes again and I hurry out of bed, grabbing my robe as I make my way to the stairs. Since the place isn’t opening for another month, I’ve been leaving the door to my unit open at night. Clinching my robe tight around my waist, I take the stairs two at a time. It’s a back stair, colonial style, letting out at what was once a kitchen. When I turn at the bottom of the stairs, I have a straight line of sight to the front door.

  The view greeting me stuns me into to an unexpected standstill; so much, that my body rocks from the impact of it. The front door is steel with a window making up the top half of the door, steel trim surrounding it. There, lifting an arm that looks as thick as my leg is a mountain of a man.

  Three things hit me at that moment; first, if I can see him, he can see me; second, it’s the middle of the night, and third, I have no clue what to do.

  “Hey,” he booms.

  I’m shocked the window is still intact not only from his pounding but from the impact of his voice. At the sound of it, I jump, but don’t move any closer to him.

  “I need help,” he continues.

  At that moment, I realize he has only knocked with one hand and is cradling something in his other arm.

  The roots holding my feet in place retreat, and without thought, I dash to the door and begin unlocking it. There’s the regular door handle lock, a deadbolt, and a slide lock at the top of the door. Tugging the door open the stranger wastes no time in advancing into the room. I step out of his way and move toward the light switch. Once the room is flooded with light, my brain processes the sight before me.

  He has to be 6’4 maybe even taller, with dark brown hair at least a year past its last haircut, and a face that’s at least half a month overdue for a shave. His shoulder stops my perusal of him, or rather what’s over his shoulder.

  “Oh, my God. What happened?” I ask, rushing over to look at what appears to be a German shepherd he’s holding.

  “He’s wheezing and vomiting. I don’t know why.”

  I gulp at the tremble that was unmistakable in his words.

  My mouth drops as my eyes fully connect with his golden brown ones for the first time.

  “Where should I put him?” he asks, looking around.

  “I’m not a vet,” I stammer.

  His brows furrow and he half turns to glance out the still open door and to the clearly illuminated sign that says 24 hour Critter Haven and Spa.

  “We don’t open for another month,” I stammer in an attempt to explain.

  His head turns back to me, the gold in his eyes no longer panicked, now hard. “Save my fucking dog.”

  His words whip out like a physical blow and I lift my hands to protect myself. It’s now that I fear for my safety. Now, after letting in a stranger, a giant one who is clearly not in his right mind, I’m afraid.

  “Alec!” I shout and spin back toward the stairs.

  In a flash, his hand stops my movement, fingers so tight around my upper arm, I’m certain it will bruise.

  “Where the fuck are you going?” he clips.

  I gulp, pulling at his grip.

  “To get my phone and my keys. I can take you to a vet,” I try to explain.

  “We’ll take my truck,” he answers, tugging me toward the door.

  “I need my phone so I can let them know we’re on the way and my keys to lock up the place.”

  He glared at me for a moment before releasing his grip on my arm. Instantly, my other hand went to the spot he held.

  “Go,” he barks and I run.

  Once back up the stairs and into my room, I grab three things, my phone, my keys, and a pair of flip-flops. I don’t waste time putting them on as I race back down the stairs and to the front door. He’s already in his truck by the time I get the door locked. I hesitate before opening his door and he turns his head to glare at me.

  All righty then!

  I climb onto the seat and he’s pulling away before I even have the door closed or my seatbelt on.

  “Which way?”

  “Left on Gannon,” I gasp as I click my seat belt into place and hold onto it as he takes off, not waiting for a break in traffic.

  Luckily, since it’s the middle of the night, only a couple of other cars are on the road. One honks as it continues in the opposite direction and he glares into his rearview mirror after it.

  “Make that call,” he orders and I do.

  I’m alone in a truck with a stranger
and an extremely sick dog. I take small solace in the fact he is following my directions. If he was planning to kill me, I doubt he’d do it at the pet clinic where Alec works. That’s where Alec directed that we meet him when I called Rachel, waking them both.

  “What’s your dog’s name?” I ask, resting my hand on the wheezing dog who lies between us on the bench seat of his truck.

  “Zeus,” he replies, not taking his eyes from the road.

  The whole drive his dog has had his head on this guy’s thigh and this guy, has had his hand on Zeus’ head. He clearly cares a great deal for his dog.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Mitch.”

  He doesn’t ask, but I give him mine, to which he makes no reply. Thankfully, we don’t have far to go. The clinic where Alec currently works is in Raleigh. When we pull up, I breathe a sigh of relief when I see the light on and then cringe when I see Rachel peering out the front window as we park.

  Mitch doesn’t wait for me. He has Zeus in his arms and is across the parking lot before I’m even out of the truck. I take my phone and keys with me and slip them into the pockets of my robe as I jog after him. Rachel’s holding the door open for him and Alec motions him back further into the office. I watch him disappear behind a corner as I reach Rachel, who is still holding the door open.

  “Who is that?” she asks once I’m inside and she starts locking the door behind me.

  I pause to take in my best friend before I answer. Her short blonde bob is messy from sleep; but otherwise, she’s more dressed than I am. These days I have no clue what she sleeps in. Back in our days at Tech, she slept in an old t-shirt and yoga pants; so considering that’s what she’s wearing now, she might still be in her pajamas. Unlike her, I’ve always slept in just my panties. For her sake, I grudgingly wore a tank when we shared a dorm room. She loves me, but she had no desire to see my boobs.

  Now that I’m living alone again, I’m back to sleeping in just my undies, thus the necessity of my short, plush robe. Pulling the lapels of my robe together tightly at my neck, I sink into one of the chairs in the front room.

  “His name is Mitch and honestly, that’s all I know. He saw the sign for the Critter Haven and Spa and thought it was already open.”

  “And you drove here with him?” She settles into the chair next to me and grabs my other hand.

  “It was in the moment,” I try to explain.

  “Z, he’s kinda scary looking,” she whispers, glancing briefly toward the back rooms where her husband, Alec is somewhere hopefully saving Mitch’s dog.

  “I know,” I breathe. “He scared the shit out of me, banging on the door. When I told him I wasn’t a vet, I thought for a second he might kill me.”

  Her mouth drops as I nod.

  She looks back to the back rooms, starting to stand. “Maybe I should check on Alec.”

  Together, we make our way to the back rooms. The door to the first one is open. Zeus is lying on a steel veterinary table in the center of the room. He’s still wheezing but not as badly as he was in the truck. Mitch is sitting in a chair pulled close to the table, his frame bent over Zeus, his face in the fur of Zeus’ back.

  I stare. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen someone so attached to a dog. My gaze is broken when Rachel tugs my arm, pulling me away from the open doorway and further down the hall. At the end of the corridor, we find Alec in another room putting a bottle of pills into a paper bag as we approach.

  “Honey,” Rachel calls as we near him, “is everything okay?”

  His eyes lift and I watch as they warm the moment he has her in his sight. He closes the distance to her and puts his arm around her shoulder, tucking her against him and kissing the top of her head.

  “Looks like he got into some rat poison. I administered the first dose and”—he passes the paper bag to me—“here is the follow-up treatment he needs to take for the next two weeks. Instructions are on the label.”

  Grasping the bag in my hand, I ask, “Do you want me to give them to him?”

  He nods. “And get Mitch’s address so I can bill him for the treatment. Let him know I’ll do it at cost. I’ll pop by in the morning to see if I can figure out how to turn off the light in the sign so this doesn’t happen again before we open.”

  “Are you sure Kenzie should do it?” Rachel asks.

  He shrugs. “I’m beat and that dude asked for her. It’s too late, and he could probably kick my ass, so I didn’t argue.”

  I gulp. Alec is a big guy, easily six feet tall and he’s right. Mitch looks like he could break him in half.

  “Is it cool for him to take his dog home with him?”

  Alec nods. “Yes, since he got treatment within the first twelve hours of Zeus showing symptoms. If it had been longer, I may have needed to keep him here to observe him.”

  “Are you sure he’s going to be okay?”

  He nods again, this time lifting his hand to cover his mouth as he yawns. His yawn is contagious, making both Rachel and I do the same thing. As a group, we move back down the hall, Alec turning off lights as we pass them. We stop at the open door to the room where Mitch and Zeus are, and I enter it as Alec and Rachel wait by the door.

  I quietly cough, hoping it will get Mitch’s attention, and it does. He lifts his head; and once again, I’m captivated by his red-rimmed light brown eyes.

  “I have the medication you’ll need for Zeus,” I stammer, lifting the paper bag as evidence.

  He stands, and I’m reminded of his size once more. With more care than I thought possible, he gingerly lifts Zeus into his arms and carries him to the door. I move out of his way and follow him to the front room. Alec and Rachel follow us, Alec pausing to flip off the lights of the room Zeus was in and the back hall.

  We pause outside the front door so Alec can lock up.

  “You guys go ahead,” he says in Mitch and my direction.

  Rachel gasps then recovers quickly. “We should drive Z home.”

  Since I agree with this call, I shift closer to her.

  “No, I’ve got her,” Mitch rumbles and both Rachel and I gape up at him.

  “See,”—Alec motions toward Mitch—“he can take her home.”

  “He’s a stranger,” Rachel squeaks and then turns to Mitch and adds, “No, offense.”

  Mitch ignores her, and, turning to me, and snaps, “let’s go.”

  His tone leaves no room for argument. My limbs ignore my brain and I follow him. Rachel calls after me, but I wave her off. When we reach his truck, he surprises me by telling me to drive.

  I dumbly stare at him.

  “The keys are in my pocket.”

  Gulping air, I look from his face to his track pants and back up. He’s holding Zeus across both of his arms and would have to shift him to get the keys himself.

  There’s a bulge I pray to God are his keys on his right side. Nervously, I slowly reach into his pocket, close enough to him that I can feel the heat of Zeus through my robe and Mitch’s breath on my forehead. My hand clasps the keys and I pull them out quickly, taking a step back as soon as I have them free. I open the door for Mitch and move around to the driver’s side to get in.

  I have to sit on the edge of the seat to reach the pedals since it’s a bench seat and I’m sure I’ll squish Mitch’s legs if I move it forward.

  Mitch takes one look at me though and orders me to switch places with him. I slide across the bench seat as he lifts Zeus. Once I’m settled and have the seatbelt on, he gently sets Zeus across my lap, the backs of his bare hand brushing the top of my thighs. My heart thunders in my chest as he moves around the back of the truck to the driver side door.

  The heat has sky rocketed in the cab. It could be from having a full-grown German shepherd on top of me; at least, that’s what I tell myself. We’re back on the road before I manage to look at Mitch. He’s focused on the road, one hand resting on Zeus’ head.

  He may be the most beautifully terrifying man I’ve ever seen in my life. The glow of the dash a
nd the headlights of oncoming traffic illuminate his face. His beard, while not neatly trimmed, does nothing to disguise his chiseled jaw. Long lashes frame his eyes. It’s too dark to see them, but I’m certain I’ll never forget the exact shade of them.

  His nose is large but not overly so. It’s strong and, in a way, reminds me of paintings of Roman soldiers I’ve seen in old books. His neck is thick, his skin tan as it disappears into his fitted white tank. After his overall bulk, I had noticed his arms earlier. The lack of light in the truck does nothing to hide the ridges of the muscles there.

  Strong shoulders form into sculpted biceps. I’m sure there are other muscles all around those, but I can’t remember what they’re called. My gaze shifts to his forearms and I can’t help but wonder if I’ve ever spent this much time admiring that part of a man’s body before. Forearms? Something must be wrong with me.

  It’s clearly all the excitement of the evening; if I was in my right mind, I wouldn’t be thinking about his arms at all. Obviously, it’s the lack of sleep. I’ve been so intent on staring at him, I’ve paid no attention to where we’re going until we get there, and there is not the Critter Haven and Spa I expected. We’re at an apartment complex. Great, is this where he plans to kill me?

  Mitch is out of the truck and to my side before I can ask why we’re here and not at the Critter Haven and Spa.

  After opening my door, he reaches for my hand and places his keys in them before lifting Zeus from my lap. He waits for me to unbuckle my belt and climb down from the truck before turning and walking away from me. Confused, I follow him to the side door of what appears to be the leasing office.

  We stand there until he grumbles, “You have the keys.”

  “Right,” I stammer and start trying different keys from his ring.

  “It’s the one with the wrap on it.”

  Sure enough, one key has a plastic wrap around the top of it, differentiating it from the half dozen or so other keys on his ring. My hand shakes as I unlock and hold open his door.