by April Lust
Good for her! I almost stopped myself from walking in the room. Almost. She held her own pretty well, but Pierre’s face suggested he was about to spew some venomous shit, and I wouldn’t let her hear that. Not from him. “Lauren?” I stepped between them, shoving the chair out of my way. She gave me her best exasperated look, but underneath the eye roll I saw the truth. Relief. If nothing else, I saved her from that goon’s verbal attack.
“Who’s this?” Pierre snorted, making a show of looking me up and down. Like I couldn’t squeeze his guts out of his nose with my hands. The man barely stood taller than Lauren, and I doubted he weighed much more than her, too. The balls this kid had glaring up at me. He probably never came across someone who didn’t back down from him just by waving his name and money at them. Well, he had never met me before.
“Michael, let’s just go.” She tugged on my arm, but I already had Pierre in my sights. I squared off with him, staring down at him with as calm of an expression as I could muster. His oversized Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed hard.
“Stay clear of her, you got that? Accept defeat like a man, and back the fuck off.” Lauren’s nails dug into me, but I ignored it.
“You her bodyguard or something? I heard she had a little accident yesterday. She need someone to carry her books to class?” He tried, but the little waver in his voice gave him away.
“Michael. Please. Let’s just go.” She tugged on me again, but I only moved closer to Pierre.
“You stay away from her. I’m not going to tell you again. If I see you so much as breathe in her direction, you and I will have words.” Her nails really dug in then. My skin burned under her abuse.
“Yeah, I got it.” He leaned to the left, trying to see Lauren behind me. “Maybe your goon squad here helped you during your interview?”
“Seriously? I’m right fucking here.” I growled and took another step, my fists at the ready. He backed off, slinging his bag over his shoulder and rounding the table.
“I got it, I got it. I’ll stay clear of your princess. Don’t worry, your girlfriend is safe from me.” His sneer didn’t sit right with me, but when I turned to follow him, Lauren shoved me with both hands.
“Stop it. You’re making a scene.” It was then that I noticed the handful of students staring at me.
The blonde Pierre had cornered earlier walked over to us with a bright smile on her face. “That was awesome. I don’t think anyone has ever talked to him like that. That little twerp thinks the world is his just because his father owns a few buildings in the city. Apparently, money can’t buy you a personality.” She laid a hand on Lauren’s shoulder. “Keep this one close. I see a few girls here who would swoop in and nab him if you aren’t careful.”
“Thanks.” Lauren gave a weak smile. The blonde threw a wink at me over her shoulder and headed out of the room.
“Give me your bag.” I held out my hand. If she didn’t listen, I’d take it anyway, but for just once that day I wanted compliance. She must have seen it in my expression because she didn’t hesitate in handing it over.
“Can we go now?”
“Do you have any other classes?”
“No, just this one. I want to go home and take a pain pill.” She winced when she moved her arm.
Switching out my bike for the truck before I picked her up had been a good idea. She wouldn’t be able to hold on to me with one good arm. “That’s why you are supposed to wear your sling.” I pressed my hand to the small of her back to get her moving. She didn’t have a smart ass response for me. “If I tell you to stay in bed and just sleep today, think you can handle that?” I slowed my steps on the stairs for her; she seemed to be dragging.
“That actually sounds like a great plan. I wasn’t going to work this evening, but I think I’ll go in anyway. I want to see how Marnie did on her interview, and there are a few kids who started school today. I’d like to see how it went.”
The woman amazed me. “I can drive you; your car won’t be ready for a week or so. Tony had to order some parts and the body work is pretty bad.”
She shook her head, stopping at the foot of the stairs to look up at me. “I’ll be fine doing what I always did. I appreciate that you somehow feel this responsibility toward me, but you don’t need to. I fared just fine on my own all these years. I’m a big girl now, Michael. I can take the bus to work.”
“Maybe I just want to spend time with you. Did you think of that?” By the look in her eye, I could tell that hadn’t occurred to her. Why would it have? I told her I didn’t want her in my life, had been an asshole about it, too.
“You sure you can do that without being a body guard?” She tilted her head. The teasing smile I remembered from our youth snuck across her lips. Her very kissable lips.
“Probably not.” I shrugged, leaning down to get closer to her. “I’ll always protect you, Lauren.” Her tongue darted across her lips, her nostrils flared just enough to tell me she wanted more of what I gave her earlier. If I said the kiss had no effect on me, I’d be a lying fool. I pressed my lips to her forehead, grinning at the disappointed sigh she let out. If the woman knew how much she wanted my touch, I doubt she would have admitted it, but her body was aware of it. Her body wouldn’t be able to hold back in responding to me, but that couldn’t happen. I wouldn’t use her like that.
Kelly was good for a quick fuck, but never would Lauren be that girl, and I didn’t want her to become that girl. But that was all I could offer. I wouldn’t drag her into my world. She needed to find someone worthy, someone who would do everything for her but not have the shit past I did. Someone who could love her openly and honestly. Fucking Lauren would be a mistake. No matter how much my dick ached to be inside of her, I wouldn’t do that to her.
“Take me home, Michael.” She turned and walked out the door, not even glancing back to see if I was following. Her princess act didn’t fool me. She was putting space between us, not wanting me to see how much she really wanted from me. Poor girl didn’t realize I already knew.
Chapter Seven
Lauren
Working at the shelter meant more to me than just a pay check. Considering how small the check was, it was more about my desire to help others than earn a decent wage. I made enough to cover my rent and toss Asya money for groceries, but other bills and luxuries like clothes were harder to come by.
In order to make those ends meet, I took a second job cleaning offices. I only had to take on a few shifts a week, so it rarely interfered with school or my work at the shelter, but sometimes when I had to fill in for someone who called in sick, I’d be stuck cleaning until well after midnight.
Casey called in. Again. The third time that month. I didn’t mind taking her office, but I was tired and my shoulder throbbed. Painkillers only worked if you took them and, since they made me sleepy, I declined the afternoon dose.
After Michael dropped me back off at home––and by dropped off I mean pushed his way into my apartment and didn’t leave until I had fallen asleep––I slept for nearly five hours. I barely caught my bus to get to the shelter in time.
The throbbing in my shoulder made the cleaning take twice as long. Vowing to slap Casey the next time we crossed paths, I pushed my way through the last hallway of vacuuming and put away my supplies. I didn’t need to look at my watch to know the midnight mark had passed. The cars in the parking lots surrounding the businesses on the street were gone. The third shifters of the small plastics factory across the street sat outside on their smoke break.
The bus ride home didn’t take long at that time of night. The only passengers were myself and one sleeping old man. I’d seen him plenty of times before. He used the bus as his personal RV, catching a nap in the air-conditioned bus before heading off back to the streets. The driver never seemed to mind letting him take his nap, and he didn’t bother me any.
“Working late tonight,” the driver commented as I stood on the steps by him, waiting for my stop.
“Yeah. Later than u
sual.” We didn’t speak often, but we recognized each other enough to have small talk now and then. I nodded toward the sleeping man. “He have his fair tonight?”
“Barely, but yeah.” The bus pulled to the curb. Before I stepped off, I handed the driver a five-dollar bill.
“That should take care of him for the week, right?”
The driver nodded and gave me a toothy smile. “It should. Thanks.”
“See you in few days.” Stepping onto the curb, I waited until I heard the whoosh of the doors close before I started heading down the street. It was a two-block walk to my building, and the street lights were dimmed––the city hadn’t come by for any maintenance in a while.
The skin on the back of my neck started tingling. I glanced over my shoulder but didn’t see anyone. I picked up my pace and held my bag closer to my body, ignoring the pain it caused in my shoulder.
Footsteps sounded behind me, and I chanced another look. A man walked three buildings behind me, keeping the same pace as myself. Not faster or slower, but the exact same pace. His face was shrouded in the darkness of the night, and his hands were in his pockets. He didn’t look away when I saw him; instead he looked directly at me.
My heart sped up and I took longer strides, trying not to alert him to my quickening steps. My building was only another block ahead. The footsteps picked up speed and sound. He wasn’t even trying to hide that he followed me. I tried to dig my cell phone out of my bag while I continued making my way home, but it had slid down to the bottom of my bag and I couldn’t reach it without stopping to dig it out.
A cat howled from behind a trash can, making me jump. The guy behind me let out a low chuckle. I didn’t look over my shoulder again; I didn’t need to. I could feel him there, closer than before.
My building was within eyesight, I could see my steps. I worried about the stalker chasing me up to my apartment, breaking in. Asya would be home by then. She might have been asleep. If he made his way into the apartment it wouldn’t just be me who was in danger. I’d be putting her in harm’s way, as well.
Deciding to try to make a run for it, I dropped my bag and darted down the gangway, heading for the alley. I knew the streets around my house better than him, I hoped.
I barely made it to the backyard of the building before I felt a cold hand grip my neck. My breath was knocked out of me as I was thrown against the brick building. I hit my head against the rough surface and grunted from the pain of it.
The stench of cigarette smoke and beer filled my nostrils as he pressed himself against me, pushing me harder against the building. I tried taking a deep breath, but my lungs wouldn’t expand with his weight against my chest. “So you’re the little bitch,” he snarled. Yellowed teeth flashed at me just before another sparkle in the night became more interesting.
Cold, sharp metal pressed against my neck. I tried to lean away from it, to slip out from his grasp, but he only pressed harder. The bite of the knife drew my attention.
“Just hold still. I think I’d like a bit of fun before we get to the main event.” I heard a buckled being worked on, a zipper moving. I kicked my legs out, but hit nothing but air. The darkness didn’t allow me to see much. His body blocked the light from the alley.
Reaching up, I tried to claw at his face, his arms, anything that would get him to let up on the pressure he had on me so I could wiggle free. His weight was too much, the pain in my shoulder weakened me.
“Fuck,” he growled as he was ripped away from me. He landed on the ground, under the moonlight, flat on his back. My rescuer took no time in keeping my assailant down for the count, applying several hard punches to his face before shoving him to the ground and standing up.
I watched everything unfold as though I were sitting in a movie theater. Things like this didn’t happen in real life. My rescuer turned slowly back to me, and for a moment I tensed, worried I’d only swapped out attackers.
“Lauren.” The tenderness mingled with the roughness snapped my attention to his face. Michael.
Michael was there, and he’d saved me. Again.
I sagged against the building, letting the adrenaline run out of my system. A soft whimper escaped me as he scooped me up into his arms. Pushing my face into his chest, I took calming breaths. “Thank you. Thank you,” I said over and over again. I clung to his shirt, afraid he would leave me, afraid he’d disappear, or that he wasn’t real at all
“Shh, it’s okay, baby.” His hand ran over my hair while he soothed me. His other arm wrapped around me, blanketing me from the sight of the bloodied man on the ground. “He’s not going to hurt you.” How many times had he said those exact words to me growing up? Sheltering me from my mom’s boyfriends, her drunken husband, and then my stepbrother. Would there ever come a time I didn’t need him to save me, to say those words and make me believe him?
He pulled back from me, wiping my hair away from my face. I had started crying at some point and strands of hair stuck to my skin. With a gentle touch, he cleared them all away. “I’m going to check him, to see who he is, okay?” He waited until I nodded before he smiled. “That’s a good girl. Just stay here. Don’t look, just relax right here.” The tenderness of his voice didn’t fool me; I knew how hard he was. I could see how dangerous he had become over the years. He had tossed my attacker away with what seemed like a flick of his wrist.
I kept my eyes closed, focusing on my breathing while he dug through the guy’s pockets. “Don’t steal anything,” I whispered into the air. I thought I heard him laugh at my dictate, but I knew he wouldn’t.
The shuffling stopped and I felt his hands on my arms. “Okay, let’s go up to your apartment. Your bag’s just up here.” He led me back through the gangway and scooped up my bag as we passed it.
I’d never considered myself a wuss, but walking back to my apartment, leaning on him for support, I couldn’t help but feel every bit the damsel in distress.
“Is Asya home?” he asked as he dug through my bag, looking for my keys.
“She should be. Her shift ended over an hour ago.” I leaned my back against the wall in the hallway, waiting for him to get the key in the lock.
He nodded for me to go inside and he followed behind. I let him shut and lock the door while I threw myself on the couch, covering my face with my hand. A slight sting still resided in my neck and I touched it, feeling the small bit of moisture on my fingertips. Pulling it away I saw what I already knew. Blood. Just a trickle.
“Shit, let me see that.” He shoved my hand away and pushed my chin up and to the right to get a better look. “We need to clean that up.” He didn’t give me a chance to stand, he merely swept me up into his arms and carried me to the bathroom.
He sat me on the counter and told me to stay still. I made a mental note to yell at him later for being so bossy, but, at the moment, I found comfort in his take-charge way. After he dug around under the sink, he came back up with some cotton balls and hydrogen peroxide.
I shook my head. “That stuff burns.” I pointed at the brown bottle he held in his hand.
“Just for a second,” he agreed, and unscrewed the cap.
“Don’t use that.” I tried to push it out of his hands.
He pulled away and gave me a pointed glare. “Stop it. You’re acting like a little kid. I have to clean the cut or it could get infected. Who knows what shit was on that knife.” He was right.
I knew it. But I was exhausted. “I don’t care. Don’t touch me with that or I’ll kick you.”
His eyes widened at my threat and he smiled at me. Not a comforting it’s going to be okay, baby smile, but a dangerous, animal off the leash smile. “If you kick me, I’ll spank your bare ass, Lauren. I promise you that. And it will sting a hell of a lot more than this cotton ball.”
There was no doubt in my mind he would do exactly what he promised. A small part of me wanted to find out for sure, wanted to know what that would be like, having his hand on my bare skin. My bare ass, at that. He took my hesitancy for
compliance and started to press the wet cotton ball to my neck.
Like I predicted, it stung like hell and I fisted my hands and slammed them into the counter. “It’s not that bad.” He laughed at my outburst and finished the chore. “There, all done. It’s not deep, just a scratch really. Do you have any bandages? I didn’t see any down there.”
“No.” I shook my head, turning around to see myself in the mirror. “Ugh,” I groaned. Aside from red eyes from the crying, there were red blotches on my face, and a long red line covered a good three inches of my neck.
“See, not bad.” He pulled my hair back into a ponytail. “By morning, you’ll be fine.”
I looked at his reflection. “You aren’t going to try tying me to my bed and make me sleep for a week?” I asked cautiously. He was being too easy about this.
“Tying you to the bed has its benefits. But I think you’re too tired to deal with that tonight. How about we go back into the kitchen and get you some water instead?” He pulled me off the counter and grabbed my hand, half dragging me back to the kitchen.
