I shook my head. He was long gone and no crime had been committed here.
“I can drive you, if you like. We close at two. You can wait out back. There’s any overhang that’ll keep the rain off you.” Her voice was gentle as she became aware I was the victim. I glanced at the clock on the wall and saw she’d be off in less than an hour. I nodded.
“That would be nice. I don’t know where anything is here.”
“Okay, then. I’ll have to straighten up after closing, but no later than two-thirty. I’d let you stay in here, but Bill is a bit of an ass about it. Paying customers and all. Even though technically you are.” I felt a smile tug at the corners of my mouth as she ranted, but shook my head.
“I’m fine waiting outside. I don’t want to be any more of a bother.”
“It’s no trouble. I’d like to believe someone would do it for me if I needed help.” She pointed to the back of the restaurant. “Go straight back and out the door. There’s a bench out there where Bill likes to smoke. Have a seat and I’ll be out when I’m done.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate it.” She returned my grateful smile with a kind one of her own.
“It’s no problem.”
I was preoccupied with thoughts of the waitress’ kindness and that of the guys who’d bought my lunch as I walked out the back door, and didn’t notice the guy standing near it. The rain was drizzling harder and the door slipped from my hand and almost hit him.
“I’m sorry.” I offered, giving him a distracted glance, as I looked for the bench she’d told me to wait on. It was on my right and dry due to the protection of the overhang. There was a little alley on the side, but it was dim from the buildings shade and the clouds above, and I suppressed a shiver at its creepiness.
“That the best you can do?” The belligerent tone caught my attention as I realized the man I’d almost hit was still standing there.
I replied, “Excuse me?”
I rubbed my arms, still feeling the sting from my godfather’s tight hold. This guy gave me the same feeling I’d gotten from Dale, and I shot a quick glance back at the door I’d exited. He was firmly in my way now, and a second look down the creepy alley didn’t make it any less creepy. I could try to run down it, but if he caught me I’d be trapped.
He moved closer to me, increasing my discomfort. I scanned the area to see if there was anyone around to hear me scream. It seemed ludicrous to run into two perverts on the same day, but it appeared I was exceptionally unlucky.
“A sweet thing like you could do a better job apologizing to me.”
“Apologizing for what?” I demanded, stiffening my backbone. Bullies needed to be stood up to, and this guy displayed every indicator of a bully.
I hadn’t let my godfather manipulate me into doing something I had no intention of doing with anyone other than a husband and I wasn’t about to let this man try either. “I didn’t even hit you with the door and if I had, it would have been an accident. My apology was sufficient.”
My voice shook only slightly as he loomed over me, trying to use his size to intimidate me. I hadn’t sat down yet, a fact I was grateful for. I wasn’t particularly tall, but I’d take any small advantage I had under the circumstances.
“You talking down to me, bitch? Sufficient. Who uses a word like that? You should be on your knees thanking me for even giving you a second look.”
“I don’t appreciate you calling me that word, and the only man I get on my knees for is Jesus, and I can assure you I would not be thanking anyone for you giving me a second look.” I retorted sharply, my smart mouth promising to be the death of me just like my mother always said. I backed further away from him and closer to the alley. At this point I was willing to take my chances with the creepy alley.
He grabbed my arm, jerking me toward him. Fear sent adrenaline jolting through me, and my flight or fight instinct kicked in. I couldn’t run though, not as long as he held on to my arm. His hard grip squeezed the existing bruises on my arm and caused me to wince.
“Let me go.” My voice rose, hoping to attract the attention of anyone, but the lunch crowd had long gone, and I was alone with him. Fear made my heart pound, but anger was trickling in. Again, I told him, “Let me go.”
Vague memories of church self-defense classes trickled in, and I frantically tried to recall everything I’d ever learned. Demand they release you, if they don’t comply, fight. I chopped my hand against the one he gripped me with, forcing him to break his grip.
“Bitch!”
“I don’t like that word.”
I debated running down the alley, but wasn’t sure I’d make it before he caught me, and he was blocking my way back into the restaurant. I opened my mouth to scream, but his hand slammed against my face cutting me off. The force of his blow sent me reeling back and he rushed me, shoving me into a wall. The pain stunned me for a second, but as he attempted to trap me against the wall, I raised my knee. He blocked me from hitting his groin so I stomped back down on his foot.
“Shit.” He growled, and I knew I’d scored a hit. The knowledge gave me strength and since he still had my arms pinned, I took a chance and head butted him. He let go to reach for his head and I used the opportunity to push him back. I could feel blood on my face, but I ignored it, an unexpected rage coursing through me. This was the second man that had tried to take advantage of me today, and I was done.
My heart hammered in my chest as my breath came in jagged gasps. I could taste blood in my mouth and with it the sudden desire to cause him the same pain. The fear mixed with the rage, and all I could think about was making him feel the same fear. I swung my fist at him, catching him across the jaw and felt pain radiate up my arm.
“Bitch, I’m going to kill you.” He groaned, his head turned from my hit, but his other hand swung out and he managed to backhand me. This only made me angrier, and I shoved both of my fists into his gut. He stumbled, leaning forward and I brought my knee up into his face. This sent him sprawling backwards on to the ground and I followed him, blinded by rage and pain.
“Hey!” I vaguely heard a voice call out. Everything that had happened to me today coalesced into this one moment, and I kicked the guy on the ground. He represented every moment of weakness, fear, and helplessness I’d felt, and I pulled my foot out to kick him again.
“Lovie,” the word broke through my rage, the accented voice distracting me from my desire to kick the living daylights out of my attacker. “You’re a fierce one, aren’t you?” There was a note of admiration in his tone that caught me off guard. “Such a beautiful warrior. But perhaps you’ve done enough.”
I blinked, the small gravel parking lot coming into focus along with the sight of Ian. He stood a bit away, inching closer as I focused on him. A half-smile graced his face, one of his dimples appearing and I swayed slightly, feeling light headed as my rage abandoned me.
I looked back down at the man groaning on the ground in front of me, realizing he was bloody and scared. The dark headed brother, the one I didn’t know the name of stood behind Ian, watching us carefully. They must have heard the scuffle and come running, their shirts damp and getting wetter as the rain came down harder.
My breathing leveled out, and spared a glance at my attacker.
“I shouldn’t kill him.” I wasn’t sure where the words came from. I’d never once contemplated killing a man in my life, but he’d found my breaking point and the desire to end his life was strong and startling. However, I knew it was wrong. It was as if my reason fought with my instinct, and I wasn’t sure which would win out.
“No, that tends to get a bit messy. Police and such. Perhaps it’d be better if we just get you cleaned up instead.” He held a hand out to me and I reached my own hand out automatically, noticing the blood on my knuckles for the first time. The sight seemed to trigger my pain receptors, and I suddenly realized I hurt. My face throbbed, my hands ached, and my entire body felt like one giant bruise. I cried out at the sudden onslaught of pain, and he wi
nced in sympathy. “Feeling it now?”
I nodded carefully, not wanting to trigger another avalanche of pain.
His brother approached us then, reaching for my other elbow, moving slowly so as not to startle me. “Do you want us to call the police? Press charges against him, perhaps?”
They stood there waiting for me to make a decision, and I glanced back at the man still moaning on the ground.
“No, he’s not worth it.” I finally said, my mind detaching itself from the attack and giving it the sensation of a distant memory, one wrapped in cotton for my protection. I had a feeling it might be shock setting in, but couldn’t persuade myself to care. I shuddered as cold rain ran down my neck into my shirt. The mention of the police seemed important, but the thought drifted away as Ian spoke.
“I think we need to get you warm and dry,” he murmured, tucking me close to him. I allowed myself to be led to a car and they placed me inside, turning on the heat full blast. “Did you drive here?”
I blinked at him as he leaned into the car, before jerking my head to indicate no once his question registered. He grasped my hand in his as he examined the cuts on my knuckles, and the hard warmth of his palm felt good to my ice-cold hands.
“Okay, we’ll take you to our hotel and get you cleaned up and then we’ll take you home.” I nodded, not really hearing him as he shut the door. In the silence my mind relieved the last few hours. From my flight, meeting my awful godfather, and being dumped on a street in New Orleans with no money, to the attack a few moments ago, everything felt like a bad dream, something that had happened to someone else. I sat in a daze, warm air blowing against my face, but still feeling chilled to the bone.
Ian was back, sliding into the driver’s seat, the scent of rain and leather mingling with his entrance. I heard his brother enter the car, sitting behind me.
“You did good, love.” Ian reached over the console, and patted my knee gently, before shifting the car into gear. I leaned my head back, and watched the rain streak across the window as he drove us.
Traffic was a mess as cars barely moved, the rain and construction bringing the street to almost a standstill. It didn’t seem to bother my companion as he hummed, occasionally drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to a beat only he could hear. The sounds relaxed me, the heat finally penetrating the cold inside of me and I turned my head to look at him. My eyes were heavy as I took in his profile, the shape still reminding me of a monkey, but now I could see the kindness there too.
A nudge had me blinking my eyes open. The car door was open, and Ian was leaning against it.
“We’re here, love.” A glance showed me we were in the parking lot of a hotel, the brothers standing next to the car door.
“Jane,” I told him, taking the hand he held out to me. “Not that I mind you calling me love, but my name is Jane.”
A smile curled his full lips.
“Jane, what a perfectly proper name. I’m Ian, and this is Michael.”
I nodded, attempting to smile but stopping when I felt a tug on my lip, and fresh blood against my tongue.
“Let’s get you inside and cleaned up.”
“Ian, take her in through the back. Probably not a good idea to go through the lobby with her like this.”
He nodded, his expression serious as he pulled me close. Part of me wondered what I was doing, following two strange men into a hotel, after I’d just fought off another man.
It’s stupid and dangerous, a voice in my head shouted, one that sounded suspiciously like my mother. I ignored it, trusting my instincts that these two were nothing like Dale and my other attacker. Besides, I was too exhausted to come up with an alternate plan. I had to hope my instincts were right and I could trust these brothers. I had no more strength left if they did intend to hurt me.
Michael walked next to us, his eyes watchful.
“We should hurry.” He said, his voice more urgent, and Ian increased his pace. My body protested, the muscles already getting stiff from the fight, but I tried to keep up. I wasn’t sure why the need to rush, but their urgency was contagious.
“She’s hurting.” Ian frowned, slowing back down.
“I’d rather not be spotted with her. It won’t reflect well on either of us.” Michael stepped in front of us, and I almost stepped on his heels as he crowded in, blocking me from view. I trusted them to guide me because all I could see was Michael’s back. I wanted to protest, but my head was swimming and it was all I could do to walk in a straight line.
“Almost there, Jane love.”
His addition of my name to the endearment caused me to smile, the pain of my split lip worth it. We made it through the door and Michael stepped aside so we could slide in. A flash blinded me, and I ducked my head.
“Bloody hell.”
“Fuck.” Michael put himself in front of us again, and Ian tugged me toward the elevator. I wanted to protest their language, but it didn’t seem the time as a guy came running toward us, shouting.
“Michael, Ian who’s the woman?”
“Come on.” Ian hit the elevator button again, his desire to get away clear.
“Ian.” Michael used his name like a warning.
“I’ll deck him.”
“That’s not going to improve the situation. I can already see the headlines now. Father will be so impressed if you brawl with yet another reporter.”
“In for a penny, in for a pound.” He replied, glaring at the photographer charging toward us. Their conversation only confused me further as to why they seemed intent on keeping me hidden.
“Why would you hit the reporter?” I whispered, trying not to move my swollen mouth more than I had to.
“To protect you. The bloody bastards are like carrion birds, scavenging at the merest hint of blood.” The iciness in Ian’s voice caught me by surprise, and I said the first thing that came to mind.
“But you’re heroes.”
Michael flashed a smile at me, his expression appreciative at my observation.
“Pretty sure you took care of the heroics yourself. We were just there for cleanup.”
“But be as it may, a headline which hints at violence and dirty deeds will sell more, and I’d like to prevent you from being dragged in the mud with it.” Ian was resolute, surprising me further, as the one I’d believed to be the more lighthearted of the two showed me his stubborn side.
The elevator door slid open a second later, and we stepped back into it. Michael stood in front of the door, blocking the entrance even as the man shouted questions and tried to take pictures. The door finally slid shut, leaving us in peace.
I found myself slumped against Ian, and he bore my weight with no complaint, keeping an arm around me.
“Why am I so exhausted?”
“Fighting for your life will do that to you. It’s the adrenaline rush. Once you no longer need it, it disappears, leaving you weaker than when you started. It’s your body’s way of giving you every advantage in a fight.”
“Definitely have to remember to pick off my enemies after a fight then.”
A low chuckle surrounded me.
“I do like the way you think.” His arm was a little tighter around me then, and I let it be, feeling too tired and safe to step away.
The elevator stopped, its doors opening and I gave them an anxious look.
“No worries, this is our stop.”
We walked down the hall, coming to the end of the hallway before stopping in front of a door.
“If you’ve got her, I’m going to go do cleanup.” Michael looked down the hall. “See if I can find the reporter, and if not make a few calls. I’d like to avoid having this show up on the news.”
“Go ahead. I’ll get her warm and dry. We’ll go from there.” Ian answered and I felt like I should contribute to the conversation, tell them I was fine, but I couldn’t. My body felt heavy and I didn’t trust myself to make it five feet much less go anywhere. The idea that there was a bed on the other side of the door held m
e captive.
“In we go, love.” Ian swiped the keycard through the lock, a beep proceeding a quiet click. He pulled me inside and set me on the couch. The room seemed oddly large, perhaps because I was used to hostels and tents, and not hotels. But this room was triple the size of any I’d stayed in before. I didn’t even see a bed. Ian had sat me down on a couch facing a wall of windows overlooking Jackson Square. Even with the low clouds and generally dreary day, the view was magnificent.
I couldn’t deny the city’s beauty. There was an old-world elegance to New Orleans, and the room I was in reflected it. The walls were exposed brick, the floors a wide dark plank, an armoire was tucked in one corner, and I suspected the windows were original, with a door that led to a wrought iron balcony.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. It’s not often I get the opportunity to come here, but it’s my favorite place to stay when we do.” He kneeled down in front of me, his hand resting against my calf, and the heat of his palm penetrated through the thin material of my skirt as he gazed up at me. “Would you like a bath? It should help with your muscles. I have a feeling they’ll be quite sore tomorrow.”
I sat there for a minute, deliberating. The idea of laying down on the sofa beckoned me, its soft comfort a haven, but at the same time I didn’t want to get blood on it, and the idea of soaking in hot tub was appealing. A smile hovered on his lips as he awaited my decision.
“Bath,” I finally said with a decisive nod.
“Okay, you stay here and I’ll run the water.” He was gone before I could protest so I leaned back against the couch, and stared out the window at the rainy city. A few minutes later he was back, easing me up and guiding me to the bathroom. The tub was a deep claw foot, steam wafting from the pile of bubbles.
“They give me all these different products. Figured I’d use the bubble bath for once.” He peeked at me from lowered lashes and I smiled, a stupid warmth forming in my chest.
Average Jane Page 2
