Titanium

by Linda Palmer

  It didn't budge.

  Gasping, I turned to defend myself just as a fourth shadow emerged from nowhere. Another guy. He stepped between me and the two zombies who'd given chase, facing them. I easily recognized the wide shoulders, the long legs, the burnt orange hoodie. Without meaning to, I gathered some of it in my hand and stepped close behind him, resting my forehead on his back while I caught my breath.

  His left arm kept me there. "What's up, guys?"

  Peeking around my unknown hero, I saw both zombies glance uneasily over their shoulders at Jason, now strolling up and twirling my key ring around his finger. He eyed the guy in orange, but didn't speak.

  My hero tried again. "I asked what's going on."

  "Nothing," said Jason. "Riley and I are old friends. I thought we could go someplace and talk."

  "You're lying."

  Jason shrugged.

  "Fun's over, dude. Leave now."

  "Not without her."

  "She stays."

  Jason chortled. "In case you haven't noticed, UT, you're a little outnumbered."

  "I like the odds just fine." UT moved his arm to the front, freeing me.

  I instinctively plastered myself against the glass door. Zombies one and two exchanged uneasy glances. If I'd been in their sneakers, I'd have done the same. UT was way bigger. More important, he oozed confidence. In comparison, they looked undernourished and scared.

  "We didn't sign up for this." Short zombie unwittingly confirmed my assessment. His voice actually shook.

  "Shut up."

  Tall zombie shook his head. "He's right. You said she'd be alone, just like always."

  Just like always? What was that supposed to mean?

  Jason's stare nailed him to the asphalt. "I said 'shut up,' morons."

  "I'm outta here." Tall zombie pivoted on his heel and began walking away. A couple of yards from us, he bolted into the shadows. Shorty hesitated, but only for a second before he bolted in the opposite direction.

  That left Jason alone, but he didn't seem worried as he looked into UT's eyes. "Who are you? Not a boyfriend. Not unless you two hooked up in the last fifteen minutes."

  Zander visibly tensed. "How long have you been stalking her?"

  "I'm not."

  "Liar."

  Jason shrugged again and shifted his gaze to me. "You have no family here and fewer friends."

  How could he possibly know that?

  UT widened his stance a little. "She has me, and if you ever threaten her again, I'm the one you'll be dealing with. Got it?"

  Jason smirked...until he was lifted onto his toes by a fistful of his black hoodie.

  UT got nose to nose with him. "Got it, ass wipe?"

  Hands up in surrender, Jason nodded and was released with a shove that sent him stumbling back. As he meticulously smoothed his hoodie, his obvious bemusement told me he thought we were the psychos and not him.

  "Now hand over her keys and get the hell out of here."

  Jason tossed them to him. With a flippant nod to me, he turned, whistling a non-tune that lingered eerily even after the dark swallowed him up.

  Zander

  I turned to check on the Riley chick, now sagging against the door as if she might pass out. "You okay?"

  She rounded on me, her brown eyes swimming with tears. "How could you possibly know this would happen?"

  "Didn't. It was a guess."

  "So based on a guess, you hung around until the wee hours of the morning to save me, a girl you don't even know?"

  "Okay. It was more gut instinct due to intense training."

  "You're a cop?"

  "Special forces."

  "You look too young for that."

  "You know what they say about looks and books." I solemnly held out her keys.

  She reached to take them, but her trembling hand resulted in a miss. They hit the asphalt with a jangle. I let her try to retrieve them twice before I coolly scooped up the ring, took her hand, and placed the keys in her open palm. Her gaze intercepted mine as I closed her fingers over the ring.

  "Who are you?"

  "Zander Bennett." I solemnly offered her a formal handshake.

  She stared at my right hand for a sec before she gave me hers so we could politely shake as if nothing had happened. But something had. And as the reality of the past few minutes continued to sink in, I watched her come unglued. The tears in her eyes suddenly spilled down her cheeks. Gulping sobs wracked her body. Yep, a total meltdown.

  Aw, man.

  Chapter Three

  Riley

  Zander started toward me.

  Embarrassed, I raised a hand to stop him.

  He kept coming, wrapping his arms around me in a decidedly awkward hug that felt wonderful all the same. I don't know how long we stood like that--me, clinging to a stranger; him, letting me and adding an occasional brotherly pat on my shoulder-- before I made myself disengage and step back.

  I wiped my face on my sleeve and gave him a damp smile. "Sorry about that. I'm okay now."

  "You don't have to lie to me. Anyone would be upset after something like that." He tucked a finger under my chin and raised it until our eyes met. "Do you know them?"

  "No."

  "Yet they know you. Do you blog? Post your life on Facebook, Twitter, YouTube?"

  "I Facebook. My life is too boring to blog or tweet, and I've never put anything on YouTube."

  "Yet they know you. You should call the police."

  "No way."

  Zander's eyebrows shot up. "You have a problem with authority?"

  I shook my head. "I can't risk my aunt and uncle finding out. It took me my entire freshman year at a community college to convince them that I'm old enough to attend UT and survive alone in the big city. They'd totally wig if they knew what just happened and nag until I gave in and moved back to Rocky Falls, aka the arm pit of Texas." I winced. "I'm whining, aren't I?"

  Was that a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth?

  "It's not that I don't love my family. How could I not when they've been so good to me? But I've shared a bedroom with Jillian since I moved in with them, and I want to go to UT. Contrary to what Leslie and Clint think, business courses are not for everyone."

  Zander appeared to be a little lost, and no wonder.

  "Now I'm babbling. Must be something I do after being attacked by zombies at midnight in dark parking lots." I choked back the fresh sob rising in my throat.

  "So it happens a lot?" That hint of a smile was back.

  "Joking." Sniff. Sniff.

  "Knew that." He glanced toward my car. "Are you good to drive? I could follow you home to make sure you get there."

  Relief made me weak. "Would you? It's just a few miles."

  "Wait here--" He glanced around uncertainly. "Actually, why don't you give me a lift to my truck? It's up front."

  "Okay." With a quick nod, I headed to my car. As I slid behind the wheel, he got in on the passenger side. Was I scared to be alone with this guy I didn't know? Not for a second. In fact, I'd never felt safer, which was only a little odd. He'd just saved me, after all. We didn't talk as I drove to his black truck. He got out, climbed into his own vehicle, and waved me on.

  Zander

  What the hell am I doing?

  Not what I'd planned, for sure.

  Planned? That was a freakin' joke. I'd been winging it since I followed Riley to the mall parking lot when she got off. And thank God I had. The thought of what might've happened made me taste puke.

  Now here I was, following her Honda to the bad side of town. Dr. Davies would've been proud of me, I guess. I wasn't, though. I knew the real reason I'd offered to follow her home-- loneliness. Being around Riley, even under these trying circumstances, was sort of like having my own personal sunbeam.

  Shiny enough to blind me.

  Hot enough to burn me.

  Not that she'd do it on purpose. I knew instinctively that she'd never. But a guy as dark as me couldn't help being drawn to her li
ght. Yeah, I had the thousand-yard stare that so many vets had. And to save her own sanity, Riley would have no choice but flight when things got too heavy, which they would.

  "This can't go any further," I told the rearview mirror.

  There.

  I'd made my decision.

  What a relief.

  Now all I had to do was walk her to her door, run back to my truck, and drive away.

  I could do it.

  I had to.

  Chapter Four

  Riley

  Though I intended to drive straight to the duplex I rented, neon lights and a growling stomach made me detour. Impulsively, I turned off the main road and into a parking lot, where I got out of the car. Zander pulled in beside me and rolled down his window. "You live at Waffle House?"

  I risked a smile. "No. I was hoping you'd let me buy you some breakfast as a thank you for saving my butt."

  He hesitated just long enough that I was embarrassed.

  "What am I saying? It's two in the morning. You probably have someone wondering where in the heck you are." I started to get back in my car.

  "No, wait. I'll eat."

  I didn't try to hide my pleasure. As we walked to the door, I considered the conundrum of me being attacked by three unknowns in the parking lot one minute and hopefully feeding another unknown the next. Were the shadows of harsh reality lurking on the rim of this bright spot? I suspected they were, and dreaded the moment I'd be alone with my thoughts.

  But that moment wasn't now.

  We sat in a booth and ordered a coffee apiece and our breakfasts, with neither of us saying much. When the silence got weird, I began asking questions any inquiring mind would want answered. "So is there?"

  "Is there what?"

  "A someone waiting for you to come home?"

  "No."

  "How long have you been stationed at Fort Sam Houston?"

  "I'm not."

  "Oh. When you said you were Army, I assumed--"

  "I was discharged almost a year ago."

  His bitter tone didn't go unnoticed. "Sorry. You don't have to talk about yourself if you don't want to."

  "I'd definitely rather talk about you."

  I sighed and absently turned my mug round and round with my fingers. "Believe me, even black coffee won't keep you awake for that story."

  "You don't really believe that."

  "Excuse me?"

  "That came out wrong." He thought for a minute, self- consciously rubbing his scruffy chin while he did it. "You're obviously interesting to the creep who tried to kidnap you. Not that your beauty wasn't enough to catch his eye. I'm not saying that. I'd never say that."

  I snorted a laugh. "Am I pretty on a good hair day? Sure. Beautiful? Never."

  Zander sat back. "Now that, you believe."

  "I have mirrors, okay? And I'm nothing if not realistic. I've had to be."

  "What's that saying? 'Beauty's in the eye of the beholder'?"

  I shook my head. "Trust me. Jason didn't attack tonight because of how I look."

  "You know his name?"

  "I doubt it." I told him everything "Jason" had said to me. "Are you going to tell me how you really knew I was in trouble?"

  "Already did. My training. It would've been hard to miss those idiots scoping you out in the food court."

  "But Jason was alone when he bought his tacos."

  "The others were lurking. And, Riley...? There was a fourth one."

  Gulp. Just then, the waitress handed us our food. Grateful for the diversion, I dug into my breakfast of waffles and bacon and tried to ignore the sudden wave of nausea that threatened to bring it right back up. For several minutes, neither of us talked.

  Zander finally broke the silence. "There has to be a reason those guys have stalked you. Tell me about your family. What did you mean when you said you moved in with them? Why weren't you already there?"

  "My mom died when I was nine. Since my dad had deserted us in spirit several months earlier, my aunt and uncle stepped in and took me. Not that he fought them or anything. By all accounts he was relieved to be free of fatherhood. My cousins are the closest thing to siblings I've ever known. They're my family now."

  "Are your aunt and uncle rich?"

  I almost laughed. "Leslie is a teacher. Clint's with Hartford, but not their top agent by any stretch. So no, they're not rich, though Clint is pretty smart about money. When he sold Mom's house and car, he invested what he got for it. That pays for my tuition and books."

  "What about your real dad?"

  "We don't talk." I remembered the email. "Or didn't. Few people even know he exists." I caught Zander's frown. "I don't want my identity to be based on his poor decisions."

  He nodded as if he got it. "One more question. Is your real dad loaded?"

  "Maybe. He has a good job now, and sure hasn't gone broke paying child support." Remembering Leslie's slip, I dug my cell from my purse. I'd silenced it at work. Now I saw that she'd been blowing it up with calls. "Actually, that's not exactly true." I stashed my phone back in my bag and deliberately sipped my coffee, which had gone as cold as my mood and tasted pretty nasty. "It's your turn now."

  He didn't speak for a moment, as if thinking. "This is what I'll tell you. I'm from Amarillo. I have parents plus an older sister. She's married and living in Houston with her husband and two kids. Dad's a partner in a big law firm. Mom does the club thing--garden, civic, country. My enlistment wasn't what the folks had in mind for me, so when I was inj--" He as good as screeched to a halt, his eyes widening slightly.

  I waited and wondered.

  "What I meant was when the Army discharged me, I transferred everything here. I'm currently renting a trailer and hope to enroll at UT next fall to finish up my education."

  "'Everything' meaning what, exactly?"

  He hesitated again before answering, his gaze unwavering as he clearly came to some kind of decision. "My medical records. I transferred them to Brook Army Medical Center."

  Oh, no. "You were discharged because you were hurt." It wasn't a question. Somehow I knew.

  "Yeah."

  "Where were you stationed?"

  "Afghanistan."

  I leaned forward and covered both his hands with mine. "I'm so sorry, Zander. Thank you for serving our country."

  He eased free and sat back. "That came from the heart."

  "Of course it did. I have a lot of respect for anyone who fights for me."

  "Some people don't think it's important because the trouble isn't here, in the US."

  "There's nothing more valiant than protecting the innocent no matter where they are. Besides, the trouble might be here if there weren't soldiers like you. I just wish there wasn't so much injury and loss of life. Doing the noble thing has such a high price sometimes."

  Zander avoided my sincere gaze by staring at his coffee. I couldn't imagine what he was thinking.

  "Are you living at Fisher House?" I knew it served wounded veterans in some way.

  "Nah. Fisher House provides free lodging for families of vets."

  "Oh. My bad."

  "I'm living in a trailer park near the hospital. It's not much, but keeps me off the street, I guess." He pushed his plate away before looking pointedly at mine. "Are you finished?"

  "Yes."

  He reached for the ticket. I got to it first. "My treat, remember? You can get the next one." Our eyes met. I waited for his reaction to my brazen, hopeful suggestion.

  He cleared his throat, a nervous sound. "There's going to be a next one?"

  "I really, really hope so."

  Zander's eyes locked with mine. He looked...troubled.

  Baffled by that, I still managed a smile. "Are you in?"

  It took a second, but he slowly smiled back. "I think I am."

  Fifteen or so minutes after leaving Waffle House, we got to my duplex, tucked in a dark neighborhood on the wrong side of the tracks. I credited that to the roads being oddly bare of traffic, but I'd never actually driven t
hem at that time of day before. No late nights out with the girls for me. I'd left my best friends back in Rocky Falls and hadn't yet met a classmate or coworker I wanted to hang with on the weekends. But I'd only been in San Antonio since August and was admittedly hard to get to know, or so I'd been told.

  I had my insecurities, I guess. Any girl abandoned by someone who should've loved her naturally would. And to meet people with similar interests, I'd have to visit places that I liked--the zoo, the museums, the Alamo, Dolphin Cove. That took free time. At the moment, I didn't have much. Hopefully that would change when I found a housemate.

  Zander pulled into my graveled driveway right behind me. As we walked the short distance to the dark porch on my side of the duplex, I watched him size up the area. I waited until we were at the door before speaking. "What's the verdict?"

  "You should leave your outside light on if you're getting home late, or in this case, early."

  "I agree. Anything else?"

  "If there's a spare key inside that fake turtle in the flower bed, you need to hide it somewhere else. Better yet, don't leave one outside at all...unless you make it a habit to lock yourself out."

  "What fake turtle?" I wasn't exactly into flower beds, the reason weeds had overtaken this one.

  Zander pointed it out.

  "I've never noticed that before." I fumbled through the keys on my ring for the one that would unlock the front door. Several seconds went by before I realized it wasn't there; several more passed before I guessed why. I felt the blood drain from my face. "Oh God."

  "What?"

  "My house key is gone."

  Zander got very still. "You're sure?"

  "Of course I'm sure! My freakin' key isn't on this freakin' ring!" I stuck it in his face and shook it.

  "All right. Okay. Don't panic."

  "Don't panic? When Jason can get into my house and I can't?" Wide-eyed, I backed away from the door. "What if he's in there now, just waiting for me to walk in alone?"

  "You're not alone, remember?" Zander scooped up the resin turtle and flipped it over. Sure enough there was a sliding slot. Opening it, he pulled out a key, which he put into the door lock. A twist released it. "Must've belonged to the renter before you."