“Who the hell are you?” she asked the criminal.
He craned his neck and made eye contact with her. It was Derek, the boy she’d kicked in the basement of the restaurant. His hair was the same as before, but his gold earring was missing.
He gave her a sly smile. “Hey, gorgeous.”
Glassford Girl: Part 2
CHAPTER TWELVE
September 25, 2014
12:31 a.m.
The horn on the police van blared and the vehicle swerved hard to the right, sending Emily Heart flying into the lap of the handsome criminal sitting across from her. The handcuffs around her wrists hit the boy in the neck, making him gasp in pain.
The beat of Derek’s heart pounded at her chest as she slid down his body and plopped on the floor of the paddy wagon. She adjusted the blanket covering her naked body, making sure to conceal everything before he looked down.
His hands were cuffed behind his back, but hers were in front, put there by the cops before they shoved her in. The officers were originally going to use their standard behind-the-back cuffing procedure, but she pleaded with them to keep her hands in front. Otherwise, she’d never be able to keep the blanket closed. They agreed.
Derek stood up, spun around, and bent down to help her off the deck.
Her butt found the aluminum bench on her side of the transport and slid into place.
Derek turned and sat across from her. “You okay?”
She nodded, enchanted by his chivalrous act. How many boys, or men for that matter, would have done what he just did with their wrists immobilized? Not many, she decided.
Two heavy thumps rang out along the wall separating the back of the van from the two cops in the driver’s section.
“Anyone hurt back there?” one of them asked.
“What the hell is going on?” Derek answered.
The access window slid open between the two compartments and a poorly lit cop’s face appeared. “City bus almost T-boned us. Are you two all right?”
“Barely. You seriously need to think about installing seatbelts back here. Hate for us to die before you lock us up and throw away the key.”
“Check behind you, Einstein. See that safety strap? Use it or lose it,” he said, before slamming the window shut.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Phoenix’s finest,” Derek quipped.
Emily laughed, though she didn’t think his remark was all that funny; but time jumping can warp your sense of humor. She had been traveling through time for two years, ever since she was thirteen years old. That’s two years in Emily time, though it had been spread out over almost thirty years for the normals in real time. Her BFF, Stacy, was now on the other side of forty, and probably didn’t do much squealing anymore. Except maybe in the bedroom with whatever man was smart enough to have pinned her down with a wedding ring and a house full of kids.
She sighed, thinking about her future and what it could never be like. Her condition wouldn’t allow it. She ached inside, knowing that she’d never have a family of her own, let alone date, fall in love, and get married to the love of her life.
She couldn’t track Stacy down for a reunion, either, not with her best friend having aged normally for all those years while Emily hadn’t. There was simply no easy way to explain it to a normal, not without that person calling the grabby men with the straightjackets and rubber rooms.
Derek flashed his thick, full eyelashes at her, sending a charge throughout her body. She gazed into the eyes of the pretty boy that she hadn’t seen in over a year, not since the chance meeting in the basement of that high-end Italian restaurant. The overhead dome light in the van flickered twice, but that didn’t stop her from memorizing every curve of his perfect face.
She didn’t believe in love at first sight, but figured that’s what most people would say she was experiencing. There was no denying that she was attracted to Derek. But love at first sight? Hell no. It was a silly concept.
Stacy used to talk about it relentlessly, but that was long ago, back before the night of The Taking. Stacy was a true believer in that single, magical moment in a young girl’s life when she meets the boy she’s going to fall in love with and marry. Stacy was an emotionally charged girl, seemingly waiting for that life-changing event to happen with every age-appropriate boy she met.
Emily knew it to be nothing more than fantasy, brought on by endless hours of wishful daydreaming. She knew better. Dreams were for normal people. Her life was just the opposite—an abomination to all things human.
Then again, here she was, feeling a tsunami of emotions for a boy she’d barely met.
She convinced herself that her gift of second sight was to blame for everything she was thinking and feeling—in her mind, her heart, and her body. It had provided her with a profound look inside Derek, absorbing all he was in the blink of an eye.
That level of emotional connection with another human being changes a girl. She knew him—the real him. Not the gangster façade that had been baked on like a ceramic shell for protection.
Even if she tried, she couldn’t stop herself from being attracted to his gentle and kind spirit. It was something she’d rarely encountered since being abducted and genetically altered against her will. At least not from a boy who was her age, and beyond drop-dead gorgeous.
But she also knew they could never be together. Not with her time-jumping condition. Any sudden burst of emotion could trigger a cascading event that would send her naked and alone to some random point in the future.
Relationships are filled with thousands of intense moments like that, meaning love and dating were things she could never have; not if she wanted to remain in the present.
Just bad luck, she decided. Life sucked. Her life sucked. It wasn’t fair, not on any level. And there was little she could do about it.
Focus on the now, Em! she yelled quietly inside. Focus on what you can control. Everything else is a waste of time and energy.
She also couldn’t help that Derek was sitting handcuffed on the bench right across from her. He was close enough to sense, smell, touch, even kiss. Yet, that was all it could ever be—infatuation from a distance.
She let the tantalizing thoughts fade away. They weren’t meant for her. Not with her entire world having just been turned upside down, inside out, and sideways. And all of it happened in the past ten minutes.
She knew she had jumped ten minutes ago because she’d ended up naked on the street in the middle of a four-way shootout between the Phoenix Police Department, her new friend and beat reporter, Jim Miller, and two violent street gangs—the Glassford Gatos and the West Side Locos.
She knew Jim had been shot multiple times because she’d seen it happen in front of her, then she’d been handcuffed and had her butt groped by a member of law enforcement before being tossed into the back of the van, wearing only her birthday suit and a blanket.
Derek glanced at Emily again, sucking her in with those amazing blue eyes.
Just as before, she was flooded with a surge of powerful emotions that showed her all that he was. She loved how his life force warmed her heart and brought her to a place of serenity. But she couldn’t allow herself to remain there.
Rule number ten flashed in her mind: No boys.
She fought the feelings back, not wanting them to cloud her judgment. However, each time she connected with Derek, the attraction grew tenfold. She knew she was fighting a losing battle.
Emily needed time to formulate a new set of rules and a few more lists. Something, anything that would give her the ability to regulate what was building inside.
She probably needed to get away from him, or at least not look at him. Either choice would protect her from the effects of the psychic connection. She knew that was the logical thing to do, but her head wasn’t making the decisions, her heart was, and it was beating with a wallop. Everything she was feeling and thinking was a jumbled mess of chaos and contradiction.
She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t thin
k. What was wrong with her? Why was she letting this happen?
Come on, Em, you’re stronger than this!
The channels in her mind started changing, switching between logic and love and back again. Over and over they flipped, making every moment harder to control than the last. She was walking close to the precipice; dangerously close. The jump process could begin any second.
“Aren’t you going to say anything, gorgeous?” Derek asked, scrunching his eyebrows and tilting his head.
Her mind was reeling. So was her body. There wasn’t time to figure any of this out. Derek needed to shut up. He was making things worse every time he opened his mouth. But she didn’t want him to stop. She wanted his attention. His admiration. His love.
Wait. No, Em. You can’t. Get these thoughts out of your head. It’s making you crazy.
Nothing made sense. She was out of control. Her trusted logic was failing her. What the hell was going on?
She felt like screaming. Maybe it would help? Maybe it wouldn’t. She didn’t know. She didn’t care. Wait, yes she did. So much confusion and doubt. It was smothering her. Somebody, please make it stop!
Then everything switched again and her logic returned. Thank God. She drew in two deep breaths and let the disgusting memory of the cop squeezing her butt play in her mind. It helped her flush the sexual tension from her system and lower her heart rate. But then, just as she was getting a handle on things, Derek spoke again.
“Okay, I get that you don’t want to talk to me. How about a smile? Just a little one? It won’t hurt. I promise . . . Come on, beautiful, just a little one. For me?”
The pressure in her chest tripled and the passionate thoughts returned, crashing into the logic shield she had constructed in her head. Somehow she found the strength to look away and beat back a smile that threatened to take control of her lips.
He finally looked away.
She relaxed and put her head back, resting it on the wall of the van. Her eyes closed and her memories took over, taking her back to the first and only time they’d met. It had been under another set of inauspicious circumstances—right before a fatal gang shootout in that Italian restaurant—when Emily had been protecting Junie and was forced to kick Derek in the groin and run.
This time with Derek is going to be different, she promised herself. Just need to stay focused and in control.
She cracked her right eye open ever so slightly, figuring she could sneak a peek at the adorable boy whose mere presence was controlling the rhythm of her heart.
She realized she’d been sitting in silence like a brainless zombie, staring into his sexy eyes for at least five minutes, all the while making it seem like she wanted Derek to beg for her attention. If he only knew what a total wreck she was inside.
What a dork, she thought—her, not him. She was furious at herself for not talking to him, thinking that he’d probably get annoyed and lose interest.
Wait! Should she care? No? Yes? She didn’t know. Why can’t she think straight? Arrrg.
The struggle raging between her heart and her mind was nearing its pinnacle. She needed to make a decision, and soon. She sat up and opened her eyes, pretending to be calm, cool, and collected.
Derek looked at her and didn’t seem upset.
Maybe she hadn’t messed it all up. She couldn’t risk taking another read of him, so she decided to proceed like a normal.
Play it cool, Em, don’t mess it up, she told herself.
But then something that she hadn’t planned happened. She smiled at him.
He smiled back, looking relieved. “That’s better. I knew you had one in there somewhere. Wasn’t so difficult, now was it?”
She shook her head and wanted to say something, anything, but all she could do was grin again, this time even bigger, not knowing whether her reaction was out of nervousness or something else.
The pressure in her chest intensified and a massive knot in her stomach began to grow, making it difficult to concentrate.
The van hit a bump and they bounced up off their benches and then slammed back down, hard, making her butt hurt. The van stopped briefly, then took off in a lurch, sending both of them off balance and smashing against the back door.
They righted themselves, then slid forward along their respective benches to the front of the prisoner area. He watched her the whole time, and she watched him.
“Makes you wonder if a blind squirrel is drivin’ this rig.”
She laughed.
“Do I make you nervous?”
She shook her head.
“Then why won’t you talk to me?”
She shrugged, unable to think of a response. None of the word choices she came up with sounded good. Total dorkness.
“I don’t bite,” Derek said with a devilishly sly grin. “At least not on the first date.”
At that moment, Emily made her decision. She was going to fight through the tightness in her chest and the pain in her belly. It was time to give in to her feelings and talk to him.
But when she opened her mouth to say something witty and coy, a wave of post-jump nausea came flooding out.
She leaned forward and puked on Derek’s expensive Doc Martens.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jim Miller opened his eyes and glanced down across his crumpled body lying on the bloody street. He couldn’t believe it. In all his time in the Marines, he’d never been shot. Sure, he’d been blown up, grazed by shrapnel, thrown from a chopper when it was hit by a rocket-propelled grenade while hovering fifteen feet off the ground, but never once had he actually taken a bullet. Until now.
He was in the middle of the street with two paramedics working on him at a furious pace. He couldn’t see their faces, not with the halogen lights of the ambulance behind them, making their bodies look like nothing more than darkened silhouettes.
A searing pain screamed from his leg. His back felt as though it had been hit repeatedly with a sledgehammer, and his head was pounding. His entire body was going numb, and a sharp ringing in his ears made it difficult to hear everything the paramedics were saying as they worked on him.
“One, two, three, up!” one of them said as they hoisted him onto a backboard, sending another wave of pain radiating across his body. Then the pain roared again, this time when they lifted the backboard onto a rolling gurney.
The edges of his vision filled with black flecks and fuzzy globs. He was beginning to fade. He fought it, trying to stay conscious, not wanting the final curtain to close forever.
He had to stay alive long enough to find out if Emily, the girl he’d been tracking for decades, had gotten away safely. Had she been hit in the gunfight? He felt protective of her, even though they’d just officially met.
He knew there was something different about the young redhead—not just because of all the evidence he’d compiled over the years, but from their conversation in his restaurant.
Emily was utterly and completely alone. She needed someone to help her. To protect her. Someone who believed in the paranormal, like him.
He heard two new male voices chatting nearby as the paramedics wheeled him to the ambulance.
“Never seen anything like it, Sergeant. One minute it was just this guy and the armed perp from the Gatos, and the next minute, there she was—naked, standing in the middle of the crossfire. It was like she just popped up out of thin air.”
“You must have been seeing things. Girls just don’t appear out of nowhere. Especially naked girls in the middle of a gun battle. I’m sure it was just your mind playing tricks on you. Happens all the time. The adrenaline from the shootout can do that.”
“I know what I saw, boss.”
“At this point, it doesn’t matter how she ended up there. Just that she did.”
“It’s a miracle she didn’t catch a stray.”
“You actually think she’s the Glassford Girl? We’ve been looking all over for her.”
“It must be. She matches the description perfectly.”
&
nbsp; “But why show up now? Why here?”
“I don’t know, but she’s obviously involved in all of this somehow.”
“With the gang or with this guy?”
“My money’s on the gang, Sarge, since it wouldn’t be the first time she’s been involved with that element. But it’s up to CID and the captain to decide, assuming she doesn’t lawyer up after booking.”
Jim let out the breath he’d been holding in his lungs; Emily was alive. It wasn’t great news that she was taken into custody, but at least she was unharmed. Naked, though? That didn’t make any sense.
Another jolt of pain overwhelmed him when the paramedics pushed the gurney into the back of the ambulance. He winced and slipped back into darkness.
***
Emily straightened herself on the bench in the police van, feeling like a complete spaz for throwing up on Derek.
He must hate me by now, she figured, feeling a drip of vomit swaying from her chin. She ran a quick swipe across her face with her cuffed hands, hoping to get it all.
“Sorry about your shoes,” she said, attempting another smile. Then another wave of nausea came. She couldn’t stop it. She leaned forward and heaved on Derek again, this time hitting his pants as well as his shoes.
She looked up, trying to keep her stomach in check. It made a couple of summersaults, but finally settled down. No more nausea, no more puking.
“You okay?” Derek asked, standing up and using his right forearm to wipe bile from her chin.
His touch was electric. She felt it seep deep inside of her, almost like a jump precursor—but different. It was adrenaline mixed with something else that she couldn’t identify. Something that until recently, she’d never felt before.
“Just getting a better look,” she said, trying to sound cool as she checked him out. “Classic low-cut 1461s. Six eyelets. Sweet. Subtle. Not really standard issue for a West Side Loco, though.”
“Wow, you do remember me. Wasn’t sure there for a moment.”
“Yep. How are your balls?” she answered, wondering where those words and her attitude were coming from.
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