by Dana Mentink
“Why’d ya do that for? Stupid lady.” He narrowed his gaze. His skin was pocked with acne and his eyes flashed dark. Tufts of dirty-blond hair poked out from under his cap. He glowered, intimidating her. His stale breath mingled with hers. Beer and tobacco made her nauseous with their stench.
“Clinic’s closed.” She tried her calm approach again, fully aware he wasn’t here for medical care. He was here for prescription drugs. He had to be. He slammed his fist against the door a second time, inches from her head. She slid out from under his arm, holding solidly on to the handle of the broom.
Come on, James. Come on, James. He had to have heard the pounding.
The thug cursed at her with a gruff voice. He stalked toward her; his menacing expression made her chest ache and she gasped for a breath. He raised his arm again and this time Lily mustered courage she didn’t know she had. She hoisted the broom and slammed it down against his forearm. The wood splintered.
His bold laugh vibrated through her, frying her frayed nerves. He snatched the broom from her hands and tossed it aside. Seizing her shoulder, he shoved her down, her knee taking the brunt of her weight. A sharp pain exploded through her kneecap.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” He kicked the loose gravel, the tiny pebbles assaulting her bare arms. Looking up, she squinted against the sunlight. The taut muscles in the thug’s jaw spoke of his restraint.
Please, dear Lord, protect me.
“Don’t hurt me. I’m a doctor here at the clinic.” She scrunched her eyes shut against another onslaught of gravel. She pulled her legs in and maneuvered around. Slowly. “I’m going to sit here.” She lifted her hands in a nonthreatening gesture. “You don’t have to hurt me.”
“You think that gives you a pass? Just because you’re a doc-tor?” Spittle flew from his lips. The deranged look in his eyes sent fear coursing through her, making her limbs tremble. “Maybe I score extra points if I get me a lady doc-tor?”
Her mind raced. “Please, you don’t have to do this. You haven’t done anything you can’t undo. Please.” Leaning against the side of the house, she pushed to a standing position. He seemed too agitated to notice.
The back door burst open, catching Lily’s ankle. The thug growled at her, scrabbled backward, his arms pinwheeling before he crashed to the ground. With amazing agility, he sprang to his feet and reached behind him at his waist.
Lily’s throat tightened.
“Stop!” James roared, training a gun on the thug. The man’s mouth flattened; something flickered across his flinty eyes only she could see. Indecision? Recognition? Defeat?
The attacker seemed to hesitate a fraction before spinning around and jackrabbiting out of there, escaping through the evergreens. A loud muffler fired up and a vehicle tore away from the apartment parking lot. Closing her eyes, Lily breathed a sigh of relief and fell against the house.
James tucked the gun into his waistband.
Lily lifted a shaky hand. “You have a gun....” It seemed a ridiculous thing to say; he was in the army, but still. She hadn’t expected him to have it at the clinic. Her teeth chattered.
What if he hadn’t?
“Are you okay?” He gripped her forearm possessively.
She blinked against the grit scraping against her eyelids. Discreetly, she tested her weight on her knee, careful to keep her expression neutral. “Fine,” she bit out. “Just a little banged up.”
James eased his grip and gently ran his thumb down her arm, deep concern radiating from his kind brown eyes. “He got away so fast, I didn’t get a good look at him. He had his hat tugged down. What happened? What did he do to you?”
“I...I think he wanted drugs. From the clinic.” She licked her parched lips. “He never said. When I tried to stop him, he threw me on the ground. But I’m fine. Really.” Sidestepping his touch, she brushed her khakis. Her violent fall had torn a hole at the knee. She was going to be sore tomorrow, that was for sure.
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Tell me what happened.”
“He came from there.” She pointed at the trees. Reality was settling in behind her eyes, pulsing, throbbing, aching. “I had the back door propped open so I could take out the trash. But I got it closed just in time.”
James ran a hand over her shoulder. “Why would you slam the door shut?” A line creased his forehead.
“I was afraid of what would happen if he got inside. I saw you with Mrs. Benson and her granddaughter. I was afraid of what he might do.” Her knees bent, then straightened. “I’ve heard so many stories of crazed druggies....” The memory of the thug’s sour breath made her nauseous. Blinking, she inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the smell of summer and clean. James always smelled so clean.
“My only thought was to keep him outside. Away from the clinic,” she said.
He smoothed her hair and tucked a strand behind her ear. “You should have never tried to take him on yourself.”
Lowering her gaze, she bit her bottom lip. A new feeling, one she didn’t want to acknowledge, softened the shield around her heart.
He leaned back to look at the hole in her pant leg. “Let’s go inside so I can take a look at your knee.” Unexpected embarrassment heated her cheeks at the thought of James tending her injury. She had been so stupid. She should have never gone out back by herself. Even though they were in Orchard Gardens, she knew the buddy system was safer. She had heard the horror stories on the news about thugs and their desperate drug addictions.
Drugs didn’t care about zip codes.
Shaking her head, Lily held up her hands. “I’m fine, really.” She took a few steps, stifling a grimace. “See? Perfectly fine.”
He eyed her skeptically. “Let’s call the police.”
He unlocked the door and guided her inside with a hand to the small of her back.
Lily glanced up at him. “I’m sorry. Now we’re going to be late for your grandfather’s birthday party.”
James waved his hand in dismissal. “I’ll deal with him. He’ll understand.” He leaned in close, his breath whispering across her cheek. “I can’t let anything happen to his star researcher.”
Copyright © 2014 by Alison Stone
ISBN-13: 9781460335468
FLOOD ZONE
Copyright © 2014 by Dana Mentink
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