Ten Days of Perfect (November Blue #1)

Relief escorted air away from my lungs as I heard the truck motor further into the distance, but a thought in the back of my nosey head made the blood leave my face. The rusty truck carrying Bill and Max had left, but the other vehicle was still here. Spike was still hanging around the garage, and I didn’t know if he was OK.

The remaining street lights flickered on as sunset whispered its goodbye. I figured I should call 911 if the guy was still lying on the side of the garage; I could no longer see him in the shadows from where I was standing. Even if he was gone, I thought I should still call. I walked cautiously across the top of the parking lot, looking for Spike. A shadowed figure slowly stood up, and my breath was slammed beneath the trap door of my throat.

“H-hey! Are you ok sir?” I managed. For all he knew, I had just walked over.

“I’m fine,” he clutched his ribs as he coughed, “thanks.” Well, that was convincing.

“You don’t look too good,” I said as I leaned in close enough to see him moving with a strained and painful effort. I remained far enough away to leave room between us should I need to run. “Can I call an ambulance for you, or something?”

“Look, you need to get out of here. It’s dark, you’re alone, and those guys might circle back.” He didn’t look up. Speaking through clenched teeth, he had his hands on his knees, regulating his breathing.

Why did he say “those guys?” How did he know I’d just witnessed the fight?

“What guys.” It wasn’t a question, really, since I didn’t need an answer.

“I saw you dropping off your car when I came down the front street, there, earlier.” He pointed to the front of the lot and took a deep breath before he straightened himself all the way upright. He stood maybe 6’0”, 6’1”; it was hard to tell given the distance I kept.

“Those idiots were sitting in their truck waiting for me. I didn’t want you to get caught up in the middle if I had shown up right on time. They must have had music on and didn’t hear you pull in.”

“I . . . uh . . . I’m really sorry . . .” I stood there like a deer in the headlights. He’d just suggested that he planned on being on time for whatever the hell that was all about. He saw a woman alone in a garage parking lot and circled the block, effectively making him late. He was beat up, in part, for protecting some woman he didn’t even know. Me.

“Sorry? For dropping off your car? Look . . .just . . . we both better get out of here. I’m fine, no need for medics. Get home, or wherever you’re going.” His words were even. He sounded like a man who rarely took “no” for an answer, and expected me to follow his orders. He turned without bravado and headed for his car.

“I . . . OK . . .” I just stood there as the ice-cold wave of the last half hour crashed violently over me. Spike turned around and stared in my direction for a minute before speaking. He couldn’t see my face, of that I was sure, due to the darkness that swept in without invitation.

“Shit. I’m sorry. Are you ok? I don’t know what you heard or saw and it’s probably best if you don’t think too much about it. Are you OK to get home?” He sounded genuinely concerned.

I suddenly had no words; my throat was tight under the noose of panic. If I’d blinked, I would have started crying right there in the parking lot, so I kept my eyes wide and slowly turned to go home.

“Hey, you alright?” he repeated, his voice up an octave. He took a step forward, landing just under the streetlight to the side of the parking lot.

He was standing much closer to me now, but still about 20 feet away. Despite the haunting shadows cast by the street light, I could make out more than his height. He was broad, tight but not a muscle-head, with a narrow waist that held up his dark blue jeans. A snug red t-shirt clung to his shoulders and rested just on top of his belt. He was pretty hot and that thought annoyed me, given the circumstances. I couldn’t make out his face, but could tell he had dark hair and a fair complexion.

“No, yea, it’s fine. Glad you’re ok.” My emotions bound an unforgiving fist around my vocal chords. I had to get out of there.

He nodded as he touched his hand to his bloodied lip, cursing as he pulled it away.

I turned and ran. He didn’t call after me, didn’t follow me, and I didn’t look back. I ran all the way to my apartment, locked all the doors and windows, and tossed through a sleepless night.

***

Tick-tock. Tick-tock. The clock marched time through my ears on Friday as the work day neared its end. Usually up to my neck in paperwork, today had been graciously light, and I was ready to go home and get ready for girls night. I thought I might wear my black pants and a tank; not too conservative and not too slutty. Never too slutty.

“You want a ride tonight, Ember, or you gonna meet us there?” Monica, my best friend and co-worker, startled me away from my gaze out of the window.

“Geez Mon! You scared the hell out of me!” I huffed, realizing I startled her, too, and continued. “Sorry, yea I’ll meet you there-nine o’clock, right?”