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I stare at my reflection, confused, hurting. The pain darkens my eyes and my chest tightens until I can barely breathe.
“Fuck this shit!” I growl angrily, grabbing my tote bag and stuffing my wallet inside of it. I step outside of my room and head out to find a cup of coffee somewhere. It’s not hard on the island. These people love coffee almost as much as I do.
After I grab a massive cup of coffee that’s been sweetened to within an inch of its life, I saunter down the street, enjoying the bright sunlight and the vibrancy of the people and the surroundings. Tropical flowers decorate doorways and windows all around me and it’s hard to believe that this place is actually real.
People smile at me and wave, their expressions so open and honest that it feels like a whole different world from where I come from.
Until I’m abruptly jerked back to the reality that the world is an angry, horrible place.
Something jerks at my arm and screams erupt around me. I lose my balance and desperately drop my cup of coffee to catch myself as I hit the pavement, my hands and knees taking the brunt. I suck in a jerky breath and gasp, my head reeling and pain hitting my bones. I lift my shaking hands and my curls escape from their rigid trap, cascading into my eyes. I huff them out of my eyes and cringe at the cuts on my hands, dirt embedded into them.
Screaming brings me back to myself and I jerk my head up, watching a man run away, my large tote swinging from his arm.
A woman reaches down and groans, “your poor hands. Here let me help you up.”
In a fog, I let her help me up.
She dusts at my dress around the knees and groans. “Oh, your pretty dress is ruined.”
I glance down, my head swimming and my eyes watering with pain. “I’m alright,” I whisper, my throat clogged with tears.
She hustles me over to a chair in front of her little shop with beautiful crystal and seashell jewelry in the window. “Come on. You need to sit down. I think you’re in shock.”
She turns to a woman in the next shop over. “Did you call the police, Malia?”
The older, graying lady nods her head. “Yes, I did. Young ones shouldn’t do stuff like that,” she sniffs. “I blame parents. A lot of them don’t pay attention to what their kids are doing. They don’t want to be bothered.”
I hear the two women in the background arguing over parenting styles and tune them out. I can’t breathe, my chest heavy.
I stare down at my hands twisting in the dirty lap of my dress, pushing any thoughts of the contents of my purse, including my wallet out of my head. I don’t think I can take much more bad.
“Hey, I know you,” the soft, husky voice follows a pair of shoes at my feet and I follow them up to the face that keeps slipping into my head at odd moments. He smiles and just like that, it feels like everything is going to be fine.
CHAPTER 6
Leon
“Hey, I know you.” Her corkscrew blond curls topping her head look soft and wild and my fingers itch to slip in and tangle in the silken depths, tugging her to me.
I jerk those thoughts up as she lifts her head, her soft gray eyes unfocused and wet with tears.
I kneel at her feet and reach out to touch her hand, wrapping my fingers around hers. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong, Sarah?”
Her lips twist. “He took all my things. I had my wallet in my purse.”
“Don’t worry. We’re gonna find your wallet and for right now, we’re gonna get you all fixed up and get those cards shut down so they can’t use them.”
I pat her hands and she just stares at me. “Why are you here?”
I smile. “I’m a detective. I just happened to be passing by and saw all the excitement. I’ve already got people out looking for him because I saw him. I’ve been talking to the other people a little further up the road to see if they saw him but I’m afraid for now I’ve lost track of him. But we’re gonna get your things, don’t worry.”
“Why are you so nice to me?”
My chest aches at the lost look in her eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I’m a stranger to you. You don’t know me at all.”
“My job means I make split decisions, Sarah. I know you’re a good person. And even if you weren’t, it’s my job to help you.”
