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I subtly pulled back from him. “Excuse me?”
“My contact came out. Can’t see the numbers. Looking for”—he lifted his hand and splayed his fingers—“five-twelve Shady Ave. Should be ’ere somewhere.”
The pedestrian signal turned green. I could hurry off and get myself home, but that wouldn’t be particularly Caring Citizen of me, would it? This was just a guy that needed a hand. If I’d lost my glasses, even sober, I’d be half blind.
“I’m keeping my glasses right where they are,” I told him, gesturing him to walk across the street. “But I can walk you home.”
“Shovel-wrist,” he mumbled.
Was that chivalrous? Hard to tell with the slurring. I let myself believe it was a compliment and nodded. “You’re welcome.”
With an uninhibited sigh, he hung on my arm and we crossed the street.
“I’m Mitch, by the way,” he murmured, tightening his grip and sagging his weight against my side. “I donna usually drink. Donna think I should again, either.”
“I suspect you’ll be thinking that all day tomorrow as well,” I said.
He stumbled so I slowed my pace. Along with alcohol, he smelled like something sweet—like he shampooed with cotton candy. When the brass numbers 512 shone under the lantern light, I steered Mitch up the stairs and to his door.
He dug a hand into his pocket and pulled out his keys, dangling them in my face. “Got ’em.”
“So you do.”
He chuckled as he fumbled for the right key and opened the door.
“You good from here?” I asked. Surely he’d at least find his apartment inside?
He nodded, and in an awkward—rather flexible—move, he kept the door open with his foot and threw his arms around my neck.
Vodka-laced lips met my cheek, followed by a low chuckle, whispering over my skin as he pulled back. “Night!”
The door shut, and I blinked under the lantern light. Well. Interesting night.
I turned and jogged down the steps.
For a second, I thought I heard my name whispered in the breeze, but the scuttling of leaves over the pavement reassured me I was imagining things.
Liiiiam. I walked faster. My imagination was getting the better of me—
A fractured shadow of Freddy’s sharp-fingered hand stretched long and menacing under the streetlight.
I picked up my pace to a trot. I didn’t like to think of myself as a scaredy-cat, but that didn’t stop it from being the case.
The clanking of steps got closer, and the shadow grew, splitting more under the light. Breath hit the back of my neck. I jumped, looking over my shoulder.
Freddy’s scarred face loomed toward me, and I skedaddled to one side. “Am I a magnet to the intoxicated tonight?”
I steered away from him and his awful mask. Time to get home—
Glittering steel shot out and sliced down the side of my arm, tearing my sleeve.
Pow!
Pain bloomed in my gut. “What the—?” A punch hit my jaw, and I stumbled back. My heel hit something and I fell, slamming the back of my head against the concrete.
Two or three blurry Freddies spiraled above me. A sharp metallic taste filled my mouth and slipped down the back of my throat. Who the hell was this guy? Was he trying to rob me?
“Leave me alone.” My wispy, weak voice didn’t match the intensity of my request. “Take my wallet.” I twisted and spat out blood.
Another jolt of pain ripped up my side, and I curled into it.
Stand up. Get away—
I struggled to push myself up, but no sooner had I heaved myself onto all fours than Freddy kicked my side, and my arms buckled.
The streetlight darkened, shadowed by his figure crouching next to me. Freddy twisted his steel, gloved fingers, taunting me with the light dancing on their sharp tips. “Let’s see how you like this up—”
Wham!
Freddy choked on his words and fell. I scrambled away, wincing at the throbbing, dizzying pain in my head. There were only shades of blue and soft ground under me as I crawled. I made it a few feet before I collapsed.
Blurry, the silhouette of a hooded figure loomed. He hauled Freddy up by his shoulders and kneed him until he crumpled to his boots—
My head throbbed again. Who was that? I strained to make out more, but all the blues around me bled into one, and I lost consciousness.
Chapter 2
Two voices swam around me. Male and female. There was a gentle rumbling. I groaned, clutching my head as I peeled my eyes open. I was in the back of a car.
I jerked upright.
Bad move. My head pounded.
Dark hair streaked with blue blurred in front of me, and the female spoke, “We’re taking you to UPMC, just hang in there.”
I rubbed my eyes under my—still intact glasses, thank God!—and let my vision clear.
The voice belonged to the girl from the party, the one who’d come in with My Angle behind her. “I’m . . . fine. Just a bit disoriented.” And confused. What happened? That Freddy guy attacked out of nowhere; if it hadn’t been for that hooded guy showing up . . .
