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“Please, sir… I didn’t mean anything by it. Didn’t touch her. Look, I ain’t even taken nothing.” He held out his hands, palms open to show there was nothing there, like a traveling magician performing a trick.

I tried to make my voice as calming as possible as I spoke. “Please let him go. I don’t think he’ll cause any more problems.”

“He hurt you and you want me to let him leave with his life?” He drew his thick brows together, his face twisting in anger.

“Yes. Please. For me. Let them both go.” I didn’t care so much about whether the thieves lived or died, what I did care about was that I wanted them to leave so I could be alone with the beast of a man, as dangerous as that may be. Killing them and the mess it sounded as though it would make, surely would put more of a damper on the morning.

“Both…” The giant turned his massive head, looking at Carmichel like he’d forgotten the man was there. For his part, Carmichel stared up, frozen like a rabbit caught in the gaze of a predator, not wanting to anger the beast.

There was a low growl, and the giant dropped the man from my room. He fell with a heavy thud, sobbing onto the wooden floor.

“Get out.” He gnashed his teeth, jerking his head toward the door. “I ever see you here again I’ll make you dig your own graves.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Come on, Carmichel, get up, you damned fool!”

Despite everything, I had to stifle a giggle as the two of them backed out of the house, the paltry things they’d pilfered discarded by the door to my father’s bedroom. The giant drew in a deep breath that seemed to suck all the air from the room, leaving me more breathless, his chest expanding under a shirt that struggled to contain it.

Then he offered me his hand, and I knew that the nightmare was over.

I reached up to take it, my palm and fingers looking doll-like in his.

“Can you stand?” he asked, looking down at my ankle, frowning which deepening the ragged scars on his forehead and cheeks.

Gulping down the pain, I nodded and began to pull myself to my feet. But as soon as I tried to put weight on my left leg, it gave way beneath me. I braced myself for another fall, but he whisked me safely into his thick arms, scooping me up like I was weightless and carrying me into the front room, by the fireplace where the embers from the night before glowed.

“Who are you?” I asked as he raised my leg up onto a stool.

He turned, staring at me, his eerie gray-green eyes narrowing. “They call me Randal,” he said. “Now let me look at this ankle.”

“I’m fine. But, how is it you were here?” I paused as he kept his eyes downcast. “I appreciate your help, it’s not that, I just…not many come this way.”

Ignoring my words, he knelt on the floor at my feet. I tensed, knowing fingers of the size he had would surely be rough and without finesse. How wrong I was. He was delicate and precise as he held my ankle and began removing my bed socks.

His fingers brushed my skin as his mysterious, masculine scent filled my nose and his close proximity combined with my body’s uncontrollable reaction to him sent me into a panic.

“You’ve done enough already,” I blurted out, gingerly beginning to pull my foot away. “I don’t want to take up any more of your time.”

“You’re not. Does this hurt?” He manipulated my ankle, holding me firm, watching it as he did, and I winced.

“Do you have any medical knowledge?” I asked, trying to find some reason for him to take his hands away before I embarrassed myself. A flutter down deep told me he was not the beast of childhood stories and yet, his presence dusted my skin with fear and at the same time, set my heart to skipping in my chest like a schoolgirl gaping at a handsome prince.

Randal drew back one side of his mouth in a grimace and clicked his tongue against his teeth. “No. I know nothing of bones besides what they sound like when they break. Did you hear something that sounded like…” He made a crunching, cracking sound, then added, “Or, something like…” He added a hard snapping sound that at once made me want to withdraw, but instead a chirping giggle leapt from my tight throat. “You think I’m funny?” He gave me an odd stare.

“Those noises were funny. And probably accurate. I’m not laughing at you,” I clarified, pressing my hands against my lips as if in prayer while I gathered my decorum. “But, no I do not believe my ankle made any of those noises.”

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