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The man considers my words. His steely blue eyes cut up my defences, but I fight back with a fiery look of my own. I just need to outlast him—I can almost believe he doesn’t want to hurt me. But then, what is he doing here, if not squashing out a witness?
“I lied,” he says suddenly, with no context.
My gut lurches and my heart cramps. About what!? I want to ask, but my throat has gone dry. That little sliver of fear in me has immediately exploded. The domineering man takes another step towards me. The world gets darker.
“You are in danger... possibly, but not from me,” he says, looming over me.
My subtly trembling limbs start to tremble just a little bit more. “... Then from who?” I ask, as meekly as a child sitting around a campfire, listening to a scary story.
The man tugs at the sleeve of his black leather jacket. I watch as he pulls his left arm out, exposing a hefty bandage that’s stained with a red mark from where blood has seeped through. I’m immediately beset by a nurse’s instinct. I have to consciously fight back my desire to reach out and sooth him, to touch him. As I fight that battle within, I lose another.
My teeth close in around my lip. Around the stranger’s bandage is tight skin and hard muscle. A network of powerful veins run up his broad forearm. His shoulder curves out like a marbled boulder from underneath his tight black undershirt. The trembling in my legs shifts gears. By the time I realize what’s happening, it’s too late.
Fuck me... I want this guy to fuck me.
“I’m looking for the man who did this to me,” he growls, more animal than man. The sneer on his blood red lips only drives me crazier. I’m almost disappointed that he’s not actually here for me.
“Why did he shoot you?” I ask, trying to find a bridge of sympathy with this dark, brooding figure.
“Because I was going to shoot him.”
That bridge instantly collapses. This isn’t a sympathetic character I’m talking to. He’s a criminal. A steaming hot criminal. Unless...
“Are you a cop? Undercover?” I cross my finger
s. A lot of good that’s done me lately.
The man spits on the floor and then wipes away his mark with the sole of his boot.
“Not a cop, then,” I roll my eyes. Just my luck. This guy’s all dark; there might not be a shred of light in him.
“I’d rather be dead,” he growls.
“Looks like you almost got your wish last night,” I tease, gesturing to his stained bandage.
He grimaces, like he just remembered his injury.
Something flutters in my stomach. There goes my nurse’s instinct again, I sigh. If only I could have capitalized on this instinct, say, in the form of a job where I nurse people back to health, instead of in the form of making me want to get closer to a stranger that’s liable to bite my head off.
I kick myself before I even have the chance to say it, but my heel isn’t powerful enough to stop the words from pouring out of my mouth. “Can I take a look?”
The stranger furrows his brow. He looks around the dark, doorway-lit hallway and then back at me. “You don’t own this place?” he asks, again.
I shake my head.
“So, you’re a waitress?”
I nod.
“How’s a waitress going to help with my arm?”
For some reason, I can hardly believe he took the opportunity to take a jab at me, but when I process it, a ball of anger explodes inside of me. I cross my arms and take a mean step backward. “Well, fuck you then. Suffer, asshole.”
I can tell my reaction has caught him off guard. He might not have meant to sound as harsh as he did. It’s too late, though, any instinct I had to soothe him has been burned alive in a nuclear blast.
“There’s no one here but me,” I tell him, strongly. “Whoever you’re looking for is somewhere else. So, can you leave me be now?”
I don’t let my gaze falter. I swear I catch a hint of that familiar softness in his eyes, before they glaze over again.
