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1
Harley
I leaned back and stretched. After a long day of looking over numbers for my data entry job, I was tired and ready for a break. And it would do me well to leave my apartment.
I worked from home, which allowed me the luxury of spending all day in pajamas. But I wanted to look at least a little put together for going to the grocery store.
I quickly changed into jeans and a sweatshirt. I checked in the mirror to make sure all of my scars were covered. My past wasn’t pretty, but I could usually hide most of it from the public eye with a sweatshirt. But there were a couple of cigar burns on the nape of my neck that somehow managed to peek through.
Luckily, this sweatshirt seemed to cover them. Thank god. I hated wearing my hair down.
After I was ready, I walked to the grocery store down the street. As I entered the building, a man passed me to exit and I had to remind myself to breathe as anxiety flared up inside me. Calm down, Harley, not everyone is out to attack you.
I took a deep breath and continued into the store to do my shopping.
I actually used to be a lot worse. Two years ago, I couldn’t even leave my apartment. Even walking downstairs to my mailbox was next to impossible for me. After a lot of work with a therapist, I was able to lead a semi-functioning life.
I grabbed a basket and started gathering items I needed: eggs, milk, and vegetables. In the cereal aisle, I reached to grab a box from the top shelf and had to stand on my tiptoes to get it. I groaned as the tips of my fingers accidentally brushed the box back. Why did I have to be so short.
“Let me get that for you,” said a deep voice, right behind me.
Fear seized in my stomach. I spun around and caught a glimpse of a leather jacket and terror completely took over. I screamed slightly as I shrank away from the stranger, dropping my basket in the process. As I stepped back, I lost my balance and started to fall but strong hands grabbed me.
I struggled. “Let go of me!” I shouted. “Let go!”
The hands immediately fell away. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just didn’t want to see you fall.”
I looked up at him. The man was looking at me with concern. I swallowed and crossed my arms over my chest. My heart was still breathing rapidly but I could focus a little more. He wasn’t Reaper, my ex-boyfriend. Sure, he was just as tall, and broad-shouldered and he was wearing a leather jacket. But the insignia on the jacket didn’t belong to the Demon biker gang.
“Hey!” I looked to see the store manager looking at us both with his arms crossed. “Is there a problem here?”
The man in front of me took a step back. “No problem,” he said.
The manager looked to me. “Is this guy bothering you?”
I swallowed, wondering what I should say. Technically the man in front of me hadn’t done anything wrong. But what if I sent the store manager away only for the guy to attack me? No. Not everyone who wears a leather jacket is a bad guy. It was difficult to remember that even though I knew it was true. “I’m fine,” I said. I forced myself to smile. “I was just startled.”
The manager nodded and went away.
I swallowed and looked at the man in front of me, wondering what he was going to do next.
“I’m sorry I scared you,” he said. “Are you all right?”
I nodded shakily.
He took a step forward and I flinched. He stopped, a muscle working in his jaw. “Let me get the cereal for you,” he said. “And then I’ll get out of your hair.”
“Thank you.” I stayed as far away from him as I could while he got the cereal for me. He handed me the box and then picked up my basket. He grimaced as egg whites dripped out onto his combat boots. “Shit,” I muttered as I took the basket. “I’m so sorry. The eggs must have cracked when I dropped it.”
“It’s okay,” he said. He gave me a soft smile. “Let me take care of the mess. It’s the least I can do after scaring you like that.” He picked up his own grocery basket, which he had set on the ground behind us, probably when he tried to help me the first time with the cereal. It was mostly empty, except for a couple of frozen meals. He took the meals out and handed me the empty basket. “Here. Use this basket. I’ll deal with the eggs and the mess.”
“No,” I said. “I can’t take your basket like this. It’s my fault I got scared like that.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what happened, but I do know it wasn’t your fault.”
I felt my cheeks burn a little. How could he possibly know what happened to me?
The man nodded at the basket he was still holding out to me. Carefully, I took it from him, careful to make sure my hand didn’t touch his. He gave me a small smile of approval as he took my own messy basket, still dripping with eggs. “Take care of yourself,” he said as he walked away.
I forced myself to breathe as he left. It was okay. I never had to see him again. This would be an embarrassing memory but it could have been so much worse.
