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“Come on now. It’s getting late. I’m sure you don’t want to spend another night with us old biddies.” She grinned, referring to the trio of elderly nurses who often shared her shifts.
I frowned. I loved it here, but I’d already stayed three weeks past the completion of the program. No one understood me the way these people did. No, I was starting down a slippery slope thinking like that.
Taking a deep breath, I hoisted the backpack over my shoulder and shoved my phone in my pocket. “It was great, and I appreciate everything you all have done for me. And you’re right. I won’t be back.”
I had excelled in therapy and found the perfect coping mechanisms that worked for me when I was stressed. Armed with a whole new arsenal of tools, I was ready to go back into the world.
She called a final goodbye as I headed to the elevator.
Damn, this felt good. I’d pick up some dinner on the way home and celebrate my release with a big fat, juicy steak.
The doors opened to the elevator, and I stepped in, moderately happy to have it all to myself. It was almost nine, so not many people would be coming and going from Lancaster, except for staff, or the random releasee like me.
Soft, cheesy music played from the speakers as I started the descent to the first floor. A huge, cartoonish sign hung on the back wall with the text ‘See something? Say something!’ printed across the middle in bold block letters. The whole thing screamed elementary school, making me chuckle at the nostalgia it fanned inside me. I loved all the signs lining the halls and bathrooms, reminding us to be good people and make good decisions. Actually, I probably should have paid more attention to them, and I wouldn’t have needed therapy.
Cool, humid air kissed my skin as I stepped out onto the street. Not many people were out, and this part of town was always lacking in lights. Whistling an old tune, I stayed close to the buildings, stepping over the occasional homeless person or pile of trash.
Lancaster really should put more effort into cleaning up their neighborhood.
Approaching the one open bar on the street, I let my gaze wander down the alley right before I hit the front, and my steps faltered. That didn’t look right at all.
Was I seeing things? I hoped so, because it looked like a man had a woman pinned to the wall. It could have been the shadows, giving them a sinister vibe. Maybe it was a lover’s quarrel. There wasn’t any screaming that I could hear.
But they were pretty far down the alley…
I forced myself to keep walking, unprepared for how heavy each step would be as I lost sight of the couple. My instincts were shit, part of why I checked myself into Lancaster in the first place, so I was probably imagining the wrongness of the scene.
See Something? Say Something.
Had that been a coincidence seeing that sign? Or a cosmic clue?
Fuck. It wouldn’t hurt just to check the couple out, make sure the woman was fine.
Retreating a handful of steps, I glanced down the alley again. I probably didn't make the most inconspicuous of figures, sliding up to the edge of the alley and gazing around the corner like some great ninny with his duffel bag over one shoulder. Don't call me a peeping Merrick or anything, but see something, say something was a great idea. Still, I kind of didn't want to cock block strangers if I'd misread the situation.
However, the guy had the woman pinned with the wall, a hand around her throat and he seemed to tower over her. Granted, they were silhouettes amidst the shadows. Even cars in the distance seemed louder than any sound coming from the alley. Indecision bound me in place.
They were right outside a bar. They could be going for an alley quickie. She could be a prostitute and this was how she planned to pay her rent. Interrupting would be rude, particularly when I didn't have any cash on me to make it up to her if I scared off the john.
Dammit. Now I felt like a peeping Tom. Still, I lingered and when the man in the alley started lifting her up by the throat, I forgot all about my objections. The last time I checked, that wasn't a safe kinky sex practice. He would kill her or at least do her serious bodily harm.
My body moved before my brain fully processed what I would do when I got there. The guy towered over her, but I wasn't a small man. Still, I never thought of myself as a fighter. Right up until she hit him and he backhanded her. Though he let go of her throat—a good thing—she bounced off the side of the building and the rest of me saw red.
I slammed into him, fists flying. It was like every other part of my brain turned off, except for the part that said get him the hell away from her. My knuckles split with every blow I landed. The man staggered under my weight. While he seemed like a behemoth from afar, the collision of my fists with his face almost seemed to bring him down to normal proportions.
A distant part of my brain just observed the action. I was not a violent person. Not self-described or even diagnosed by anyone else. My time in the sanitarium had been more about my overwhelming need to please, and inappropriate attachments to people after a painfully short acquaintance. This? This wasn't like me.
And yet, I didn't stop. Each time I considered pulling back, the image of her being hoisted above him by one arm flashed across my mind's eye. He'dhurther and if it was a kink thing, then she wouldn't have been fighting to get free, right?
Something wet splashed against my face and the hot spray of it jolted me out of the madness. My breath exploded out of me in harsh pants and I glanced from the bloody mess of the man below me to the woman who stared at me with a stunned expression.
The shadows softened her features, caressing them like a lover, and I swore she seemed more a part of them than our world. Holy fuck, she was beautiful.
And I saved her.
"It's okay," I reassured her. "I'll keep you safe."
Wow, the adrenaline pumping through my body was giving me such a high. I’d never been a hero before. It was like the universe bestowed this woman on me and I was her guardian angel. I almost started bouncing on the balls of my feet, but shit, that might scare her.
