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“What the fuck did you just do?” She sneered down at the man, kicking his upper ribs with the sharp point of her high heeled shoe. His body jolted, but only from the force of the hit. “He’s dead.” Her mouth formed into a perfect pout, and I wanted to kiss it. Take it away.
Then what she said registered. Dead?
Forcing my attention away from her, I glanced down at the man. His face was hardly recognizable. There was so much blood, but...it looked slightly concave.
Had I done that? Lifting my hands to catch as much murky light from the street as I could, I winced at the blood speckled forearms and heavier coating on my knuckles and fingers.
I should probably get a blood screening done. If I’d opened any scrapes on my hands, I didn’t want to catch anything from that filth.
That could come later, my first priority was this beauty. She could be scared, shaken up. Maybe even hurt.
“We should call the police, have an ambulance look at you.” Swiping my hands down my pants to remove as much blood as I could, I stepped closer, stretching a hand out to move her hair from her neck. I hoped this filthy animal hadn’t bruised her.
“No cops. I’m fine.” Her words were clipped, but the throaty tone made my cock twitch. That wasn’t the voice of an angel, more like an avenging temptress here to sing me to my death.
I loved it.
“Why are you grinning?” She barked at me.
I started to cover my mouth with my hand, but dropped it when the drying blood caught my eye. The stain was too fresh and I hadn’t gotten it all off. She was my responsibility now, and I didn’t want to scare her. Or traumatize her anymore.
“Sorry. Let me see your neck, I want to make sure you’re okay,” I said, injecting as muchtrust mevibes as I could. That was actually pretty good. All I had to do was mimic every therapist I’d seen throughout my life.
When my fingers were scant inches from touching the lovely column of her throat, she slapped my hand down. “Back the fuck up. You know what? I didn’t do this. I’m golden. Have fun when the cops get here.” Spinning on her heels, she waved over her shoulder as she hustled toward the street, the quick tap, tap, of her heels echoing down the alley.
“Wait!” I yelled after her. Shit, my duffle. It had skidded off to the side, thankfully out of the blood spatter trajectory. Once I had grabbed it, I ran after her.
Never stopping, she cast a slightly threatening look over her shoulder. “What now?”
“I need to make sure you get home safe.” I scanned the street, making sure there were no other predators lurking in the shadows.
Shock registered in her expression. Granted, I'd been raised in a household with a very strict adherence to the rules. Things like opening doors for other people—not just ladies, but definitely for ladies; escorting those younger or weaker than you to their door; making sure the people around you were safe; were all things I was raised to always do.
Nothing would make me happier than keeping this beauty safe. I double-checked my hands. No blood. There was some on my shirt, but I could probably pull a jacket over that. The sun had rapidly begun its descent, so that would be helpful, right?
Although with the sun going down, so was the temperature. Something her shiver reminded me of as she gave herself a little shake then stared at my outstretched hand. "Are you for real?"
The question bounced off me. Honestly, who could fault her? There were people at the sanatorium who talked to and about hallucinations. I'd overheard a number of fascinating one-sided conversations. Almost made me wish I could hear the other side of it.
Since she stopped, I narrowed the distance, then pinched her. I tried to keep it gentle but a sting was better. She slapped at my hand again and stared at me. The acrobatic maneuvers playing out in her expression had me leaning closer. Despite the sunset, the lights in the alley all seemed conspicuously out, so the shadows just threatened to swallow her.
"Did you just pinch me?" Disbelief etched into every single syllable.
"You wanted to know if I was for real." I flashed her a reassuring smile or what I hoped was one. "You can pinch me, if you want to help me do a reality check."
Her jaw snapped closed with an audible click of her teeth. I felt, more than saw, her look past me. Oh, I stepped into her line of sight. She didn't need to see the body.
"I just want to make sure you get home safe," I promised her again. "I'm not a creeper or some kind of deviant."
Yes, I had absolutely pummeled a man to death but he'd been hurting her. He shouldn't have done that. Maybe the fact I'd killed him should register more, but honestly, all I felt was grateful she was okay.
"I'm Merrick, by the way," I added when she continued to study me. If she was concerned about stranger danger, then introductions should help eliminate that, right?
"Nice to meet you, Merrick." Instead of disdain or caution, amusement filtered her tone. "While I appreciate the effort, I can get home on my own." She started to take a step away then paused before I could even reach out to stop her. "And you really should get out of here—especially covered in blood like you are. It's a red flag to law enforcement."
I glanced down at myself.
"I have a change of clothes in my bag. Just give me one sec." I set the bag down on a broken wooden pallet and stripped off the shirt. With care, I wiped my face and then my arms. I couldn't really see them, but there was some hand sanitizer in the bag—I'd borrowed it from my room since they had bottles everywhere. I rubbed down with that, nose wrinkling at the smell in combination with the coppery scent of my clothes.
