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Sammy called out, “Hello? Help! Please, I’m stuck. Hello?”
He could hear how frantic his voice had gone. Suddenly he was scared about who exactly the dog would bring. He was in the middle of the woods, alone with a very expensive car. If he got clubbed in the head and left in the ditch by some redneck Neanderthal, they may not find his remains until spring. Or ever.Nice. Morbid much?!
Sammy became quiet trying to think about the last time he had to defend himself. It had been just a few months prior, on his way home from a night at a prominent gay bar. He had been just enough buzzed not to notice someone had followed him to his place. They tried to force their way in the building right after he had punched in his code at the entrance.
Although he had some pretty unfortunate experiences in the past, this time he had been able to fight back. He hadn’t gotten away scot-free. He had earned himself a hot black-and-blue eye, and a broken nose to match.
The guy had gone cocky after knocking him down and didn’t think Sammy had it in him to roll over and push him down the stairs. Not only that, but he had followed him down and had given him a taste of his own anger, punching him square in the nose, while his attacker lay dazed on the sidewalk. He wasn’t much for violence, even when it was damn warranted. Once he was winded and he was sure the other guy wasn’t going to try anything again, he got his phone out quickly, took a nice clear photo of his assailant’s face and got inside his building, calling the police immediately after.
By the time the cops showed up, the guy had come to and had made a narrow escape. Sammy had given them his full account of events and supplied the photo. The officers had no problem telling him, drunken brawls were not their priority, especially on a Friday night when no one had been robbed or stabbed. They weren’t discreet with their yawns and eye rolls, while Sammy was giving them a detailed account of his evening. Once the “kind” police officers were gone, he went to bed quite confident that he would never hear from them again. And he didn’t.
Was the man approaching him now dangerous? Was he going to hurt Sammy? His heart was slamming in his chest. He tried to prepare himself mentally for the worst case-scenario.
Morpheus heel!” The voice was trembling but still loud enough. “Stop, you big lump. You’re going to get hurt! I said –”
The owner of the large animal halted at the edge of the ditch and froze there with the giant dog Sammy now guessed was named Morpheus. They stared at each other, frozen in panic for a moment, until Sammy shivered, and the man scrambled forward, holding on to the still gaping car door, reaching over with his gloved hand. “Take my hand. Come on!” There was a frantic urgency in his voice.
Sammy hesitated for only a moment, then he carefully squelched through the mud and reached for the man who tugged him upward. He was able to climb clumsily over the edge of the ditch. They were both panting by the time he was safely on his knees on the road.
“Thank you. I –”
“How the hell did you even do that?” The stranger waved his hands at the SUV. “Were you not even looking at the road? You could have gotten yourself killed!” The man huffed seemingly aggravated and kept shaking his head in disbelief.
Sammy glared at him. “Okay, dude. I get it – I’m a terrible driver.” The guy just shook his head, took his gloves off and rubbed his eyes. With a much calmer voice he said, “I’m sorry. Are you, okay?” He leaned forward to offer Sammy his hand, but Sammy lightly shoved it away and stood up on his own. The back of his head throbbed, and his knees felt weak, but he held his ground determined not to give this guy the satisfaction of showing that he was indeed injured, even if he suspected it wasn’t all too serious. And yes – he knew it was his own damn fault for hurting himself in the first place.
“I’m fine. Thanks for helping me,” he said dryly. He wiped the mud off his hands in his now ruined jacket.
He took the stranger in. He was older than him, but not by much. His face looked tired. Maybe the dog had woken him up. Sammy didn’t want to stare too long in case this dude got weird about it, so he just looked away toward the car. But fucking hell, was this guy hot in the most impossible rugged way – tired eyes, a little wild, adorably messy dark hair, a week worth of dark stubble – and the way his warm breath left his parted almost blood-red lips in small clouds of steam, did things to his mind.
Fuck. Look away. Stop staring, or you’re definitely getting clubbed in the head.
“I got distracted and didn’t see the ditch. I should have been more careful, but I guess I was feeling disoriented and tired. I lost reception a while back, and I was just winging it, hoping to somehow end up back on the main road again.”
The stranger huffed again, but Sammy could see he was deflating after his honest admission. He made his way around the back of the car and crawled in to get his phone and his large pink bag. He cringed at the sight of mud all over the leather seats but there was nothing he could do about it now. The light cream leather would have to be professionally cleaned, and he squirmed at the thought of how much that would cost him.
He held out his bright pink fuzzy extra-large over-the-shoulder handbag out to the man.
The stranger gave it a confused look, then his eyebrows shot up and he peered in the car. “Is your girlfriend, okay?”
Sammy was confused as hell for exactly five seconds, then he huffed an amused laugh and smirked. “This ismybag. Idon’thave a girlfriend.” He raised an eyebrow and gave him a pointed look then began counting in his head.One… two…three…four…
“Oh…Oh…I…” The man was fumbling with the fuzzy strap of Sammy’s bag and Sammy felt bad, because he was clearly embarrassed.
“It’s okay man, it’s not like it’s written on my forehead.” James would argue that it was indeed written on his forehead, but he reminded himself, he was covered in mud and his favorite pink Nike high-tops were now ruined. Whatever makeup he had been wearing, had long been wiped clean back when he had stopped for a piss at a gas station on the side of the road, and decided his trip would be a bit safer without it.
He sighed and opened the back of the car, unloading his camera equipment and strapping his duffle bag to his back. He closed the hatch and locked the doors with the electronic key then reached for his bag and the man handed it over, looking even more sheepish and deflated.
When his grumpy savior didn’t offer him any further assistance, Sammy started slowly dragging away his big camera storage case and walking back in the direction he had come from. He had not encountered any other cars on his way there, and it was safe to assume he would wait forever for someone to drive by and help him.
Something tugged at his duffel, startling him. Morpheus. He stopped and gave him a pat. “Oh I’m sorry, buddy. Thank you for the brave rescue. You truly are my hero.” Morpheus nuzzled his palm, but then turned and went halfway between him and the stranger and barked, wagging his tail, then ran back to Sammy, wiggling his butt and jumping lightly, pressing his paws to his chest, sniffing and licking him excitedly.
Sammy rolled his eyes, laughing – this dog sure was something. “Aren’t you a sly manipulator?” He gave the large teddy bear looking animal another pat when he dropped to his feet, nuzzling his hands, nosing around his pockets. “This ain’tThe Parent Trap,buddy.” Sammy called him out. He chanced a look to the other man and let out a sigh of relief when the stranger snorted a strangled laugh and rubbed his face, clearly familiar with the hilarious antics of his furry companion.
Sammy sighed and smiled. “It’s okay, man. You don’t owe me shit. Thank you for helping me out of the ditch.” He chuckled. Then he tightened his jaw, because he didn’t want the other man to see how cold he really was and that his teeth were about to start chattering. A fresh shot of pain from the back of his head almost brought tears to his eyes. Fuck, he should ask for help, but he just couldn’t bring himself to. He suddenly felt, a little bit raw and plenty vulnerable – what if the man laughed him off and told him to get lost. Sammy might as well fuck off on his own.
Fleecing James ruthlessly was one thing but getting strangers to pity him was not his thing. He gave the man a curt nod and turned to go. Morpheus barked after him, then he could hear the man jogging lightly in his direction.
“Wait.” He stood there, just a few feet away, looking like he was in perfect conflict with himself.
