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Her fingers tangled in his soft, brown hair. The scattered shards of light made it look like melted chocolate flowing over her skin.
Would it shine in the sun or maybe have highlights? Some lighter brown mixed with red, even a few blond streaks woven throughout?
The silky softness of his tresses turned to something wet and sticky.
Blood!
Kyndel gulped. Panic seized the breath in her lungs as the true severity of the situation smacked her in the face. She fought to keep her calm. Now, there was absolutely no denying he needed medical attention. Reaching into her bag and cursing herself for not thinking of it sooner, she dug around for her cellphone.
Coming up empty-handed, she instantly remembered plugging it into her car charger the night before, not giving it the slightest thought until that moment. Cursing and threatening death to anyone in the immediate vicinity, she sat back on her heels and thought.
All I know to do is run down the street for help.
Looking at the fallen man, then in the direction of the Mini Mart, she reasoned he’d probably be okay. She’d be gone five minutes…tops. Run in, use the phone, run back. It all seemed very logical, but fear something would happen to him in her absence kept her in place.
This guy was important to her. That alone had all her red flags flying and bells and whistles screaming in her brain. She tried to push her feelings aside and look at the situation with logic, but that was like holding back a freight train with her pinky finger…not gonna happen. Besides, her granny would most definitely haunt her and probably kick her butt if she turned her back on someone who needed help.
“No one’s gonna mess with this behemoth, even if heisunconscious,” she reassured herself. “He probably doesn’t have a wallet to steal anyway.”
Should she dig in his pockets to try to find one? Some kind of ID?
Nah.
She wasn’t keen on trying to explain her hand in his pants if he woke up. Her cheeks warmed at the thought of touching him again.
“What are you doing out at night in just a pair of jeans and bare feet, anyway?” she asked the unconscious man. “Guess it doesn’t matter. You need help, whether you’re dressed properly or not.”
Hooking her satchel over her shoulder, Kyndel stood and took one last look at her ‘patient’. Before she had barely moved an inch, a huge, warm hand latched onto her bare ankle.
“What the hell?” she screamed, trying to pull her leg free while looking down to see what new fresh hell had befallen her.
