by Susie Tate
She slapped his hands away and gave him another punch, this time in the centre of his stomach, which caught him off guard. He let out a an “oof” and had to take a step back.
“I thought you were a non-violent plant-muncher,” he wheezed.
“Well, just goes to show how strong us vegans can be. You might take the piss, but not everyone has to choke back a steak a day, roid themselves up and fanny about at the gym for hours to pack a decent punch.”
Heath’s face flooded with colour. “I do not fanny about at the gym. I train. And I certainly do not take steroids. Not everyone can afford to be a surf bum half the time and then bugger around doing weird contortionist-slash-soft-porn poses in a poorly disguised attempt at showing off to the other half.”
Yaz took a step back like she herself had been punched and her smile died. “Whatever,” she muttered as she spun on her heel and jogged away.
I sighed. “Jesus, mate. I know she can be annoying but what was that about?”
He shrugged and avoided my eyes. “There’s no reason she has to strip half naked in your office and add to every arsehole’s wank bank right in the middle of the day.”
“Okay, Dad.” I rolled my eyes. He kicked the sand.
“I bet the whole office would be more productive without her bullshit. That’s all I’m saying.” He jogged off towards the beach/pitch and I frowned after him. When had our office productivity become Heath’s concern? He managed to distract most of my staff on a regular basis with his charm offensive. Hypocritical bastard.
“Hey.”
I swung around and came face to face with a pair of brown eyes almost level with mine. The boy was growing like a weed. I smiled and brought a hand up to his shoulder but he moved away.
“You good?” I asked Teddy. “Didn’t think you’d make it down. I thought you had some chemistry revis–”
“Alright, Max,” he huffed, his face adopting that, unfortunately now-familiar, sullen expression – one that forcibly reminded me of his mother. “I’ll just fuck off then, shall I?” The Max cut through me like a knife. Where had my doting, sunny little boy who loved to call me dad gone? Who was this aggravating bugger who’d taken his place?
“Hey, language, you cheeky little shit.” I reached up to ruffle his hair but Teddy ducked his head down, avoiding my hand. I took that small rejection on the chin, but it still hurt. It always hurt.
“You can’t tell me to stop swearing by swearing yourself, you hypocritical son of a–”
“Short stuff! You came!” Like a small, blonde missile, Yaz launched herself at Teddy and hugged him tight. The sullen expression lightened slightly as he rolled his eyes and, after only a brief hesitation, wrapped his arms around her briefly before pushing her away.
“Auntie Yaz!” he protested.
That hurt as well – why could Teddy manage to still call my sister Auntie, but I was reduced to Max?
“You do know you’re about a foot shorter than me now, don’t you?” he said. “You might have to consider switching up the nicknames.”
“Hadn’t noticed,” she said, smiling up at him. I tried to shove my hands into my non-existent pockets again then crossed my arms over my chest. Yaz looked from my defensive posture to Teddy’s face, which had set back to sullen, and she sighed.
“Come on you two.” She wore a forced smile as she stepped in between Teddy and me, looped her arms through mine and then Teddy’s and started tugging us towards the sand.
And, just like that, my focus was back on my newly-turned-into-an-arsehole teenage dependant and off a certain dark-haired, secretive, emo girl.
Well, at least that’s what I told myself.
*****
Mia
I was so cold.
It was just my luck that last night, a night I had not been early enough to get a space in the shelter, was the coldest there’d been since I’d become homeless. A freak, cold snap in April – just my luck.
Homeless.
There was no denying it to myself now – that’s what I was. Twenty-eight years old and homeless. Yes, I was getting paid in just over a week’s time (I’d asked Verity when payday was. Twice.). But that didn’t change anything now. And last night had been the worst by far. I’d slept in the alley outside the office, with the rest of the rubbish. After hauling the large bins to shield me from the road I had been sweating, but within half an hour of being huddled in my sleeping bag the shivering had started.
Now it was seven in the morning and, thank God, I’d heard somebody open the door to the office. When I was sure the coast was clear I forced myself out of my sleeping bag, which I managed to wrestle into its sack before shoving it into my backpack. After that I could no longer feel my hands, so pulling across one of the bins to get out was a significant struggle. I thought back to the day of my escape and wished for the thousandth time that during my frantic packing I’d had the foresight to take some bloody gloves. But, then again, I’d only had one functioning arm and had been punch drunk from being knocked out cold – so maybe I didn’t do too badly.
I made it to the side door, only stumbling once on my numb feet, and pushed through. The warmth hit me as I moved into the entryway. I sighed in relief and nearly tripped in my haste to get to one of the radiators. They had the fancy upright kind so I could stand with my whole body against one and my hands behind my back, sucking up at much heat as possible. Even so, the shaking continued. I closed my eyes and visualised myself sinking into a deep bath full of steaming water, every part of me surrounded with warmth. Just as everything started getting a little fuzzy and I thought I might actually fall asleep there on my feet, the air around me changed. Tension crackled through the space, and suddenly I knew who had opened up the office. Why was my luck always so crap? Couldn’t I manage to catch a break? Just once?
“What are you doing here so early?” his deep voice sounded from an uncomfortably close distance. I opened my eyes and he was right there, only about two feet in front of me. Under normal circumstances I would have moved away – he was too close, and he was between me and the nearest exit. I’d long since learnt to never let a man cage me in or block off my available escape routes. But I doubted that even if the devil himself had materialised in front of me I would have been able to move away from that radiator. I felt like I was welded to its warmth for life.
“I-I-I n-n-needed to g-g-get a – ” I broke off and tried to get my shivering under control. The adrenaline of being so close to a big man giving off angry vibes probably wasn’t helping. “G-g-g-get a h-h-head s-s-s-start on …”
“Jesus Christ, you’re freezing!” he snapped, sounding even more angry than before.
“I-I-I-I …”
He stepped forward so that he was now inches away from me. I was looking straight at his broad chest and, to my alarm, his hands reached forward for mine. My chattering mouth slammed shut and my eyes went wide as I froze in fear. I tried to keep my hands rigidly behind me, but he pulled them round with gentle firmness and then cradled them both in his large, warm ones.
“Fuck,” he muttered, staring down my fingers, which were such an alarming shade of blue they didn’t look compatible with life. I gave my hands a tug to pull them back but he just held onto them more firmly, engulfing both of them in the heat of his, which, I had to admit, was about ten times better than the radiator. “You’re chuffing freezing,” he said, sounding even angrier as he scowled down at me. “How have you managed to get so cold on the way here? It can’t be more than a ten-minute walk.”
Ah – the fake address. I had to admit I was surprised he remembered my address at all. I took a deep breath and tried to slow my heart rate, despite the adrenaline pumping through my system. My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool, but I needed to do some quick thinking and some fast-talking to get out of this one. I was quite sure that Mr We-Don’t-Need-Any-Tech-Support would not want an actual vagrant as an employee. If he knew I’d slept out by the dumpsters last night I’d lose my job by the end
of the day. I was still in my six-week trial period. What kind of employer would want to keep on a homeless woman with a dodgy background in his classy, up-market, eco-architect set-up? But, worse, was if he I told him the whole story and he decided I needed to go the police. I could not speak to the police.
“I-I-I w-w-w-went for a w-w-w-walk.”
He blinked and then narrowed his too-intelligent eyes “You went for a walk?”
I swallowed.
“Y-y-yes.”
“You went for a walk with no gloves on, a damp coat …”
Damn, I had forgotten about my coat – it was soaking. I’d have to dry it somehow today. It might be designer and cashmere, but that was no bloody use to me when what I needed was waterproof and warm.
‘… carrying a heavy backpack until your lips turn so blue they’re nearly purple and your hands look like they’re going to develop frost bite?”
I bit my lip and nodded. At this point words were beyond me. And that foggy feeling was creeping back. After a freezing night, shivering on the damp ground, and having no sleep whatsoever, I found that even my fear of this man wasn’t going to be enough to keep me fully awake. Max’s jaw clenched as he searched my face, but then, without another word, he pulled me away from the radiator. I gave a small squeak of objection at the loss the heat at my back, and for a moment I panicked that he was going to throw me back outside into the cold. Yes, I was terrified of being trapped with him, but at that point I would have done anything not to be in the cold again.
“P-p-please,” I whimpered, hating myself, hating the weakness in my voice. “Please I c-c-can’t go back outside. N-n-not just yet. I’ll only stay a few minutes longer at the radiator. You won’t even know I’m th-th-there.”
Chapter 5
I might be weak, but I’m not stupid
Max
I glanced back at Mia’s panicked face and my throat tightened so much I actually had to clear it before I could speak.
“I’m not going to chuck you out,” I said, shocked that she would even think such a thing. Quite frankly she was scaring the shit out of me. Her skin was so blue and her hands were so cold it was terrifying. I was on the verge of calling Heath, but decided that the priority should be re-warming her.
She stiffened as I pulled her through into my office. I ignored her bewildered expression as I unbuttoned her sodden coat and threw it on my desk. Before she could protest I put both my hands on her shoulders to sit her down on my small leather sofa. When she was sitting I whipped off my puffa coat and draped it around her. It engulfed her completely. She looked tiny as she blinked up at me. I turned on my heel and prowled out of the office to grab the space heater they kept in the store cupboard for really cold days when the central heating just couldn’t cut it. After I’d dragged it back into the office and set it going at full blast the room was like a sauna in only a couple of minutes.
“Thank you,” Mia whispered and I moved to sit next to her, pulling her hands out from inside the folds of my coat and engulfing them in my own again. They were still cold, but not the full-on blocks of ice they’d been earlier. I was surprised that she didn’t resist, but when I looked up from her hands to her face I realised that she wasn’t fully there. Her eyelids were drooping and her head was nodding forward, her hands gradually went limp in mine – she was asleep sitting up. I took one of the throw cushions and put it at the end of the sofa, then gently moved her so that she was lying with her head on it. Her feet automatically lifted up onto the leather and she curled into a tight ball within my coat, half her face disappearing into it as well. I stood and stared down at her with my hands on my hips, then rubbed the back of my neck for a moment. Fuck it – I was calling Heath.
*****
“What is so frightfully pressing that I have to trek down to your fancy office on the morning after my night shift?” grumbled Heath. “Have you any idea how busy the emergency department is at the moment, big man?”
I rolled my eyes. Heath had always been a whiny little bitch. “It’s important, okay? Medical stuff.”
“Medical stuff does not narrow it down. I–” Heath fell silent as we walked into my office. “Max?” he said, drawing the name out. “There’s a small woman asleep on your sofa.”
“Yes, I know that, you pillock,” I snapped then lowered my voice when Mia stirred under my coat. “It’s Mia. I want you to check she’s okay.’
“Er … why? Did something happen to her?” The note of concern in Heath’s voice made my ears prick up. “Is she hurt?”
“No … well I don’t think so. She … she’s just proper nithered.”
“Nithered?’
I rolled my eyes and muttered, “Southern wanker,” under my breath. “She’s cold, okay. Freezing. Nithered.”
Heath blinked. “She’s cold? You dragged me over here straight after my twelve-hour shift to show me a cold woman? Max, everyone is cold today. It’s absolutely brass monkeys outside.”
I huffed out an annoyed breath. “She’s not just cold, you git – she looked almost dead and felt like ice. And once I warmed her up in the office she fell asleep sitting bolt upright. That shit is weird. Something’s wrong with her.”
Heath sighed but his expression softened when he looked at the small Mia bundle on the sofa.
“Okay, okay,” he murmured, moving to Mia and crouching down in front of her head. “Hey, sweetheart.” He kept his voice soft as he brushed some of the black hair out of her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. Her face, when relaxed in sleep and not tense or anxious or frowning, was actually … beautiful. She had a clear, pale complexion with not a scrap of make-up to be seen. Her brows arched perfectly over her eyes, her lips – when not held in a tight line – were full and formed a perfect bow. She looked like sleeping beauty. The only jarring aspect of her appearance was how cut her cheekbones were, giving her a gaunt, underfed, unhealthy look.
I crossed my arms over my chest. Heath touching Mia was making me feel strangely annoyed. That wave of protectiveness swept through me again and I shook my head to clear it. What was wrong with me?
“Mia?” Heath called again, his voice stronger now. Slowly, very slowly, Mia’s eyes blinked open. With visible effort she focused on Heath’s face in front of her. After a few seconds her sleepy expression cleared and was replaced by shock. She flew up to a sitting position, the huge coat slipping off her shoulders. Before either Heath or I could say anything, she leapt to her feet. Her eyes flicked to the exit then back at us and she froze.
“Mia, I –”
Mia focused on me for a moment, but then her eyes rolled back in her head and she swayed on her feet. I shot forward and caught her before she could crumple to the floor, manoeuvring her back onto the sofa, lying her down, and cocooning her in my coat again.
“See what I mean?” I said to Heath, the snap in my tone making Mia flinch on the sofa. “Shit,” I mumbled as my eyes snapped to her terrified ones. “Mia, it’s okay. Heath’s here to help.” My attempt at a non-threatening tone came out more growly than gentle. I’d never been great at soft and gentle, however hard I tried – my body was just too big, too imposing and my voice was pitched too low.
“Mia, what happened?” Heath asked, his tone managing to be so gentle that I could see Mia relax just slightly, triggering that inexplicable annoyance again. Why did Heath always seem to be able to say the right thing in the right way? He made me feel like a clumsy ogre in comparison.
‘Nothing … er … nothing happened,” she said, her voice hoarse from sleep. She cleared her throat before going on. “I … God. I’m so sorry. I must’ve fallen asleep.”
She tried to push up to sitting again and the image of her eyes rolling back in her head ran through my brain. Without thinking I stepped forward, planted both hands on her shoulders and pushed her firmly back down into the sofa. I hadn’t thought her face could get any paler. I was wrong. And now she was shaking again, not with cold this time but with actual fear. I had succeeded in scaring a woman so b
adly she was shaking. Did I have to be such a heavy-handed dickhead?
Heath shot me a well-deserved annoyed look and pushed me away from the sofa. I went back a step and scowled down at my shoes. I’d had to wear these bloody uncomfortable Italian leather jobs today as we had that big presentation to give for the museum refurbishment and extension. Verity had bought them for me after I’d turned up to the last one of these meetings in my scuffed, twenty-year-old loafers. I pulled at my collar, which felt too tight around my thick neck. Suits were the devil’s work and I never wore a tie if I could help it. I was infinitely jealous of the green pajamas and trainers Heath was currently sporting which passed for perfect consultant-in-emergency-medicine gear apparently. The irony was that the bastard loved pretentious suits and shoes.
“Sorry about that, Mia,” Heath said, his gentle tone drawing her eyes away from me. “Max didn’t mean to upset you, but you probably should lie there for a bit. You did look like you were going to pass out. When’s the last time you ate anything?”
Mia’s eyes flicked to me again and she did a sweep from head to toe of my outfit.
“Oh no,” she whispered. “Your presentation. That’s why you’re in so early. You’re preparing for it. And I’m ruining everything!” She started to shift as if she was going to sit up again and I took a step forward.
“It’s fine,” I snapped, again not managing to gentle my tone, but it did have the effect of making Mia shrink back into the sofa away from me. At least she wasn’t going to stand up again. I sighed. “Don’t worry about it. Just stop being difficult and let Heath look at you, right?”
She nodded and Heath pulled out some equipment from his bag, then wrapped his hand around her wrist to feel her pulse, took her temperature in her ear, put an something on her finger which flashed up some numbers and took her blood pressure.
“Okay you’ve warmed up now it seems,” he said, smiling at her. “But the question is, how did you get that cold in the first place?” Mia repeated the taking a walk story she’d given me and Heath’s head cocked to the side.