Quicksilver Dreams (Dreamwalkers)

by Adele, Danube

“Cynthia, we’ve got to go. Now.” Nick’s tone of voice was more commanding than friendly as he came down the stairs with her suitcase. “Make sure you have everything you need.”

  “I told you I wasn’t finished packing!” She raised her voice at him, which made my eyes round in shock. Powerful mischief was running amok! I even took a quick look around to see if anyone was witnessing this strange, unusual occurrence, but no one else in the apartment complex seemed to be braving L.A.’s midday summer heat.

  “Half your closet is in here already. Whatever you don’t have we’ll buy on the road.” Nick’s tone brooked no argument, and I waited for the counter Cyn explosion to bust out.

  It didn’t come, though I could almost hear the mental growl Cynthia was trying to breathe her way through in order to regain her infamous self-control. I wondered if she was going to make it without unloading all over this guy. It also made me wonder what had happened between them. The mystery loomed in my brain, because I’d never seen Cynthia as off-kilter as she’d been the last twenty-four hours. Was this Nick a good guy? Should I worry about her?

  And strangely enough, as though he heard my question, Nick paused as he walked by us and gave me a real smile that showed off his absolute gorgeousness. “I’ll take care of her. She’ll be in good hands. I promise.” He did one of those quick two-finger salutes and continued on while Cynthia watched him walk out through the security gate with a wistful expression that sort of told me all. She gave me another hug and ran back up to the apartment with a parting wave.

  “We’ll talk soon!”

  “Okay! Good luck! Keep me updated.”

  I knew there was something weird about all of the exchanges I’d participated in this morning, but with so much going on that was out of the norm, I forgot to think about it.

  Besides, the gym called to me, and I arrived in time to take the kickboxing class that always gives me a feeling of empowerment. I wasn’t just getting exercise, I was learning how to kick and punch really effectively. I could, potentially, kick some ass if the need arose, which made me feel large and in charge. Very important when you’ve felt helpless and at the mercy of others your whole life.

  At least that’s what Rico says to me every time I show up, that I’m learning how to defend myself. I think he’s got a little crush, so I imagine he’ll say whatever he thinks will get me coming back to his class. It must work though, because there I was, sweating like a pig, huffing and puffing and doing my best to use proper form while doing a roundhouse kick to the heavy bag.

  “Back to combinations: left jab, right cross, left hook. Left, right, hook! Left, right, hook! Now add an uppercut! Left jab, right cross, left hook, right uppercut!”

  “I can’t do this much longer,” an older lady who was seriously sucking air said from the heavy bag next to mine.

  “Hang in there!” I managed to spit out, still taking it out on the innocent bag.

  She was someone I recognized by face from the class. Though I never got her name, she was really inspiring to watch and cheer on. She had game.

  Of course, now too much time had gone by for me to ask her name without feeling totally stupid.

  “I’m trying to hang in there,” she gasped.

  “Ten more minutes,” I panted with burning lungs, but our talking brought Rico’s attention to us.

  “Keep your gloves up,” he barked at me over the sound of the music, and I tried, really, but my shoulder muscles were burning from the last forty minutes of class. Who knew you needed shoulder muscles to keep your arms working?

  “One more addition! Add the backhand! You have to step into it with your left foot! Left jab, right cross, left hook, right uppercut, right backhand! Left, right, hook, uppercut, backhand! Left, right, hook, uppercut, backhand!”

  With my last bit of energy, I attacked the bag for the next two minutes, and when the song finally ended and Rico called “Enough!” I was absolutely noodled. I could do little more than rest my hands on my knees in a bent position and concentrate on forcing air into my lungs quickly enough to keep myself from passing out.

  “Good work, Taylor. You’ve got heart.” Rico held up his hand, and I just barely managed to high-five it, feeling proud of the compliment. He turned back to the class and called, “Time to cool down!” I found that a little affirmation went a long way as I discovered the energy to do some stomach crunches and stretches with the class to finish things out without actually passing out entirely.

  Rico turned off the music and thanked everyone for a good class as they made their ways out. I was feeling quite accomplished and full of bravado, thinking, Just let someone try to accost me on the street and see what I do. I’ll wale on their ass!

  I smiled, imagining it from my position on the floor, completely out of energy, which I recognized as being completely ironic. The need for water drove me to stand—that and the fact that people scheduled for the next class were beginning to arrive. I got up and grabbed the water from my bag, where it was tossed alongside the back wall of the room, and downed it in great gulps.

  “So what are you up to tonight?” Rico was pulling the strap to his athletic bag over his shoulder as he approached me.

  “Work.” I downed more water and capped it, popping it back into my gym bag.

  “Ever have time for fun?” He was smiling flirtatiously, and he was definitely a handsome guy. But though I would have considered going out with him even a week ago, somehow his chin seemed weak and his eyes weren’t green, and he was only average height (which was still taller than me). It was silly, but there you have it.

  “The world is an expensive place, Rico. I work six days a week and rest on the seventh.”

  “Yeah, well, let me know if you ever have free time. I think we could have some fun.” His dark eyes smiled playfully into mine, and somehow they just didn’t seem serious enough, intense enough.

  Just shoot me, right? This was probably yet another manifestation of my need to stay away from emotional entanglements and come up with reasons why I couldn’t be with someone, even when I’d been attracted to them before. One of the main reasons I’d started taking this class was because I thought Rico was a hot guy. Over time, I’d realized it was a good class and it was helping me live my life like a badass. One of my needs in this life I lived was to be able to take care of myself no matter what. I could never rely on anyone else for anything, ever again. Ever.

  “I’ll see you next week,” I offered, and he walked on with a parting shrug, like a you-can’t-blame-me-for-trying gesture.

  “It hurts while I’m doing it, but I just feel great when I’m done.” The older woman came up to me with a wide-open smile. “Besides, with my new body, I was able to shop for lingerie for the first time in years. I got this really cute nightgown that I might wear tonight.” She was blushing like a schoolgirl, which was absolutely lovely to see.

  “Ken’s the lucky guy?” I wiped the drips of sweat on my gym towel as they rolled down my temples and remembered how she’d mentioned this guy the last several weeks that I’d talked with her after class. It was funny that I knew her guy’s name, but not hers.

  “Yeah. I’m going to cook for him tonight. I make the best pasta sauce, if I do say so myself. What about you? Rico’s handsome. Are you two going out tonight?”

  “Naw, I’ve got work. The bills don’t pay themselves.”

  “You work every weekend, honey. Don’t waste your youth. You only get it once.”

  “Yeah, well, life gets complicated.”

  “That it does. It can teach you things that aren’t healthy to learn, if you’re not careful. I know that one. I better go. I need to make a trip to the grocery store.”

  It was an interesting way to leave things, and I was sure the cryptic comment was deliberately left to my interpretation, but critical thinking was not going to happen right after a hard-cor
e workout. Still, her comment stuck with me as I walked all the way out to my car...and saw that the passenger-side window was smashed in.

  “No,” I whispered, rushing to it in the parking lot. “Are you kidding me? Why? It’s a piece of junk!”

  But it was my piece of junk. I’d managed to save for it, buy it used, pay for insurance and gas every month, take care of maintenance and repairs. There was nothing of value in it to steal. Even the radio was old and broken, but that was okay with me. It was my little junker that I’d been able to afford and rely on. And while I know cars get broken into all the time, it just didn’t make sense that mine was targeted.

  Peering through the window, I tried to think if I’d left anything out on the seat, but the only thing I had that I considered to be valuable was my phone, and that had been safely tucked away in my bag inside the gym with me. So it just didn’t make sense. Glass shards spread across the passenger seat, the floor mats were tossed around haphazardly, and the map book I usually kept under my driver’s seat was ripped up. It was almost like someone was mad and just trying to do damage for some reason.

  God, what a weird day this was turning into.

  There didn’t seem to be anything missing. I shoved the pieces of map book out of the way, practically threw myself onto the driver’s seat in a huff, and drove home with the car as it was. What could I do about it in the parking lot? If I stared at it any longer, I was going to cry, and that was something I just didn’t do in public. Not a good badass image to project. What sounded good was a lukewarm shower, some time to cry on my pillow and a nap before work. I needed some cooling-off time before dealing with the problem.

  An image of Ryder, my knight in shining armor from last night, came to mind. His intense green eyes and tough, not-to-be-fucked-with deadly silent demeanor somehow inspired confidence, and I felt better.

  As though my thoughts manifested the man, I saw him sitting at one of the common-area tables by the pool in the courtyard, and my heart kicked up a beat. It was both exciting and disconcerting that he was just as devastating to my senses as I remembered.

  He was reading the paper, with a bottle of water sitting in front of him. Black hair damp and wearing swim trunks, he looked like he’d just taken a swim. Unfortunately, he’d already put on a white logoed T-shirt, which was stretched across his muscular chest oh, so deliciously.

  The view was letting me forget about my problems for the moment and just enjoy.

  Disappointingly, as I came through the security gate, he didn’t even look up. I was deliberately making a lot of clanging noise, you know?

  Hmm.

  I thought about bypassing the courtyard completely and just going up the side stairs to my apartment. However, there seemed to be an invisible rope strongly wrapped around my sense of free will, commandeering it, and I found my feet carrying me toward him anyway. He sighted me over the rim of his paper and lowered it, startling me with his darkly grim expression. He did a split-second inventory of my clothing and gym bag before returning to my eyes. It was like he was mad at me. It gave me pause. I wasn’t sure what to make of his mood and questioned whether to continue toward him. Maybe he wanted to be alone? Not be bothered?

  In for a penny... I proceeded with caution.

  “I—I just wanted to thank you for your help last night,” I offered hesitantly. “That could have gotten really ugly.”

  At first I thought he wasn’t going to say anything. He was just looking at me with a firm scowl and those commanding green eyes, but then he tossed out “Yeah.”

  It was a noncommittal reply, and I couldn’t gauge what his general feeling was about the encounter last night or his feelings about me standing there in front of him. I suddenly wished I had Cynthia’s femme-fatale moves from the night before. I wished I could glide over with sophistication and confidence and be able to sling some clever conversation that would get his attention. But on a good day I’d have trouble meeting that order, much less on a day where I felt out of the norm, where too many unpredictable events were presenting themselves. I decided the best course of action was retreat.

  “Well, um, I think I’ve interrupted your...reading.”

  “Yeah.”

  Damn that word.

  I stepped back, ready to save face. “I’m sorry for interrupting. I just wanted to say thank you. It’s one of the hazards of the job, I guess. Guys like that get drunk and think they can just grab what they want—”

  “Can’t say I blame him.” He leaned back in his chair, folded the paper very deliberately and set it down, never breaking eye contact.

  For a moment I thought I’d misheard him. Stepping toward the table again, I said, “Excuse me?”

  “I can’t say I blame him,” he repeated very deliberately. “You advertise, you should expect guys to take you up on it.”

  Holy hell. He did not just say that. “You’re saying I asked for it?” My tone was all disbelief.

  “You wear a skirt that barely covers your ass and then wonder why some guy tries to grab it.” His voice was more of a rumbling growl as he scowled up at me.

  What the...! He was no knight in shining armor! A demon, if anything.

  “I never signed on to be a knight in shining armor.” He curled a lip with disdain.

  “Good thing,” I sputtered angrily.

  He continued. “I’m just telling it like it is. I wouldn’t have had to do anything if you’d been watching out for yourself. You have no idea...”

  I heard the faint resentment in his statement and attributed it to him having to help me out last night, and I was embarrassed all over again. I could feel my cheeks blazing. “Then thanks for nothing. Next time just stay out of it! I can take care of myself.”

  “Next time, don’t advertise.”

  Them’s fighting words! It’s on! “You think a guy has the right to do as he pleases when he feels like it?”

  “No. But if I walk in a dangerous neighborhood flashing wads of cash, I should expect to get robbed.”

  “Are you kidding me? I should be able to walk around naked and not have to worry about any guy grabbing me!” My anger was bubbling.

  “Yeah.” He looked me over with a mocking expression. “Good luck with that. Let me have an invite when that little event’s about to take place.”

  “Classic! Absolutely classic! Because I’m wearing something that gives a guy a boner, I’m an evil bitch who deserves what she gets?”

  “I’m saying you’re naive, and it’s going to get you hurt.”

  “Oh, that’s better! Thanks for that clarification. I’m just too stupid to know how to take care of myself! I’ll remember that from now on!”

  “Dammit, that’s not what I said and not what I meant.” He stood suddenly, the chair scraping back on the cement in a single powerful motion. He towered over me, clearly agitated, but I was no longer going to listen. I didn’t have it in me to do this, whatever this was.

  Screw you, pal!

  “Whatever. I’m out of here.” At this point, it was just all too much. At most any other time, I could have coped better, but here was Ryder thinking so poorly of me while I’d been all turned on by him, which left me with a painful case of humiliation. On top of my car being broken into (which was a horrible invasion of my private self) when I couldn’t afford to fix it, there was Cynthia being all weird with me and leaving indefinitely, and I could feel the crumbling begin. My world as I knew it was changing radically (something I don’t handle well), and I needed to get home so I could break down alone in the privacy of my shower.

  “Now hold on...”

  “For your information—” I spun back around, eyes blazing, though I hated that I could feel my throat clogging with emotion, “—my skirt more than covered my ass, and you’re as much of an asshole as that guy last night, if you think I somehow invited his attenti
on.”

  Jerk! I spun around to beat a retreat before I fully broke down. Normally, I avoided situations that could make me feel small and stupid, so why had I invited this? Coming through the gate, I knew I should have gone straight up. Why had I ignored my good sense? As it was, I could feel the hot tears spilling over onto my cheeks. I just didn’t need this today.

  He grabbed my arm before I made it three steps.

  “Leave me alone.” I tried to jerk free, keeping my head down so he wouldn’t see my face, because I was already horribly embarrassed that he thought I dressed cheaply, which to my mind equals trailer trash (one of my sensitive buttons). I’ve worked so hard to drag myself up from those painful roots to remake myself, knowing I came from what most would term white trash. Added to that, now I was being all stupid and girly with tears.

  His grip was like a steel shackle. I couldn’t break free.

  “Hold on,” he commanded roughly.

  “I don’t want you touching me—”

  “Just wait a damn minute. You’re bleeding.”

  “Bleeding?” That got my attention, and I peered over my shoulder to see what he was referring to.

  Ryder knelt down to where my spandex shorts ended, and sure enough, there were a number of small pieces of glass embedded in the back of my thigh. And now that I could see them and know they were there, they started to sting.

  “Ow.” I hissed as he pulled one out. Bright droplets pooled and dripped down my leg at the spot where the small glass piece had been sticking in.

  “You have a first-aid kit?”

  “I think so. Cynthia, my roommate, does at least.”

  “I’ll help you clean up.” His voice and touch were suddenly gentle, and that was somehow making things worse. I had been ready to start hating him, and now he was going to be all nice to me? No way. I was done. I needed desperately to be alone so I could cry and truly have a good pity party.

  “Thanks, but I’ll handle it.” I pulled away quickly and made for the stairs, trying to wipe the tears from my face. Again, I didn’t get far.