Masters at Arms

by Kallypso Masters

  With his peripheral vision, Adam watched two of Chicago’s finest enter the building with weapons drawn.

  “Hands in the air!”

  Adam complied, but apparently they knew their usual suspect and one of the officers had the pimp face down on the floor, hands cuffed behind his back, within fifteen seconds. Adam spoke with the second officer briefly to let him know what had happened. He was grateful they only asked for his name and cell phone number. They could follow up with him later if they needed more information.

  But Adam needed to make sure Karla was all right.

  * * *

  Karla huddled in the bathroom stall. She’d locked the stall door in hopes of protecting herself if those guys had come after her. Yeah, some protection. The so-called lock barely kept the door closed for privacy, much less safety.

  She couldn’t stop shaking. Her stomach clenched and heaved. At least there was a toilet nearby if she got sick. But it was awfully dirty in here.

  The sounds of the fight outside brought tears to her eyes. Adam had only wanted to protect her and now he could be killed. All because she was stupid and selfish.

  I just wanna go home. Please, God, protect him and help me get back home.

  “Hands in the air!” Then silence. No more grunts, crashes, or groans. Her heart pounded against her chest. She closed her eyes. The rush of blood pounding in her ears blocked out any other sound. Tears streamed down her face.

  Please let him be all right. Oh, God, let Adam be all right.

  The sound of the bathroom door creaking open caused her to back up against the tile wall. She held her breath, hoping they would think she’d left. Stupid. They know you’re in here, Kitty. They can see your feet.

  “Karla? Hon, you okay?”

  The wind gushed out of her lungs. She’d held her breath so long, she gasped for air several times. Oh my God. Adam!

  “It’s over. You can come out now.”

  She dropped the backpack, fiddled with the wobbly latch, and opened the stall door. “You’re alive!”

  “You know, I think I am.” He sounded surprised.

  Relief was short-lived. Oh, no! His beautiful face! “You’re bleeding!” Blood trickled from his lip down to his chin.

  “I’m fine. How are you doing?”

  Me? How can he think about me at a time like this?

  Maybe he was out of his mind from where they’d hit him in the head. Remembering freshman health class and all the times she’d watched Mom patch up Ian, Karla rushed to the sink and pulled out a wad of paper towels, wetting them with cold water. She blinked away the tears. She’d caused him this pain. If she hadn’t run away…

  When she turned, she realized she’d never be able to reach his face.

  “Kneel down. I need to clean you up.”

  He waved her hand away, dismissing her. “I said, I’m fine.” His tone hurt her feelings. She was only trying to help. After all, his injuries were all her fault.

  She remembered the tone of voice her Mom used to get Ian to obey her when he’d been stubborn, even when he had grown much taller than Mom. Karla pulled herself to her full five-foot-six-inch height and straightened her shoulders. “I. Said. Kneel. Down.”

  That got his attention. He grinned at her in a funny way. Then he knelt.

  Oh. My. God. It worked! He obeyed her!

  * * *

  Adam’s mind flashed back to the one and only time Joni thought she’d play the dominant with him. She was so damned cute in her over-the-knee stiletto boots, wielding a riding crop and wearing a black bustier that pushed her beautiful breasts up to the point of nearly spilling out. Well, he’d let her keep wearing the bustier and boots for a while, but wound up using the crop on her.

  Ah, Joni. I miss you, my precious subbie. How can I go on—?

  “What happened to those guys?”

  Adam blinked and saw the pink-haired runaway glancing toward the door with worry, as she pressed the cold paper towels against his lip. He drew a deep breath, beginning to feel the pain radiating through his shoulder. “The police have them all in custody. They won’t be bothering anyone for a while.”

  “Where else did they hurt you?”

  “One landed a lucky punch to my shoulder.” Pulling the paper away from his lip, he saw it covered with his blood. He could have let those thugs put an end to his misery tonight. Instead, he’d learned he still had the will to fight for what was right. Karla had needed him. He’d answered the call.

  She threw the bloody paper in the trash.

  “I’m fine.” Rising to his feet, he felt aches in places he didn’t know he had. Definitely getting too old for this shit. He wet a towel and handed it to her. “You might want to wipe the mascara off your cheeks. I don’t want your parents thinking the worst about what adventures you’ve had tonight.”

  “How did you know I wanted to go home?”

  Good girl.

  “Lucky guess.”

  Apparently, she’d had enough of the exciting runaway life. If she hadn’t come to her senses, though, he’d already planned to take her home anyway, kicking and screaming if he had to.

  After she’d cleaned her face, he picked up her backpack and slung it over his shoulder with a grunt. Shit. Was there any place on his body that didn’t hurt? He’d have a bruise on his shoulder blade tomorrow, too. Even his legs and foot ached from his impact punches.

  Bring it on. He focused on this new pain. Funny, but the physical pain helped the emotional pain to recede a bit, even if it was only a temporary reprieve.

  Adam walked up to the ticket counter and waited as Karla got a refund for the ticket she wouldn’t be needing—not for a few years at least. The dispatcher announced his bus departure in five minutes. Oh, well. He’d just have to catch the next one tomorrow. He asked when that would be.

  “Nine-fifteen.”

  “Good. Just a few hours behind schedule.”

  “No, sir. P.M.”

  Fuck. He hoped he could make it back to Pendleton on time.

  But no fucking way was he letting Karla wander the streets alone tonight to get back home. With that wild pink hair, she was nothing but a trouble magnet.

  * * *

  Karla didn’t know what to say to him, so they rode in silence most of the cab ride home. He had to spend another day in the bus station waiting for his bus, all because of her. Was he mad at her? He just stared out the window, looking at the lights of downtown as the cab made its way to her Lincoln Park neighborhood.

  Jeez, she’d sure messed things up tonight. Who was stupid enough to run away the night before Thanksgiving? Only you, Kitty. She could hear her friends now when she told them about her night.

  But Adam had gotten hurt and now she had to face her parents. They weren’t going to be very happy with her.

  “Why the long face?” He must have gotten tired of watching the scenery going by.

  “I screwed up big time.” She couldn’t look at him and remind him of how she’d messed up his plans.

  “They might be mad at first, but they’ll be glad to have you home safe.”

  Karla felt him continuing to stare at her. She chewed on her lower lip; then finally got the courage up to look over at him. Over and up. Jeez, he was tall, even sitting down. The street lights lit his face—off, then on, then off again. She noticed the cut on his lip was still bleeding, but just a trickle. She wished she’d brought more paper towels.

  Adam had fought to protect her tonight. He could have been killed. There were three of them and they’d had weapons! Instead, he’d saved her from whatever that guy had wanted to do with her. Probably rape her, or make her a hooker, or even sell her to a sex-slave operation. She knew about these things. She watched enough TV.

  What she didn’t know was how she could ever get Adam to forgive her. Well, she’d be home in a few minutes and probably would never see him again. Still, she needed his forgiveness.

  “Adam…I’m sorry I got you mixed up in this. And I’m really sorry you got
hurt on account of me.”

  He was quiet for a little while, his eyes kinda sad again. She hated that she had made him sad this time. Then one side of his mouth tilted up in half a smile. The side that wasn’t cut. Her stomach clenched every time she looked at his wound.

  “I’d do it all over again to keep you safe. Just promise me you won’t run away again. Next time, you might not be so lucky.”

  The cab stopped. She looked out the window and saw they were in front of her house. The porch light was on and Mom’s goofy wreath with all the harvest vegetables on it was displayed on the door. A pumpkin sat on the post at the top of the stairs. The big brick house and hokey decorations never looked so good to her before.

  Tears spilled down her cheeks. She probably looked like a raccoon again, but she didn’t care. On impulse, she turned around and wrapped her arms around Adam, well as much of him as she could reach around. He had the hardest, widest shoulders she’d ever felt.

  After a moment, he wrapped his arms around her, too. His arms felt good around her. She felt safe. She wondered what it would be like if he kissed her.

  What the hell, Kitty?

  He squeezed her really tight, making it hard to breathe. Or was the lack of air the result of her heart beating so fast? She decided to just let him hug her as tightly as he wanted. Ian had hugged her that way, too, before he’d left home the last time. Adam might not get to hug a girl again for a long, long time. Why, she was being patriotic to let him hug her. Although she had to admit that it felt really good to be in his arms.

  He whispered, “Thank you,” and she smiled through her tears. His whiskers scratched, tickling her ear.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, Adam.”

  He pulled away, and she wished they could have kept hugging. “Same to you, Karla.”

  He was kinda cute when he smiled that way, without the sad eyes. “Oh, no! Where will you eat turkey today?”

  “No problem. I usually have ham on Thanksgiving anyway…” Then his smile disappeared. Double damn. She’d made him think sad thoughts again.

  “It’s probably best if I stay inside the taxi, in case your parents are watching. You have enough problems without having to explain what you’re doing hanging out with an old Marine.” He smiled. “But I’ll wait here until you get inside.” Then he grew serious again. “Just promise me you won’t run away again.”

  She nodded. “I promise.”

  Karla looked down at her backpack. Her throat hurt too much to speak, but, as she opened the door, she turned back and cleared it enough to whisper, “Promise me you’ll come home safe.”

  “I’ll do my best, honey.” He looked away and repeated in a whisper. “I’ll do my best.”

  Suddenly, Adam’s door whipped open and two hands reached inside to grab Adam by the shirt.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing with my sixteen-year-old daughter, you pervert!”

  Karla leaned over to protect him, but Adam pushed her out of harm’s way, as if worried she might be hit by accident.

  “Daddy, no! Don’t hurt him!”

  What was she worried about Adam for? He could have decked Daddy with one hand tied behind his back. Maybe two. But Adam just let himself be pulled from the cab without putting up a fight. Karla scrambled across the seat and exited behind him. Adam stood with his hands at his sides. She moved to wedge herself between him and her dad.

  Her Mom came running around the front of the cab and pulled he back. “Karla, get in the house!”

  But Karla needed to get to Adam, if he wouldn’t defend himself. She’d never seen Daddy so angry.

  “Not now, Mom.” She brushed her mom’s hand aside and went to where Daddy had Adam backed up against the trunk of the cab. Oh, God, he had his fist raised, ready to slam into Adam’s already injured face.

  “Daddy, don’t!” Karla grabbed onto his arm and he stopped to look down at her. “He didn’t do anything to me. He rescued me. Twice!”

  Daddy was breathing really hard. Definitely not in as good a shape as Adam. And yet Adam hadn’t even put up his arms in defense. Why not?

  Daddy turned to Adam, “Maybe you’d better explain yourself.”

  Adam opened his mouth, but Karla knew he’d downplay everything. He was way too modest. “Daddy, he fought off three jerks who wanted to hurt me. He bought me dinner. He’s a good man and if you hurt him, I’m going to run away again and I’ll never come back!”

  Adam looked down at her and she thought she heard him growl. She tried to ignore him, but knew he wasn’t happy with her threat, even though she knew she wasn’t going to run away ever again.

  “Okay. I’m not going to run away.” Both Adam and her father relaxed a little bit. “But on account of me, he missed his bus.”

  Daddy let go of Adam’s now even more wrinkled shirt and stepped back. “You protected my Karla?”

  “I just did what anyone would do.”

  “Don’t listen to him, Daddy. There were three of them! And they had weapons. Adam was unarmed.”

  Adam glanced away and down at the ground.

  “I don’t want him to spend Thanksgiving sitting in the bus terminal until tomorrow night. Adam needs a place to stay tonight.”

  Oh, that got Adam to look at her again! But he didn’t look very happy about it.

  “Is that true? Do you need a place to stay?”

  “No, sir. I’m fine. I’ve slept in worse places than a bus station.”

  Karla’s mom wrapped her arm around Karla, but her words were directed at Adam. “Nonsense. If our son was in your situation, we’d hope someone would...” Mom’s voice always broke when she talked about Ian now. “We’d be honored if you’d come inside.”

  “He can sleep in Ian’s room,” Karla offered.

  “No, I don’t want to impose.”

  Daddy looked from her to Adam. “If what Karla says is true, it’s the least we can do for you for bringing our little girl home.” He reached out his hand to Adam. “I’m Carl Paxton. Sorry about roughing you up.”

  Adam looked down at Daddy’s hand for a few seconds.

  Go on. Shake it.

  When Adam finally reached out, she knew he’d be staying. She let out the breath she’d been holding.

  “Adam Montague. Nice to meet you, sir.”

  “He’s a master sergeant, Daddy. In the Marines!”

  She wasn’t sure what rank that was, but it sure sounded important. When Adam looked at her like he didn’t need her help, she just smiled. She didn’t have to say goodbye to Adam yet.

  * * *

  Adam let go of Paxton’s hand. The man had a firm grip and an honest face. Karla’s parents seemed like good people. What the hell was she thinking, running away from a nice safe home like this? If she were his daughter, he’d tan her hide.

  Her dad looked down at Adam’s mouth. “You’re bleeding.”

  “It’s nothing.” Adam licked at his wound. He tasted the iron on his tongue.

  “His shoulder’s injured, too, Mom.”

  Karla’s mom let her go and came at him like a mother hen. “I’m sorry. Let’s get you in out of this cold. Where’s your coat?”

  Ahem.

  Adam turned to see the taxi driver. Shit. He’d forgotten about him. He reached for his wallet, but Karla’s dad put a hand on his arm. “Go with the girls. I’ll take care of this. You’ve paid enough already.” The man pulled several bills from his wallet.

  Outmaneuvered, Adam suddenly felt too tired to argue. Opening the back door to the taxi, he reached inside to pull out his seabag, just as Karla leaned in the other side to get her things. She looked across the back seat at him and smiled.

  Damn. He could see how she wrapped her parents around her little finger. Hell, he had to admit her smile worked on him, as well. He probably wouldn’t have been able to tan her hide, either, even when she did deserve it. Her enthusiasm and innocence were sweet. He grinned back at her.

  Before he had a moment to think, Karla and her mother flanked him
and ushered him up the sidewalk. He looked up the steep stairs to the porch, noticing the pumpkin. Joni would have decorated their porch the same way. Fuck. He hadn’t thought about his wife much since he’d gotten caught up in Karla’s troubles.

  God, Joni, I’m so sorry.

  Guilt twisted his gut. In an instant, a deluge of two months of painful memories brought his mood back down to where it ought to be. What the fuck was he doing bringing his foul mood into this family’s home on Thanksgiving Day? Just what the hell did he have to be thankful for? He turned around to stop the taxi, just as it pulled away from the curb.

  What a clusterfuck.

  With reluctance, he turned and began climbing the stairs to the porch, feeling each of the dozen steps in his shaky legs.

  Paxton caught up with them and opened the door. To his wife, he said, “I’ll make some calls to Karla’s friends’ parents and let them know she’s home safe.”

  Inside, the house was warm. Smelled like cinnamon. Karla’s mother led him to the kitchen, where she sat him down on a chair at the table for six. Several pies were lined up on the counter.

  “Off with the shirt.”

  Adam hoped his expression conveyed to her that no fucking way was he removing his shirt. “I’m fine, ma’am.”

  She just laughed. “Don’t go there with me. I’m a nurse. I’ve seen more naked bodies than you can shake a fist at. Off.” Her fingers motioned for him to follow her order. “I am going to take a look at that shoulder, one way or another.” When he still refused to move, she added, “Now!” She’d have made a great drill sergeant.

  Adam looked over at Karla, who seemed to be waiting for a show to begin, her eyes wide open, chin propped on her palm at the island in the middle of the room. No fucking way was he going to let her see his back. He did a half turn in the chair.

  Mrs. Paxton seemed to notice his discomfort. “Karla, run up to the bathroom and get me the new first-aid kit. There are some things missing from this one.”

  He saw the disappointment in the girl’s eyes, but she did as she was told. She seemed like a good kid. He unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off. God, the muscles in both shoulders ached, not just the bruised one. He was getting soft in his old age.