Rolling her eyes to the back of her head, she snipped annoyed, “Saving your sorry ass has cost me a lot and now I’m really regretting everything I’ve done for you."
"How so?"
"I used what was left of my money to get across town to here and now I can't get anymore money til the holidays is over." She wasn’t going to mention the three hundred dollars she’d gotten for the ring. Making him feel guilty might make him give her more money when they finally found some place to drop him off.
"What holiday?"
"Christmas. It's fucking Christmas, dumb ass." She was having a sinking feeling she might not see any reward money at all and this all might have really been a real waste of her time and energy. “Damn! Your memory is shot to shit.”
He did feel quite ignorant for not knowing this, but present thoughts were hard to hold on to and when he did his head hurt worse. "Is there any pain medicine in that first aid kit?"
"Yes. I'll give it to you after you wash up,” she promised. “There’s blood all over your clothes and I can't take you anywhere looking as if you've been shot. They’ll look at me as if I did something to you."
Suspiciously, he asked, “How do I know you didn’t? You could be helping me out to cover up your crime.”
“You can get the fuck out and try to find your way to somewhere for all I care,” she said insulted. “Change or I won’t help you and if you accuse me of something else I’m going to scream and leave your ass like I should have left you in the dumpster in the first place to die. You have to change whether you like it or not.”
"But I don’t like those clothes. They are worn. I want new clothes.”
She looked at him tiredly, before turning around to leave.
"Where are you going?" he inquired.
"To give you privacy," she said frustrated.
"You're going to stand out in the cold? Aren’t you being more than accommodating?"
"I don't know what that means?" she said turning to him.
It felt natural to say something mean and sarcastic, but he bit his tongue. "Don't go to any lengths for me. I'll be quick about it, I promise. Just tell me where I pour the water."
She took a bowl from where the dishes were and handed it to him. Going over to the far corner, she turned her back to him and picked up a magazine.
As he removed his clothes, he asked, "You can read, I take it?"
"No, not enough to understand what they are talking about all the time," she said. "I think they said I had like a fifth grade education. But I like to look at the pictures."
“How’d you get your GED if you can’t read?” he questioned suspiciously.
“I memorized the test with an audio tutorial and a book from the library. It practically gives you the answers and then I just had to remember the order of the letter characters to match them up on the test.”
He found that amazing to know because she had to have a great memory in order to have accomplished all of that by herself.
She was holding a female magazine with lots of models and pretty clothes. She stopped on each page and seemed to drink up the life that he felt a woman in her situation was never going to have. He was going to say something regarding this, but knew she would get that tone of voice for him not to pity her.
"What's your name?" he inquired.
"Most people call me Jona," she said. “My dad's name was Jonah with an H. Most people just know me as his daughter."
"But that's not your name."
She shook her head. "It's Hope."
He looked at the back of her head. Right now all he was really looking at was the dirty hat pulled down covering the tops of her ears and whatever hair she could have had under there. The only reason he knew she was a girl was because of the features of her face. That was something she couldn't hide, despite the shabby clothes of a man she deigned to wear that were thoroughly faded and worn. Even though she didn’t smell bad, he doubted those clothes had been new when she put them on and he’d also be surprise if she was clean health wise. All this time on the street and she didn't succumb to giving herself to unprotected sex?
He refused to believe that.
"What's wrong?" she asked putting the magazine down, but not turning around.
"Nothing," he lied.
“You aren't a good liar, but so be it." She shrugged.
"I was watching you look through that magazine and I started to feel bad for you. But I knew how you hated to be pitied, so I was keeping that to myself."
“That’s all?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“So be it,” she said again and James had a feeling she still didn’t believe him.
He poured the water in the bowl and winced when he had to raise his shoulder to wipe himself down.
"What’s wrong?" she asked.
"It hurts," he snapped. “And I can’t get my back.”
"Can you clean your bottom area and then I'll come help you," she asked.
He thought this was the nicest thing for her to offer. "Yes. Give me a moment." After another second while he tried to clean himself, he asked, “How old are you?”
“I think almost thirty.” She flipped through her magazine, while he used the soap and washcloth to clean himself and then the old clothes to dry himself with. Once he was done, he put the bottom clothes on along with the socks. “I’m ready.”
She turned around to him and he watched her survey him. He was naked from the waist up. He liked the way her soft brown eyes appreciated his body and her fingers wiggled indicating an itch to touch him. He didn’t know how he knew this about women, but he did and he liked knowing these things. She picked up his old shirt and went to dip it in the water.
"Turn around," she ordered.
He obeyed and she took an old milk crate to stand on so she could get above his broad shoulders.
"What happened to my feet," he questioned. "They feel strange and they are sore."
"Really?" she asked her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You didn't have on any shoes when I found you. I had to put on my socks on your feet.”
“Why?”
“If I could answer that then I could probably tell you why you were in that alley and why someone you seemed like you knew shot you, took all your identification and left you to die, couldn’t I?”
When she put it that way, the question had been foolish. Was he trying to trip her up? See exactly what she knew? He couldn’t even understand his thinking but he had a feeling whoever he was didn’t trust women much, yet he needed to trust her now because she was all he knew.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" he questioned.
"Hopefully for the reward I'll get when I turn you in," she said hopefully. As she wiped down the blood carefully around his bandage behind his ear, she continued, “You better be worth at least a hundred dollars.”
"And if you find out I'm just a pauper who may look rich, will you be mad?"
"If pauper means broke, I’ll be very disappointed and I won’t be taking you back with me?”
“Why not?”
“You’d be absolutely worthless on the street, although a face like yours could turn a good trick.” She giggled. “But you do seem like the type who’s too picky to just sleep with anyone for money.”
He turned around to look at her seriously. “What if I really didn’t have anyone or anything, honestly?”
She sighed. “I’d be honestly very angry.” Turning his head back around to continue cleaning behind him, she said, “Do you know how much money I could have made panhandling at the grocery store tomorrow?"
"How much? he asked.
"Twelve dollars!!" she cried excitedly.
He winced and chuckled at the same time. "Only twelve?"
She put her hands firmly on his shoulder and turned him around to her. "Twelve dollars may not seem like much to you, but it's a fortune to me.” She wanted to make him feel guilty for taking humor at her poverty. “That could have bought me a nice New Years Eve meal and even som
e good water I could actually enjoy. I wouldn't have had to pan handle for at least a whole week and I could have bought myself some more socks. I love brand new socks.” Jona said this so exuberantly he almost envied how he hadn't appreciated the little things. “While I’m thinking about it, put on those extra pairs of socks and then put those rubber socks on to protect your feet.”
Deep in his soul he knew somehow he had lost that small appreciation of life's joy and longed to find it.
"I kissed you, didn’t I?" he suddenly remembered as he put on the socks quickly and then turned around to look at her.
She lowered her gaze, turned his body back around sharply and pretended there was a spot on his shoulder that really needed attention.
"Did I?" He asked again just a little bit more doubtfully.
"Yes, you did."
He looked back at her. "You let me."
“You grabbed my face. You were out of it. You didn't know what you were doing."
"Did you like it?"
She bawled the shirt up and tossed it in his dirty clothes pile. "You're clean enough," she said ignoring his question. "You can put your clothes on."
As much as he wanted, he didn't press her about the answer because he already knew what she wanted to say. Her eyes had lit up when he spoke about the kiss and her eyes didn’t lie to him. "When was the last time some man kissed those lips, Hope?"
"Don't call me that," she snipped.
"Why not?"
She shrugged. "I just never heard it on anyone’s lips in a very long time. Not since..." her voice dropped off and she frowned deeply. "Not since my dad."
"But it's your name."
She stepped away from him and picked up the old clothes as he dressed.
“Do I have a name? Do you know?”
“The woman called you James, I think.”
He grabbed her arm after he had just put on the undershirt and made her look up at him. “I didn’t forget my question about the kiss.”
She moved away from him to get away from his touch. “And I didn’t want to answer it.”
He let her go not pressing her about answering. From what he determined, she was a very private person and had always trusted the streets more than she trusted human kind.
"What time is it?" he questioned.
Without looked at anything, she said, "It's three in the morning."
“How do you know?"
"My body clock has been accurate for a while now and I’m sure it's three o'clock in the morning."
"And if you're wrong?" he questioned.
"I'm never wrong when it comes to time."
“What time did I get shot?”
“It was late in the afternoon. A little bit after five.”
He yawned. "What time should we leave for the police?"
"You ask a lot of questions."
"Don't you think I should? I don't know who I am, how I got here and what I'm doing where I know I don't belong."
"You're frustrated, but I hope once we get you in the precinct they'll know immediately who you are. I'm sure someone has reported you missing by now. It's been almost a full day and you look semi important, so maybe you should get some rest."
"And then you'll get your money and that's it." Most likely he'd never see her again. Although he didn’t understand, but that thought didn't sit fine in his gut.
"Yes, that's it." She looked at him sternly tired of fighting not to look at his chest in awe and appreciation. He was built like those male models in the underwear or cologne ads she saw in the magazine. "Hurry and get dressed. It's not that warm in here."
He put on another t-shirt and then the sweater.
She pointed to the pallet. "Get some rest." Giving him a bottle of water and the first aid kit, she said, "Take some more pain medicine."
While he did that, he watched her gather the bowl he had used and pour the water down the drain. She put some clothes out and sat them out by the mattress, then laid down after turning out the light. The only thing lighting their area was the orange light from the heater.
"How old are you?" he questioned with a yawn.
"I told you already. Almost thirty. How old are you?"
He bit his tongue remembering she had answered that question, but he wasn’t ready to just go to sleep. He wanted to make conversation. "My brain tells me to say thirty five, but I think I’m older. I feel older for some reason."
"Are you scared?" she asked.
Her asking him a question to keep the conversation going, gave him hope she might really like him more than he thought. "I think I am."
"Join the club. I'm scared everyday. If you try anything I'll carve your dick off." With that she turned her back to him and curled in a ball.
He was taken aback by her warmness and then complete coldness. Most likely that meant she wasn’t very attracted to him. She was doing all this to be a Good Samaritan. Of course, he had no intentions of trying anything.
Chapter 6
Soon sleep overcame him when he was sure he was safe. She was turned to the door and most likely a light sleeper from all her years on the street.
He thought somehow once he could get his memory back, he hoped to show her how grateful he was.
He wasn't sure when he'd fallen asleep, but he was positive when he awoke. He was more cognizant of the sounds around him rather than what he was seeing.
Maybe it was the painkiller he had taken or the head injury, but he opened his eyes slowly upon hearing water splashing and saw a woman running a sponge up her naked muscled calf on her smooth milk chocolate skin. The sponge continued up to thick thighs, wide hips, into a small waist and then up her arms, to her neck and disappeared around to the front.
A goddess. No... what he was looking at was more beautiful than a goddess.
She started to dress in unattractive clothes again, but they were clean. Quickly, he closed his eyes as he realized the beauty he was staring at was the same homeless woman who had rescued him because she had not taken off that ugly black cap.
Thirty? Uneducated? Down and out? What the hell was he thinking? He didn't know himself, but he was positive he wouldn’t go for a woman like her. No man sane enough would.
She laid back down and curled her back to him.
He couldn't sleep though. Not after the image of her nakedness in his head.
Who the hell was she?
Two hours later he was asking the same question, wide awake.
* * *
Jona opened her eyes and felt a lot better. It wasn't that she was sick. Most of everything that was wrong with her had to do with exhaustion and just the uneasiness of the stranger’s presence. Her other problems would go away with just rest, which she wasn’t getting like she was supposed to because of the stranger. Waiting until he was sound asleep again made her feel comfortable enough to take off all the clothes she had on her body for the past two days.
It felt glorious to take a sponge bath and put on clean clothes. She had taken her time, consumed with just washing all the dirt off of her body. Just because she lived on the street, she didn't have to smell like it, although she purposely made sure her coat was never clean, but she always left the coat outside of the fort because of the smell.
Now that she was up, she stretched out her back and then remembered that she wasn't alone.
Quickly turning around, her eyes scanned the makeshift fort for him and she jumped to her feet realizing he wasn't here.
The clothes he had stripped from his body yesterday were lying down on the ground as if someone had rifled through them - Even the pockets of the pants were turned out.
Going outside of the fort, she looked around frantically and when she didn't see him, she started up the basement steps to the side door.
The items she had put on the door were moved away and she knew he had to have come this way, or someone had come this way and taken him. Had someone been watching her?
Shaking her head, she pushed her mother's paranoia out of her head and
tried to think logically.
This was the first time she had really ever worried about someone and she had reason. He had a head injury and he oblivious was not used to this type of life or knew of the dangers the street could do to him.
He could have had some type of seizure and gone into shock right in the middle of the street. No one would know who he was and Jona wouldn't know where he was.
Opening the door, she looked down to see the fresh snow had footsteps only leading away from the door towards the backyard. She broke into a run just imagining his body sprawled in the alley face down in a puddle or even worse someone had hit him. Just as she rounded the corner to the old broken down garage, she bumped into what she thought was a brick wall, which had seemed to jump out of nowhere.
Falling back hard from the impact on her butt, the breath was literally knocked out of her body and her backside screamed in pain.
"Are you okay?" James asked standing above her.
She shook her head to stop herself from passing out from being knocked to the ground.
Wearing in the shabby clothes, he still looked damn handsome. His beautiful green eyes looked down at her sparkling in deep concern.
The bump to him did not even affect him and he even held his strong hand out to help her up.
She refused his help and got up on her own. "Why did you leave?!" she hissed angrily, taking her current worry out on him.
"I found some money in the cuff of my pants and thought to help with something to eat."
She saw the large bag of food from a restaurant and her stomach growled from not having a hot cooked meal in so long. “Get in the house," she snapped, pointing to the home.
He walked past her looking just a little confused.
Waiting a few moments before following him to regain her wits about her, she stormed behind him and put the barricade up while she ordered him to the fort.
When she came into the fort, she realized how cold she was and how stupid it was for her to go outside without a coat.
"Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?" she demanded to know.
"You were sleeping hard. Snoring like a drunk and I didn't have the heart to bother you. I thought-"
"You thought wrong."
Hope Is Love Page 4