by Allie York
I shake my head. “No, but I’ll be fine.” I paid no attention to the two men when they questioned me in the park, I was too embarrassed, but now I can focus a little more. They both look like the boy next door in their late twenties, one about three inches taller than the other.
They’re currently wearing matching expressions telling me they don’t believe that I’ll be fine at all.
“Where’s Collins?” The taller one finally asks.
“Home. I assume,” I answer. “It’s fine. As long as no one is in there, I’ll be okay.” The snow is coming down so thick that I can’t see more than about a foot in front of me and I can’t feel my toes.
“You’re not telling your man that you got robbed?” The shorter officer looks at me like I’m crazy.
I shake my head. “He’s not—” I’m cut off by the other officers coming out and declaring that the place is empty. I’m so ready to lock the doors behind me and crawl under my Gryffindor blanket. I don’t even know if I’ll have to close tomorrow or not.
“You need to come in and give us a list of what’s missing.” One of the other officers motions me into the building and I walk after them, watching my footing as I go. The parking lot is slick with snow and it’s coming down fast enough that we’ll have a thick cover by morning. As soon as I step inside, warmth and the overwhelming sense of being violated slams into me. Tears fill my eyes. I blindly reach over to turn on the lights and nearly collapse when I see the mess in front of me.
10
Wyatt
By the time I wake up Pops and tell him I need to leave then drive to Words for Nerds, it’s three in the morning. The old man is a gift, seriously. I hate that I won’t be there to take Cruze to school in the morning, but something this serious needs my attention. I know Pops has it covered and is more than happy to do it. The snow picks up more the further I drive, making it too hard to see, but I know the way pretty well and no one else will be out at this time of night. I swing into the lot and park right up front. A cruiser is still parked crooked in front of the pet store next door and all the lights are on in the comic shop. I look down at my gray sweats and running shoes. Maybe I should have tried a little harder on my outfit, but my EHPD t-shirt was already on and I just tossed on the closest sweats. Hopefully she doesn’t mind too much. I leave a trail of footprints in the snow from the car to the door and tap my shoes lightly against the glass to knock the snow off before opening it and stepping in. As soon as I arrive Officers Mendes and Jones give me a nod and leave. Professional courtesy says when a significant other is involved, we get a call. She may not be my other, but she is significant, so I’m glad I got the call. The scene I come into is heartbreaking. Noralee sitting in the middle of the floor, separating and stacking comics, looking defeated. The store is a wreck, like they just went through and knocked everything off the shelves. I hear the cruiser outside start and Noralee jumps, her eyes jumping to me. As soon as her gray eyes meet mine, her bottom lip trembles and tears spill over her lashes. I wordlessly walk over to where she’s encircled by comics and reach for her hand. She puts her hand in mine and I haul her to her feet. Noralee melts into me and I hold her while she cries.
“Lock the door and go to bed, I’ll go with you.” I hug her tighter and whisper in her hair.
“What about your son?” She sniffles.
“All covered. You want me to stay with you? I promise to behave and not be all inappropriate. Even if I want to be.” I say and she lets out a little laugh.
“Okay, come on, you need to sleep.” I urge her to let me go, but she hangs on to the back of the hoodie I threw on, face buried in my chest. The tears come again in full force.
“I have to open tomorrow!” Noralee cries against me. “The computers are gone, all the books are… they’re all over, my whole cash register is gone. How am I going to open the shop?” My heart breaks for her and, honestly, I barely know her. We’ve met a few times, had one amazing date, and I already feel so connected to her.
“Hey, listen.” I take her face in both of my hands and make her look up at me. “All of that can be done after some sleep. Is the lock broken?” She shrugs. “Okay, finish this part and I’ll lock up. You need some sleep.” With a reluctant nod, she moves away from me and starts stacking the comics out of the way. I head for the door and check the lock. It’s been pried open but will still lock. It’ll hold until a locksmith can get it fixed. I lock it and wait for her to stand up before turning the lights off.
“You’re going to pull a Noralee and fall.” She laughs and I can see her coming toward me in the form of a shadowy figure. Her hand curls around my fingers and I’m led past the front desk to a hidden set of stairs. She gives a cut out of Katniss a salute before pulling me up the stairs. The stairway is short and narrow to the point that I have to dip my head and turn to the side to fit through.
“I thought you didn’t live in an attic,” I comment. She opens the door to the coolest apartment I’ve ever seen. The kitchen is just inside the door to the right and the living room is to the left. The massive TV is surrounded by a couch, an oversized chair, and a cluster of bean bags. The kitchen is decorated in red and a golden yellow. All of the cabinet and drawer knobs have the Hogwarts crest on them. A narrow, short hall leads to two other doors.
“It’s not an attic. I told you that.” Noralee waves her arm around as if to show me around and I suddenly realize that I’m in her personal space, her inner sanctum. I stand awkwardly by the door and take in the space. The high ceilings are lined with tapestries and flags that hang down to create a bohemian effect. Noralee vanishes behind a door and I hear the water running. After a few minutes she comes out, toothbrush hanging out of her mouth, and goes in the other door.
“Are you okay with this? I can go.” I feel awkward as hell being in her apartment.
She pokes her head out of the other room and glares at me. “I ought avoot to avy a gnome.” I laugh, she groans, and goes back into the bathroom.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. I don’t speak toothbrush,” I call down the hall to her, turning to look around the kitchen. Her hand extends from the bathroom, middle finger in the air. I laugh harder.
“I said I don’t want to stay alone. Right now, I’m just trying to keep from crying and somehow, the idea of not staying alone tonight helps with that.” She comes out of the bathroom wearing baggy pants with Tinkerbell all over them and a shirt that says, ‘I’m so fly, I Neverland.’ I chuckle. It’s literally the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
“Understood. So, it’s just me being awkward.” I note how comfortable she seems with me being in her space.
“Just you, officer. Want the tour?” Noralee gestures me toward the back two rooms. I follow. The hall is only about four strides long but is papered from floor to ceiling in old horror movie posters and photos. Not as recent as the Halloween franchise, I mean OLD horror movies. Tons of Vincent Price and Christopher Lee. She waves toward the bathroom.
“Whoa.” I push the door to see in farther. It’s a half bath with a vintage Marvel theme. Old comic print is on the shower curtain, the bathmat, the toilet seat, and in frames on the walls. Directly over the toilet is a framed photo of Stan Lee, signed. I lean in to look closer, trying to decide if it’s a print or the real deal.
“It’s real.” She crosses her arms and leans against the door frame.
“Well shit!” I reach for the frame.
“Do not touch that!” My hand is jerked away from the frame when she grabs my other arm and pulls. Out in the hall we end up face to face in front of the last door. “Okay. You cannot make fun of me.” She looks me in the eyes.
“I promise.” I have no idea whether or not I’m lying, but I am intrigued.
“Okay, here we go.” She pushes the door open and flicks on the light. I blink to let my eyes adjust to the dim light. It’s a large, open room spanning the length of the living room and kitchen combined. Colored lanterns hang from brass chains in clusters in each corner and
all the furniture is hand painted with amazing detail. The two dressers and closet door make a fairyland. Literally. Little fairy silhouettes are on every surface with flowers and mushrooms and trees. It’s not childish though. The King bed in the center of the room is a four poster with navy and purple all over. Each pillowcase has stars, suns, and constellations that match the sheets and blankets piled in disarray.
“Your attic is kinda badass,” I comment, still looking around and finding detail in everything.
“I wanted something different, so I made it.” She shrugs and reaches for a pillow. “Come on. I know you’re tired.” I look back at her room one more time before she closes the door. It’s like every little girl’s dream room, but all grown up.
In the living room, she starts turning off lights and points to a rack by the door. Her shoes are lined up neatly, so I toe mine off and add them to the rows. She moves the piles of blankets and pillows until the black futon is uncovered. The heap on the floor is almost waist high and includes mostly Harry Potter blankets and small square pillows. She puts the pillow from her bed on one end and drapes the navy blanket over the whole thing. Noralee steps back and does her best Vanna White to show me my bed.
“If you get cold, there’s plenty of blankets.” She gestures at the pile on the floor.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I promise. “Are you okay with this, really?”
She shifts from foot to foot, looking at the makeshift bed she prepared for me. “I…” Her eyes meet mine. “It scared me to death tonight. I was standing right there in the parking lot. What if they saw me? What if they know I saw them and come back?” She fiddles with the hem of her t-shirt.
“So, you aren’t thrilled about me staying but want me to anyway?” I suggest with a joking tone.
“I figured you’d end up here eventually if our second date goes as well as the first one.” Noralee shrugs. “I mean, we couldn’t take the party back to your place with a kid there, right?” She smirks at me and winks.
“Well…” I take a step toward her. “My kid sleeps through just about everything.” I take another step and I’m so close she has to look up at me. “And Pops is nearly deaf.” One last step and I reach out to rest a hand on her hip. “So, my place isn’t off limits. Eventually.” Do I want to sleep with her right now? Absolutely. Am I going to try any time soon? No way in hell. I can see myself developing a lot of feelings for Noralee and I’m not going to ruin the best first date I’ve ever had by sleeping with her. Not yet at least.
She steps into me so I can run my hand from her hip to her lower back. “Maybe eventually that would be nice.” She places her hands on my chest and slides them up to my neck, kneading the muscle there lightly. I can’t wait any more and lean down to kiss her. It’s late and we’re both tired, so I make it quick and sweet, but damn do I want more.
“Go get some sleep. I’ll be out here if you need me,” I promise, softly kissing her one more time. She stands on her toes to meet my lips and quickly backs away. My hands fall from her body and I miss the connection instantly.
“Goodnight, Officer Collins.” She backs away from me, turning off the kitchen and living room lights as she goes.
“Goodnight, Noralee,” I answer, walking over to settle on the couch.
“That’s Miss Reynolds to you,” she calls from the end of the hall and that light goes out as well.
“I’m sleeping here, so I get first name rights,” I retort, lying back and resting my head on her pillow. I roll up my sweats and remove my ankle holster, placing it on the trunk serving as a coffee table. The odds of needing to use it in this town are slim to none, but after what happened tonight, I’m taking all necessary precautions. I never hear her door close after she goes to her room, but honestly, I’m so tired that I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.
Sleeping in a new place with new sounds and new smells always makes me have weird dreams and the little sleep I get in the very early morning on Noralee’s couch is no different. I’m jolted awake by the sound of screaming. It’s muffled and coming from her bedroom. In my exhausted stupor, I roll off the futon with a thud and grab for my gun. Voices are murmuring over the screaming and yelling. I take the gun in both hands and walk barefoot and soundlessly down the hall toward the bedroom. I shove open the door, gun ready, and point it directly at the TV. Some woman is shrieking on the TV while other people with British accents shout over her. I lower my hands and let out a long breath. Of course, it’s the fucking TV. What else would it be? I relax my shoulders and watch the red-haired girl with two men get in a police box from way back and start flying through a… portal… of some kind. I set the gun down on the dresser serving as a TV stand and lower myself on the bed gently. I have no idea what time it is, but I stay totally engrossed in a show called Doctor Who for three episodes. I watch sitting at the end of the bed until I feel Noralee stir behind me and snap out of my daze. She doesn’t wake up, only rolls over and drapes an arm over her eyes with a loud snore. I stare at her during the next episode’s opening. Her black hair is fanned out on the light purple pillow and her lips are parted slightly. She looks beautiful. I watch her until the episode starts and turn back to the TV. I knew the TV in her room was nice when she gave me the tour, but watching a police box (that I learned is called a TARDIS) fly through time and space makes me realize that this TV must have cost a fortune. The definition and clarity are amazing. It’s also about twice the size of the TV in my living room at home. I fall back into another episode and find myself doing something I have never done before, asking questions about a fictional world. Why does he have a police box? Why are these humans with him? And why is the TV on while she’s trying to sleep?
“TARDIS means time and relative dimension is space.” Noralee mumbles behind me and I jump.
“What?” I spin to look at her.
“You were mumbling.” She holds up a finger for me to wait, and yawns. “He said TARDIS, you asked what it means.” Noralee tucks a pillow under her arm for support and rolls to watch the show.
“What else did I mumble?” I lean back a little, resting on my elbows, and she reaches over with one finger and brushes it along my ear. I shudder.
“You asked what planet he was from and why two humans follow him into danger.” I slide back a little and she tugs my shirt to pull me back even more. I lean the rest of the way back and put my head on the same pillow she’s spooning.
“Ah, sorry I woke you up.” I relax and pull my legs onto the bed. She starts explaining the show. Apparently, the Doctor is over nine hundred, but looks twenty-five. His appearance can change, and humans follow him around, so he isn’t lonely. I listen to her point out different characters and how their story lines fit together while we watch, and she plays with my hair. For two more episodes I listen to her. I start to zone out while she talks, almost to the point of sleep when her hand in my hair stops and she sits up, making me jerk.
“Is that a gun?” she points past my head to where I placed my gun on the dresser.
“Yes,” I answer.
“Why is it here? Where did it come from?” She sounds a little panicked, so I turn to look at her.
“I got a call at one in the morning that my ‘woman’ had been robbed and was shaken up.” I use air quotes around woman. “So, I put on pants, grabbed my gun, and came over here. I heard the TV and I wasn’t awake yet, so I came in here ready to do what was necessary to protect you.” It sounds so stupid when I say it out loud.
“I have two issues with that,” Noralee holds up a finger, “One: You weren’t wearing pants? Two: Should you be carrying a gun around in my apartment half asleep?”
“I was in bed, so no, no pants.” Before I go on, she interrupts me.
“Wait, I need the full visual here, boxers or briefs?” She tries so hard to look serious.
“Neither.” I smirk, and she gets quiet, her face turning red. “And maybe bringing the gun in the bedroom to shoot the TV was a bad idea, but I’m not running on m
uch sleep and it freaked me out.” I shrug.
“I have gathered a lot of information in this talk.” She taps her chin thoughtfully. “Never wake you up when you have a gun within reach. And you sleep naked, so wake you up as long as there isn’t a gun within reach.” A mischievous grin graces her lips and I lean in to kiss her.
“That is great deductive reasoning,” I confirm. “I think we should go out again next week, but maybe with no cops involved, and no tears.” I kiss her again.
“I have to stay for speed dating next week.” She turns her head and I kiss her cheek. “But maybe after?”
“Sounds like a plan,” I kiss her one more time. “Let’s go get ready and deal with the mess downstairs. I have to go home eventually but want to help before I go. I’ll look at the camera footage, too. I know it was dark, but you never know, it could have picked up something. And I want you to walk me through it again, too.” I notice the worry on her face and reach to cup her cheek.
“Okay, let me get dressed and do something with my hair.” This time she kisses me. “Thanks for staying. I don’t think I would have slept if I was alone.”
“Of course, I have to protect my ‘woman’ after all.” I make sure my tone lets her know that I’m joking. She rolls her eyes and shoves at me to get out. I stand, stretch, and grab my gun while she watches, making sure my shirt rides up just a little. Call me shameless, but I want her to see what I work so hard for.
“Go!” Noralee yells at me once she stops ogling my abs.
11
Noralee
After putting on my favorite black leggings and an oversized Marvel hoodie, I wrangle my curls into a ball on top of my head and put on just enough makeup in an attempt to cover my dark circles. I’ll have to let everyone know we aren’t going to be open and get in touch with all of my hung-over friends to let them know they can stay home. Then there is all the cleaning to be done. I need to assess the damage, discount any bent or torn books, and try to find replacement computers that aren’t going to cost me a fortune. I struggle not to get overwhelmed while I make my coffee in my favorite Peter Pan thermos. Wyatt is not in the apartment, so I head down the stairs to find him. I assume he’s assessing the store in the light which is exactly what I need to do. I check the time on the coffee pot. It’s nine in the morning which means I’m running on practically no sleep and I have to let everyone know within the next few minutes that we will not be opening at ten.