Street Safe

by W. Lynn Chantale

“You’d already left and I didn’t think you would mind if I indulge in a little massage therapy of my own.”

  Na’arah folded her arms and tapped her foot.

  “Laying in a hospital bed with only male or elderly nurses just is not a good get well practice.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “It will never happen again.”

  She spun on her heel and stalked to the main showroom. “I’m sure it will. You have absolutely no regard for anyone but yourself and your...needs.”

  “Are you saying you saw me and Trecie?”

  She skidded to a halt. “Trecie!”

  Auggie grinned. “Yeah, you thought I was still with your sister? Is that why you’re all bent out of shape?”

  Na’arah hung her head. “No. Street saw you and thought it was me.”

  “Damn. I thought that’s why he was upset. No wonder he won’t serve me a drink.” He shook his head. “Hey. I’ll give him a call and smooth things over.”

  Na’arah shrugged. Auggie disappeared into the back room as the chime trilled over the main entrance. She stifled a groan. Her patience was being tested yet again.

  “What do you want?”

  Kyle flashed a wide toothy smile, placed his hands on the counter and leaned close. His shirt sleeve lifted far enough to reveal an oversized watch. “You look fabulous.”

  Na’arah pulled her smock a little closer, knowing it was little shielding from his lascivious stare.

  “Are you here alone?” He craned his neck trying to see in the back room. “Maybe we can go in the back and have a private session.” He winked. “We were rudely interrupted the last time.”

  She resisted the urge to deck him. A firm hand grasped her shoulder and Kyle’s eyes widened. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks, that Auggie decided to drop in.

  “I heard what you did, Kyle.” Auggie came around the counter.

  “So?” The other man tossed an insolent look in Auggie’s direction.

  Tension crackled between the two men. Na’arah stepped away from the counter. She expected some anger, but the animosity between the two was almost palpable.

  “What do you want?”

  “My last check.”

  “Gladly.” She entered the office.

  “Did you really think you could pull some mess like that and I not say anything?” Auggie demanded.

  “Anytime you wanna rematch, let me know.”

  Na’arah paused in sifting through an overflowing desk tray for Kyle’s paycheck and strained to catch every word of the conversation in the other room.

  “You better watch your back, boy,” Auggie said as she returned to the front.

  She tossed the envelope on the counter, not wanting to give Kyle an excuse to touch her. “That’s everything you’re owed. I don’t want to see you in my shop again.”

  Kyle picked up the check and saluted her with it. “Anything for you, pretty lady.”

  Na’arah held her breath, counting each step until he left the spa.

  “I’m really sorry, Arah, I never meant for any of this to happen.”

  Her shoulders sagged as she exhaled. “You know what, Auggie, I don’t want any more apologies right now.”

  He skimmed a hand up and down her arm. “I’ll see what I can do to make this right.”

  “Please don’t do me any more favors.”

  He nodded and left the shop. She crossed the aged wood floors and twisted the lock. It was time to go home anyway. To an empty apartment and an equally empty bed. Yeah, just how she wanted to spend the rest of her evening.

  ****

  “So what made you decide to come help me today?” Zee asked a few days later. Both she and Na’arah were on their knees, soapy sponges in hand, applying a little elbow grease to a stubborn water stain.

  Na’arah huffed and scrubbed harder. “You asked for help.” She couldn’t quite keep the bite from her voice.

  “Uh huh.”

  She was aware of Zee’s scrutiny, but ignored it and dipped her sponge in the bucket of warm water.

  “So how did your date go?”

  “It didn’t.” Na’arah flung the sponge down and stood, brushing a tendril of hair from her face. “Don’t look at me like that,” she said when her sister smirked.

  Zee carefully removed the smile from her lips. Only her eyes held any indication of amusement. “I told you he wasn’t worth your time.”

  She opened her mouth to speak then closed it again. She really should’ve listened to Zee, but she’d really liked Rue. Her shoulders sagged. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “Wait. What?” Zee scrambled to her feet. “You can’t be serious.”

  Na’arah spun on her heel and crossed to the large window on her right. Bright light streamed through the glass. She frowned and rubbed at a water spot.

  “C’mon. You spent the night with this guy. You never do that. Never.” Worry edged into her voice. “What happened?”

  She shook her head. “Auggie.”

  “Auggie?” Zee blinked. “What does he have to do with you and the bartender?”

  “Rue saw Auggie bumping pelvises in one of the massage rooms...”

  “And thought it was you.”

  She nodded. “Thing is, he won’t even hear me out.”

  When Zee wrapped her arms around her sister and squeezed. Na’arah returned the affection. “You want I should go have a talk with him?”

  A small smile creased her lips. “No, he might end up with a scratch or something.”

  “Damn right,” she muttered.

  “That’s what bothers me the most. He didn’t even want to hear that it wasn’t me, almost as if he expected me to sleep with Auggie.” She shuddered. “He’s not even my type.”

  “No, you’re drawn to the roughneck, tragic guy with a sob story and from what I’ve heard, your bartender definitely has a tearjerker.”

  She faced the other woman. “I really like this guy.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  They fell silent and eventually went back to washing walls.

  “I don’t care what you call it, I’m not doing this anymore.”

  The women exchanged looks and stood.

  “You’re up to this to your eyeballs. Where do you think you’re gonna go?”

  Zee went to one window and peeked out, while Na’arah went to the other. She didn’t see anyone in the yard. Neither male voice sounded familiar to her.

  “See anyone?”

  Zee shook her head. “They’re probably out behind the old kitchen.”

  “You saw what happened to Auggie? The same thing can happen to you.”

  Footsteps stomped across the wooden porch a moment before the screen door banged open. An audible snick drew Na’arah’s attention to the blade in her sister’s hand. She frowned.

  “I thought you got rid of that thing?” she whispered.

  “Not a chance.”

  Together they crept to the top of the stairs and peered over the banister. The top of a dark head came into view, before it disappeared. The screen slammed again.

  “Zemira!”

  This time the voice was unmistakable and Zee groaned. She quickly closed the switchblade and shoved it in Na’arah’s back pocket.

  “Zemira!”

  “Really?” Na’arah said, arranging her top so the knife bulge wouldn’t show.

  Zee rolled her eyes. “Up here, Sheriff.”

  Mumbled pleasantries were exchanged downstairs before a heavy tread mounted the wooden stairs. The top of curly black hair came into view, then a set of broad shoulders.

  “You missed our appointment,” Miles said without preamble.

  “You ordered me to be here. I can’t be in two places at once.”

  He nodded. “Instead I have to come looking for you.”

  “I’ll be outside.” Na’arah brushed past Miles and smothered a grin when her sister tossed her a pleading look. “If all else fails, put him to work washing walls.”

  She bounded down t
he steep stairs and burst through the screen door onto the porch, inhaling the crisp evening air. The odor of mildew and the citrus cleaning solution they were using clung to her clothes. Leaning against the rail, she gazed into the yard. Every now and then a word or two drifted down to her. Those two really did need a room, but thinking about Zee’s love life only made Na’arah think about her lack of one.

  A couple strolled by hand in hand and wistfulness descended around her shoulders like an old friend. There was something between her and Street. Even now she wanted to see him, touch him, be held by him.

  She shook her head. A second chance had been given, but apparently he didn’t feel she deserved one. Why had she even bothered, she’d done nothing wrong. She straightened and stepped off the porch.

  The little bit of cleaning she’d done had helped her mood. She ambled toward her car, dragging her fingers through her hair. Was a decent relationship too much to ask for? She blew out a breath. How could she have been so wrong about Street?

  Na’arah rested her hands on the roof of the vehicle. The metal, still warm from the afternoon sun, provided the perfect place to drum her nails while she gazed toward the river. Traffic rumbled past and the shrill whistle of a train added to the chirps and buzz of wildlife. A soft smile creased her lips. She liked her little town, that’s why she bought the spa. She wanted to set down some roots, but goodness, only one man piqued her fancy.

  Lost in thought, she barely registered a twig snapping behind her. She turned and was seized by the shoulders. Before she could draw a breath to scream a hand was clamped over her mouth while a heavy forearm curved around her throat.

  She clawed at the hand on her mouth as the blood roared in her ears. She twisted against the arm at her throat, but it tightened, endangering her air supply. The edges of her vision dimmed.

  “Where is it?” the raspy voice whispered in her ear.

  She shook her head and mumbled a reply. She jabbed an elbow in her assailant’s ribs. His hold loosened enough and she let out a scream before the arm at her throat choked it off.

  The screen door screeched and was lost in the squeal of tires. “Hey!”

  A muffled curse reached her ears and she was shoved forward. Strong arms caught her, while footsteps pounded on the earth behind her. Na’arah dragged greedy gulps of air into her lungs. Crisp, clean masculinity surrounded her and she clutched the arms holding her upright.

  “You’re okay,” Street said. “You’re okay.”

  She sagged against him as he folded her in his safe embrace and nodded against his chest. Safe. He made her feel safe.

  With gentle fingers Street smoothed her hair from her face, his eyes searched hers. “What happened?”

  “I-I don’t know. I was standing by my car and the next thing then somebody grabbed me from behind.”

  The screen creaked again and Zee burst out the house, fire in her eyes. “Get your filthy hands off my sister!”

  Na’arah shifted to stand in front of Street. She knew her sister wouldn’t hesitate to do some sort of harm to the man at her back.

  “Zee. Calm down. He helped.”

  “I think he’s helped enough,” she snapped.

  Miles hurried around the house. “I lost him at the train tracks.” He panted. “Did you get a look at him?”

  Na’arah shook her head.

  “What did he want?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

  Street smoothed her hair from her face. When she lifted her head back to meet his gaze, desire simmered in honey brown eyes before it slid from view. Her heart stuttered, he still felt something even if he wasn’t willing to admit it.

  She stepped back and his arms were slow in releasing her.

  Miles drifted his gaze over her. “Did he say anything?”

  Na’arah chewed her bottom lip. Even though she’d stepped away, Street rested a hand on her shoulder. The contact was comforting.

  “He asked, ‘where is it?’”

  “Where is what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Zee shuffled her feet, moved closer to Na’arah and nudged her shoulder. “You okay, sis?”

  She nodded.

  “What are you doing here, Street?” Miles said.

  “I needed a break from the bar and thought I’d deliver their order.” He reached in the back of his SUV and removed a box, several paper bags peeked over the top.

  Miles studied them a moment. “Yeah. Sure.” He looked at Na’arah. “Be more careful and I’ll keep an eye out for the guy, but I didn’t get much of a look at him.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, I will.”

  “Will you make sure she gets home okay, Street?”

  “That isn’t necessary,” she spoke up. “Zee and I rode together.”

  “Her sister can see her home.” Street’s voice was gruff.

  Zee grabbed her sister by the elbow and led her back in the house. “I swear, that man needs to be slapped.” She shoved Na’arah in a chair and looked her over from the top of her disheveled ponytail to her holey jeans. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine, although I think you pulled my arm out the socket when you hauled me in here.”

  “It was the only way to get you away from that despicable man.”

  Na’arah watched her sister a moment. Zee ran a hand over her head, dislodging the white bandana holding her hair from her face. Her quick footsteps took her from one end of the kitchen to the other and a frown adorned her pretty face.

  “What’s going on, Zee?”

  “Promise me you’ll stay away from the bartender and Auggie.” She swung around and faced her sister, imploring her with her eyes.

  Apprehension gripped her stomach. “Zee?”

  Her sister chewed her thumbnail. “I think I know what the guy was looking for.”

  She sat forward. “Well why didn’t you tell Miles?”

  “Because the bartender was there and I don’t know if he knows.”

  Now she was thoroughly intrigued. “Know what?”

  “About the chest we found.”

  Chapter Eight

  Na’arah huffed and continued to pace the floor. “How much longer before you’re here, Zee?” Na’arah paused in front of the window and stared down into the street below. A few cars stilled lined the curb on both sides of the road. With a sigh she stepped away from the window and glanced around her apartment. The muted peach and almond brown accents did little to soothe her irritation. Her sister was late picking her up to the movies. And speaking of late...Na’arah padded down the hall.

  The last two months had been uneventful. Ever since that day at Hack House when some guy attacked her and her sister dropped that bombshell on her, she hadn’t had time to go out. Missing Street hadn’t changed, but work had taken over her life, dulling the ache of loneliness. With some of the changes she’d recently implemented in the spa, business was booming and continuing to make the venture a profitable success was the bane of her existence.

  Despite the shop being across the street from the bar, she’d hadn’t a chance to see Street again. Not since he’d come to her rescue. He still attended his sessions with Auggie, but never when she was scheduled to be on the premises. That was fine with her, but his lack of communication hurt nonetheless.

  Hoping for some sort of reconciliation, she’d left a message or two for him at the bar, wishing he’d listen to an explanation, but nothing. Part of her longed to be in his bed one more time, yet she knew it was an impossibility. Somehow she had to move on even though her heart was reluctant to do so.

  And now Zee was late.

  Na’arah shrugged out her jacket and tossed it on the bed. “Are you here?”

  “Not yet. So when am I getting my shoes back?” Zee said.

  “Never.”

  “I told you I’d pay for the dry cleaning.”

  Na’arah paused with her hand on the bathroom door knob, the bracelet glinting in the overhead light. That was another thing. Auggie said
she could keep the bracelet. She fingered one of the charms, an odd shaped key that was a little bigger than the other charms. At least he’d been kind enough to send her flowers and make sure she was okay after the incident, not that she was the one who needed comforting.

  He’d also been a wealth of information when it came to local lore and one of the town’s biggest scandals, Hack House.

  She paused, staring out the window. The restored stick style Victorian rose majestically against the late afternoon sun. She often toured the old home, examining the intricate patterns on the embossed steam heat radiators and ceilings.

  “Are you still there?” Zee’s voice sliced through her thoughts.

  “Never ever ask me to hang out with you and your friends again.”

  “You gotta admit you had a good time.”

  “Did you forget I had to pry you off some guy?”

  “I have a vague recollection of kissing some gorgeous hottie who knew how to use his lips.”

  Na’arah switched on the bathroom light. “Really Zee, the guy was like fifty and just as drunk as you.”

  “I know. That’s what makes it so much fun.”

  She rolled eyes and tucked a curl behind her ear. “Hopeless. Just hopeless.”

  “Um Arah? About our girls’ night out,” Zee began.

  Na’arah heaved a sigh. “If you’re not here in ten minutes you can forget about the movie.”

  “Well, Darla and Vonda are meeting us and we want you to drive us again.”

  “No. Absolutely not!” She refused to play chauffeur to her sister and her friends.

  “C’mon Arah,” Zee was saying, actually more like whining. “It’s not like you have anything to do tonight. I’m just askin’ for a couple of extra hours and it’s the kickoff for the Labor Day Celebration. I’m on the committee this year and it’s supposed to be a lot of fun. And there are some really hot eligible men participating.”

  Na’arah rolled her eyes and switched the phone to her other ear. Every year her hometown of Milan, MI held a race to pair off the unattached men and women. This year the town added a boat race to the festivities, along with a parade and horse drawn carriage rides. She sighed. The last thing she needed to do was chase some unsuspecting guy in a race and demand what? A date? Sex?

  Been there. Done that. And the guy still hadn’t called.