Street Safe

by W. Lynn Chantale

  Street blew out a breath. “This is hard enough as it is. I was told I may never have children, something to do with my exposure to some heavy metals or whatnot during the fire.” He waited for her condemnation or worse, her ridicule at him being less than a man. He’d heard it all before, but he could’t bear to hear it from her.

  For a long moment she studied him.

  He resisted the urge to fidget beneath her careful scrutiny. Why didn’t she say something?

  “But the doctors didn’t say it was an impossibility?”

  He opened his mouth to correct her and stopped. Had they said it would be impossible or just difficult? Hope leapt within his heart. He’d have to find out for sure. He met her gaze, expecting to read triumph or even smugness, but all he saw was understanding.

  “Why didn’t you tell me that in the beginning?”

  “Because I wasn’t supposed to feel this way about you.”

  There it was again, that look of total admiration and trust. He shifted uncomfortably on the bed. She really needed to stop looking at him like that. He rubbed his thigh, appreciative that it wasn’t throbbing and aching.

  “I didn’t expect you to be happy about the baby, but I didn’t expect the reaction I did get,” she said. “But I do understand.”

  He inclined his head. “Thank you.”

  “So what do we do now?”

  “You need to get some rest.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t go back to sleep. All I see is darkness.”

  He caressed the curve of her cheek. “Just lay down. Are you still nauseous? I can run downstairs and grab ginger ale.”

  “No.” A faint smile tipped her lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life. They just beat him, Rue. I can’t get the sound or smell out of my head.” She studied the rumpled bedspread, wrapping her arms around her legs and drawing them to her chest. “I didn’t want to die.”

  He laid a hand over hers. “You survived, sweetheart.”

  She rested her cheek on her knees and looked him in the eye. “What if they find me?”

  “Then I’ll have to show them the error of their ways.”

  Chapter Twelve

  A single red rose lay on her pillow when she opened her eyes. Na’arah smiled and brought the flower to her nose. Maybe he wasn’t all salt and vinegar.

  “I was hoping you’d sleep more than an hour.” Street lounged against the doorframe. He carried a wicker breakfast tray.

  She sat up, pushing her hair from her face. “Thanks for staying up with me. I know you have a job to do and...”

  “It’s not a problem.” He settled the tray over her lap. “That thing? You did with my leg? Thank you.”

  Such vulnerability clung to his light brown eyes that she felt an answering tug at her heart. He’d held her all through the night.

  “You were in pain.” She shrugged and studied the tray. He’d made oatmeal and toast. A small bowl of chopped fresh fruit with apples, grapes and strawberries also tempted her appetite. No one ever made her breakfast in bed. “This is wonderful.”

  “I did a little research on the Internet and read that if you have something on your stomach morning sickness isn’t as bad. Oh and I didn’t put any butter on the oatmeal or toast. I read that the oils can nauseate you too.”

  She grinned. For someone who didn’t think he could father a child he sure did a lot of reading. She picked up her fork and speared a chunk of apple. The slightly tart flavor exploded on her tongue and slid down her throat. Never had anything tasted so good.

  Street eased onto the bed. “Would you like to go to the movies later?”

  She paused, fork in midair.

  “It would have to be a matinee. I have to work this afternoon.”

  “I’d like that.”

  ****

  For once Street didn’t think about the reasons that brought Na’arah to him, but concentrated on her. She was funny and witty and just as interesting as she was the first time he met her..

  He studied her profile as she seemed absorbed in the film. He’d told her things he hadn’t told anyone else and she still looked at him like he was everything. How could she do that after all this time? Hell, he hadn’t even remembered her name when she first walked into the bar.

  So here they were on their second official date. He twined his fingers with hers. She glanced at him and flashed a quick smile. That one tiny gesture spoke volumes, sent his heart into overdrive and made him feel invincible.

  She rested her head on his shoulder and he shifted so he could bring her closer. He was consumed by a sense of belonging. Somehow, in a short amount of time this woman had wound her way into his heart, or maybe she’d never left and he’d been looking for her all along.

  “I’ll be right back,” she whispered and shoved the bucket of popcorn at him.

  He half rose from his chair. “What do you need?”

  She shook her head. “I’m perfectly capable of going to the bathroom by myself.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not supposed to let you outta my sight.”

  “There’s no sense in both of us missing the movie. I’ll be fine.”

  Before he could raise another protest she slipped from the row and disappeared into the dark. He shouldn’t worry, but anything could happen. Street labored to his feet and maneuvered the shallow risers. A sense of urgency propelled him from the theater and into the hall.

  A muffled shriek and a flash of movement snagged his attention. He hurried down the corridor to his left in time to see Na’arah being dragged toward an exit.

  “Hey!” he shouted.

  The masked man paused long enough to lock gazes with him. A flicker of recognition clouded the man’s eyes and Na’arah took a swipe at the man. He then shoved Na’arah toward Street and escaped through the exit.

  Street closed his arms around Na’arah as they toppled to the floor. They lay there panting. She trembled in his embrace and he stroked her hair.

  “You’re okay now.”

  Her head brushed his chest while she squeezed him a little harder.

  “I’ve got you sweetheart.”

  “I didn’t even make it to the bathroom.”

  He untangled his limbs from her and helped her sit up. He smoothed her hair from her face and cupped her cheek. Carefully he looked her over, but other than a few tears, she didn’t have any bruises. He pulled her close, needing the assurance that she was real and safe.

  “He came out of nowhere,” she mumbled against his shoulder.

  “Did he say anything?”

  “Nothing.”

  Street stood and tugged her to her feet. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  She nodded. “I scratched him.” For a moment she clung to him, and her eyes implored him. “What do they want from me? I don’t even know what they look like.”

  He clasped her to him, inhaling her sweet scent and trying to infuse as much comfort as he could into his embrace. The first time he was out and he failed to keep her safe. He held her tighter. She squirmed.

  “You’re crushing me,” she squeaked out.

  “Sorry.” He chuckled, loosened his grip but did not release her. “Let’s get out of here.”

  By the time they reported the near abduction to management and the local police and returned Na’arah to his apartment above the bar, Street was late for his shift.

  Miles sat in his usual spot at the counter. Seeing the lawman as if he didn’t have a care in the world irritated him.

  “Why haven’t you found anything?” Street demanded.

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Is there something you want to talk about?”

  “Some idiot tried to drag her out of the movies.” He pinned Miles with a hard look. “You need to do more.”

  “What more would you like me to do? You know how these things work. It takes time to process the evidence.” Miles sipped his coffee. “Did either one of you get a good look at the perp?”

  Street wiped down the bar to dispel some
of his anger. “He was wearing a ski mask.” He paused. “There was something familiar about him though.” He resumed cleaning the countertop. That was the one point he kept worrying. The man recognized him, but Street couldn’t figure out who it was.

  Thankfully Na’arah was safe and she didn’t blame him. Too bad he couldn’t forgive himself for the mistake. Since she’d walked back into his life it seemed like someone else’s life, but knowing Na’arah would be waiting for him settled a missing piece in his heart. For the first time in years, he felt whole, but he needed to know if the baby she was carrying was his.

  That one small detail just would not let him rest. After being told he could not have a family and Na’arah ended up pregnant...well, he didn’t want to get his hopes up, even though he was warming to the idea of being a father.

  “I don’t know how much longer she can prowl around or I can keep her safe.”

  “You getting on Arah’s nerves already?”

  Street frowned. “Why do you call her that?”

  “Call her what?” Miles grabbed a handful of nuts and popped them in his mouth.

  Derrick slid onto a stool. “What’s up?”

  Street looked over the newcomer. “What happened to your head?”

  He grinned. “You forget already? Your girl beaned me.”

  Miles studied him and narrowed his eyes. “That looks like you’ve been scratched.”

  Derrick touched his temple and shrugged. “How ‘bout a drink? I’ve had a rough day giving carriage rides to snotty tourists.”

  Street and Miles exchanged looks, then he shrugged and Street picked up a bottle of Scotch.

  “Where is Arah?”

  “I left her in my apartment, but her sister is stopping by later.” Street muttered. “You need to stop calling her that.”

  Miles chuckled. “Didn’t I tell you not to let her out of your sight?”

  “Here.” He snapped a Scotch in front of Derrick and topped off the coffee.

  Both men eyeballed their drinks. “Coffee?”

  “No double?”

  Street glared at Miles. “You have a murderer to catch and you,” he glanced at Derrick, “are already tipsy.”

  Miles eyed Street a moment. “What’s really going on?”

  Street froze. “Nothing.” From the corner of his eye a patron waved from the end of the bar. “Duty calls.”

  The last thing he wanted to discuss was his love life or lack thereof.

  “I signed you up for the race,” Derrick called after his fleeing back.

  Street rolled his eyes and continued down the counter. Meddling friends. He took the order and returned with two beer bottles. Beau approached the bar, offered a head nod to the men seated and waited for his order.

  “When is Arah supposed to arrive?” Miles said when Street returned.

  He glanced at his watch. “Any minute now. What’s up?” Street opened two more bottles of beer and stuck a lime wedge into the opening of each.

  “She called in the 911 a couple months back when Auggie got jumped. I want to see if she saw anything.”

  Derrick choked on his drink and coughed.

  Beau stumbled, nearly spilling his tray. He cast a nervous glance over his shoulder, stilling the bottles before continuing on.

  “Watch where you’re going!” Miles muttered.

  “She what?” Street mopped up the droplets and handed Derrick a glass of water.

  Miles checked his shirt, then dusted off a piece of lint. “Yeah. Didn’t find out until last night. I think the two are related.”

  Derrick continued to cough.

  “What’s up with your manager. He’s been real twitchy lately?” Miles whacked Derrick on the back and the other man slid off the stool.

  “I’ll be back.” Derrick managed between spasms and headed toward the restrooms at the rear of the building.

  “Haven’t a clue, but he works his shift, the till balances and he doesn’t water down my top shelf product.”

  “Well, what’s going on with Derrick?”

  Street stared after his friend and shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s been acting a little strange ever since my uncle died.”

  Miles sipped his coffee. “God, I hope he’s not gambling again. I don’t think I can go through another intervention.”

  A heavy sigh left Street’s lips. He hoped not. The last time his friend was in debt to a bookie it took both he and Miles to get him out of the bookie’s bad graces. If Derrick was in trouble this time, well...

  “I honestly don’t know, Miles. Although no one has come looking for him.”

  “Ya think he’s going to the meetings?”

  Street nodded.

  “Well, I guess that’s all we can ask for.” Miles swiveled in his chair. “Good crowd tonight.”

  “Yeah. The festivities are always a good draw.” Street pulled the handle for light beer and filled a chilled Pilsner glass. He set that and a pitcher of margaritas on the counter for Beau to pick up. “And a good place for any unsavory characters to hang out.”

  Miles chuckled. “You know you’ll spot them.” He raised his mug to his lips, then lowered the cup again. “Looks like Arah made it.”

  Street fastened his gaze on the door. Sure enough Na’arah walked in wearing a red hoodie and hip hugging jeans. His pulse quickened while heat simmered through his veins and pooled in his crotch. She laughed at something a younger woman said behind here, before lifting her hand in a quick wave. No matter how many times he’d seen her in the past few days she always managed to take his breath away.

  “Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?”

  Street tore his focus back to Miles. “As soon as you stop calling her ‘Arah.‘” He topped off the coffee. “Why do you call her that?”

  Miles shrugged. “Habit.”

  “Well, stop it.”

  He met icy resolve. “You do realize you’re overreacting to a nickname.”

  “Shut up.” Street washed and dried his hands. “The funeral is tomorrow morning.”

  “I’ll be there. Let Arah know we’ll release the shop back to her by the end of the week.” Miles sipped his coffee. “Has she said anything else to you?”

  “Like what?”

  “Anything at all.”

  Street paused, debating whether or not to tell him. “She’s pregnant.”

  Coffee spewed onto the counter top and dribbled down the front of Miles’ once pristine shirt.

  A smirk tugged at the corners of Street’s mouth. “I take it that’s not what you had in mind.”

  “So you got caught up, huh?” Miles coughed. “Happens to the best of us.”

  “Damn condom broke,” Street muttered. “Just keep it between us. I don’t think she’s told anyone else yet. I don’t know what to do. First this and Auggie.” He ran a hand over his head. “Find something so she can have some peace of mind. I don’t think she’s slept more than a couple hours since arriving.”

  Miles leaned forward. “Maybe she should talk to someone.”

  “You tell her that and see where it gets you.”

  “There’s something else.” Miles looked around. “Someone has been watching her place and the spa.”

  A ripple of unease went through Street. “Are you sure about that?”

  Miles grimaced. “This is a small town. One of the neighbors called in to report a suspicious vehicle outside her home the last two nights. Are you sure she hasn’t said anything?”

  “Not a thing.” Movement caught the corner of his eye. Na’arah was waving to him. “I’ll be right back.”

  ****

  “I don’t see why you’re staying with him. You could just as easily stay with me.” Zee huffed and folded her arms across her chest. “What can he do that I can’t?’

  Na’arah lifted a brow. “Seriously?”

  Her sister blushed. “I didn’t mean it like that, but I can see your point.”

  “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” She covered Zee’s h
and. “You’re my favorite sister.”

  “I’m your only sister and I worry about you. Especially when I hear dead people turn up in your shop.”

  Na’arah frowned. “Yeah. I don’t know if I can go back in there.”

  “Are you kidding?” Zee widened her eyes. “You could charge admission. The Old Mill in Dundee does a paranormal thing on the weekends. You could do the same thing at the spa.”

  “You’ve watched too many ghost shows.” Na’arah smiled when a warm hand gripped her shoulder. She tilted her head back and stared into light brown eyes. “You remember my sister, Zee?” Na’arah waited while pleasantries were exchanged.

  “I must say, you made Abby’s bachelorette party the best.” Zee flicked her gaze over him. “We stared at you all night.”

  “Zee, really.” Na’arah admonished.

  Her sister tsked and returned her attention to Street. “So this shacking up you’re doin’ with my sister.”

  “Zee!”

  Street laughed. “People still call it that?”

  “What are your intentions? Are they honorable? Or do I need to prepare for a duel?” She fixed him with a calculating gleam.

  Na’arah shook her head. Of all the times her little sister decided to get over-protective she chose now? She peeked at Street and he seemed amused by the challenge.

  “My intentions are always honorable and I will do my best to make your sister happy.”

  The sincerity in his voice touched her heart and sent warm fuzzies shivering through her veins.

  “You better. I’d hate to mess up such a handsome face.”

  Street inclined his head. “So noted.”

  Zee stood. “Good. Now if you’ll excuse I see a hottie I’d like to dance with.”

  He waited until Zee walked away before he slid into the vacant chair. Concern creased his brows. “Are you okay?”

  Na’arah smiled. “I am.”

  Street swept a gentle thumb down the curve of her cheek. “Maybe you should go upstairs. I know you haven’t been sleeping.”

  She shook her head. “Not right now.”

  “Miles needs to talk to you again.”

  “I don’t have anything else to tell him about that night or this afternoon.”

  “How about the night Auggie was attacked?”