by A. D. McLain
“Yeah, he only has to deal with nuclear take-overs and global annihilation. You have Physics with Ms. Fortenberry. No contest.”
“Fun-ny.” Meg kicked out at Nicole, making them both laugh. “So, what happened?” Meg asked, after she’d managed to stop laughing.
“What do you mean?”
“Nicole, this is me you’re talking to. I know you too well. You’re drinking coffee, and you only do that when you’ve got something on your mind. Besides, I count a least three scrapes, and you’re not that clumsy.” Nicole stared down at her coffee cup. She’d known the scrapes would probably give her away, but she hadn’t even thought about the coffee. Meg was right, though, drinking coffee when she was preoccupied was a habit she’d picked up in Middle School. She’d started drinking it initially to stay awake after she’d had… the nightmare. The habit seemed to reemerge nowadays whenever something worried or intrigued her. Today, it was a little of both. “Yeah, you’re right. Something happened yesterday when I went to take the photos down by the river.”
“What happened?” Meg leaned across the table, interest visible in her pretty features.
Nicole took a breath and started talking, spewing out a stream of words. “I stumbled across Steagel trying to get rid of some toxins by the lake, so I took some photos, but I got caught. I got the scrapes when I was running away from Steagel and his cronies, because they’d heard my camera rewinding the film. I tripped over a tree root and fell and one guy caught up with me and he had a gun. Just when I was about to get shot, a wolf jumped out of the woods and knocked over the guy with the gun. I got lost again, and the wolf helped me find my way home. But that’s all over now. I gave the film to John, and he’s going to take care of things from here.”
Meg leaned back in the seat and whistled. “Wow! No wonder you’re drinking coffee.”
With a brief grin, Nicole leaned in, tapping her fingers against the side of her coffee cup. “I’ve been thinking about that black wolf. Don’t you think it’s weird; I’m about to become a statistic, when he just shows up out of nowhere?” She shook her head.
“Are you sure it was a wolf?” Meg asked and Nicole shot her a frustrated look. “Never mind, you’re the wolf expert.” She sighed and thought for a second. “Someone was definitely looking out for you. Hey, maybe the wolf was your spirit guide or something! You’ve always been obsessed with all things wolf related. It would make sense that a spirit guide would take a form that has meaning for you.”
“I did get a strange feeling when I looked in his eyes. It seemed as if I could completely trust him, like I knew him. And then he led me home, away from the other men who were chasing me. Do you really think he could be a spirit guide?”
Meg shrugged. “Anything’s possible. I mean, whatever way you want to look at it, you were being protected. I don’t know if it’s a spirit guide or even an angel, but someone was definitely watching over you.”
Nicole shuddered when a thought occurred to her. “If someone or something, supernatural or not, is looking out for me, I hope they keep doing it. If that guy got a good look at me…”
Meg reached across the table and took Nicole’s hands in her own, careful not to touch her scrapes. “Look, whether he did or not, you’ll end up on your feet. I’ve always said you have nine lives, and you’re nowhere near using them all up.”
“Meg,” she groaned, “you know I don’t like that cat analogy. It’s not even accurate.”
“Sure it is. You’re the luckiest person I know.”
“I don’t know if lucky is how I’d characterize it.”
“Nicole, remember the time a wrong number woke you up, just in time to make you aware of that gas leak you and Billy were sleeping through? And what about the time we accidentally got locked in that freezer when you wanted to go exploring?”
“Hey, it wasn’t just me,” Nicole replied defensively.
“True,” Meg conceded, “but we were in there for what had to be an hour when the door suddenly opened, with no sign of anyone releasing the catch. Now, you’re getting shot at and saved by a wolf. Sounds like par for the course to me. Anyway, let’s eat, I’m starved.”
Nicole laughed. Deep down, she was still worried about everything, but there was nothing she could do to change the situation, so she decided to concentrate on other things for now.
They ate lunch without broaching any serious subjects and Meg kept her entertained with a running commentary regarding students on campus. Nicole always found herself amazed by how much gossip Meg knew. How did she hear so much? No matter what the source, she always felt better after talking to Meg. She was a reminder that Nicole had a friend who would listen to her ramblings, and not judge her for trusting a strange wolf, and be concerned about her well being but respectful enough of Nicole not to be overbearing with well-meaning advice.
Nicole chuckled when Meg finished a story about the psych major who’d shown up to her drama class wearing fishnet stockings, diving flippers and goggles along with a feathered boa. No reason. Just because he wanted to. “Tell me you got pictures.”
“No,” Meg shook her head regretfully. “But someone else in class took pics with her phone, and she said she’d download the pictures and send them to everyone.”
“That’s great. They’ll make the perfect addition to your wall of shame.” Both girls grinned in agreement. Meg’s wall of shame had started out simply enough as just a few pictures taped to the wall beside her bed. It had since evolved into almost an entire wall full of pictures of them and their friends – and a few strangers – caught in a range of funny and memorable poses. Everything worth photographing which had happened in the last five years, since Nicole first got her camera, had been added to Meg’s wall. Nicole was responsible for about two thirds of the pictures on the wall, but once word spread to their friends and acquaintances, several pictures had been donated to the wall. There was even one picture of some guy neither of them had met, wearing nothing but a roll of yellow police tape. Pretty soon, Meg was going to have to move on to another wall… or buy a scrap book.
They lapsed into a comfortable silence while they waited for their bills, Nicole absentmindedly tapping her fork on the side of her plate and Meg glancing at her ‘to do’ list in her planner. Nicole was halfway through tapping out the latest car insurance jingle before she realized the song was stuck in her head again. Great. Just when she got the song out of her head, now she would be singing it all day. She rolled her eyes and forced herself to stop tapping. Just then, she noticed Meg tapping out the same beat with her fingers. “How long have you been thinking that jingle?” Nicole asked, suspiciously.
Meg looked up, momentarily confused until she realized what Nicole was referring to. “Oh, I don’t know. Pretty much all day, I guess. It got stuck in my head this morning, and I haven’t been able to get rid of it.” Nicole groaned. “Can’t you think of any better songs? Now you’ve got it stuck in my head, too.” Meg put her hands up defensively, but the gesture was belied by the teasing grin. “Hey, can I help it if you always seem to tap into my brain when I’m thinking of annoying songs? You should tune in when I get musicals going through my mind.”
Nicole gave her the, ‘and you’re telling me this because?’ look. “Okay, I’ll think of another song.” Meg was quiet for a moment, her teeth nibbling on her bottom lip. Then, a big grin broke out on her face. Instantly, Nicole could hear the chorus of “I need a Hero” going through her head. She sighed and rested heavily on her bent arms on the table. “What? I thought it would be appropriate,” Meg said with an innocent look on her face. Looking very proud of herself, Meg proceeded to tap out the new tune on the table.
In spite of herself, Nicole was humming along by the time the waitress walked up with their checks. The waitress picked up the rest of their dishes and left behind their bills. “I’ve got it,” Nicole said, picking up both bills.
“What? No, I’ve got mine covered,” Meg argued, digging around in her bag for her purse. “Besides, I k
now with all the expenses you’ve had lately, you can’t afford to keep doing things like this.”
Nicole sobered at the reminder of the funeral and the other expenses which the life insurance hadn’t quite covered. “I can afford what I want to afford. Besides this is my treat for you listening to all my crap. And I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”
“If you insist.” Meg’s lips curved in a mischievous grin. “But I just remembered I still owe you for the movie we went to last week, so here you go,” she said, passing Nicole a ten-dollar bill. Nicole rolled her eyes and gave an exaggerated sigh, but took the money.
They both stood to leave and headed for the exit. “So,” Meg slapped a hand down on Nicole’s shoulder. “These guys who are after you; you want I should beat any of them up for you?” she asked with a wicked grin and a twinkle in her eyes.
Nicole smiled back. “Sure, but only if I can help.”
Meg’s grin broke into a full-blown smile. “Oh, I do love it when you get all violent.” Her eyes sparkled brightly as she put emphasis on the last word.
“Just paying homage to the master,” Nicole said, indicating Meg with the gesture of her hand. Meg simply gave a little half bow and opened the door for them both.
With a higher spring in her step than before, Nicole headed home.
4
Nicole walked the couple of blocks back from the diner quickly. It was turning out to be a pretty good day, the sun was high in the sky, and there wasn’t a cloud to be seen. She sat down on the steps of the apartment building and forced herself to relax. She found that she wasn’t quite ready to go inside yet, it was a beautiful day, and she might as well enjoy it. She pulled a piece of candy from her bag and leaned over the rail to toss the wrapper in the alley trashcan. The lid was open, broken pieces of plumbing pipe sticking out the top. She smiled. Hopefully that meant the leak in her neighbor’s apartment was finally fixed, so she wouldn’t need to keep coming over to Nicole’s apartment to shower after step class on Thursdays.
Sitting back down, Nicole chewed on the candy and closed her eyes. A light breeze blew and tugged some strands of hair from her braid. She ignored them brushing across her face and listened to the birds singing in the trees. Their melodic voices filled the air, creating a peaceful atmosphere.
Approaching footsteps caught her attention, distracting her from the birdsong. Surveying the sidewalk she saw two men heading in her direction and mental alarms went off. One was dressed completely in leather, he had dark hair and a scar on his left cheek. The second man wore worn out blue jeans and a greasy, torn up shirt. He had sandy colored hair and a beard.
Nicole went to stand up, but the one in leather put on a sudden burst of speed and reached her before she could get into the building. Grabbing her wrist, he yanked her away from the steps and pushed her into the alley. The way the steps curled around, she knew she was virtually invisible to anyone passing by the building. The other man stood watch by the street.
Before she could make sense of what was happening, he had her braced up against the wall so she couldn’t move or defend herself. The smell of sweat and cheap cologne, mingled with cigarette smoke, filled her nostrils. She gagged against the oppressive smell, even as her pounding heartbeat started echoing in her ears. For a long moment, all that existed was the stench, the sound of her heart, and the pain.
Nicole flinched when he pushed her wrists against the wall behind her. The brick rubbed hard against her damaged skin, and his fingernails dug painfully into her arm.
The man revealed a knife, holding it up in front of her chest. “You’ve got to learn to mind your own business.” His hot, moist breath raised the hairs on the back of her neck and bile rose in her throat. All she could think about was the knife which was about to be plunged into her heart.
She watched as the knife stopped on its downward descent toward her chest, no more than an inch from her heart. She held her breath, her eyes focused on the deadly metal for a moment before she lifted her gaze.
Her attacker’s eyes had widened as he stared at the hand which was currently holding his arm. He strained against the grip, apparently unable to budge. He wasn’t the only one who seemed surprised.
Nicole stared up at the man who was now, literally, holding her life in his hand. She hadn’t seen or heard him approach, but here he was. “You’ve got to learn how to treat a lady,” the new man said in a low, intense voice. The timbre of his voice caused an entirely different type of shiver to run down her spine.
He was dressed in black, and didn’t seem to be that much older than herself. For a moment, Nicole found herself unable to take her eyes off him. She watched him as he bent back ‘leather man’s’ wrist until she heard a satisfying crack, and then he pulled the man’s arm behind his back in a very awkward position. The man screamed. Her mystery defender then pushed the perp into the trash bin.
Nicole pried her gaze away from the two men and turned her attention to the second perp, who was hurrying toward her. She glanced around for a way to defend herself and saw a piece of discarded pipe. Grabbing it, she hit the second perp in the stomach and then over his head. He collapsed to the ground for a moment or two before he scrambled to his feet, stumbling after the first attacker, who was limping, a knife protruding from his leg.
Nicole let the pipe slip from her hand onto the ground, and rubbed her wrists as she watched them escape. Her wrists were extremely sore after she’d been gripped with no small amount of force. Old and new cuts alike were covered in a mixture of blood, dirt and sweat.
“Are you okay?” the man in black asked. She turned toward him to respond, when she saw a nasty gash on his arm.
“You’re hurt!” she cried.
“It’s nothing.” He shrugged off the injury, his dark, disheveled hair falling across his face at the movement, but the pained expression in his blue-green eyes gave him away. Blood was dripping from his torn sleeve.
“Nothing? I’d hardly call that nothing. Why don’t you come with me, and I’ll clean up the wound and bandage it?” Reluctantly, he agreed, letting her lead him upstairs.
Nicole called the police while she rinsed off the worst of the blood and dirt from her hands. She decided she should clean the man’s injury first and filled a bowl with hot water, bringing it across to where he stood by the front door. “Sit down and roll up that sleeve.” She motioned to a chair and went to find the first aid kit and some clean rags.
“I don’t think rolling up my sleeve is going to work.”
He’d spoken from right behind, and her heart began to race. Once she was confident she could talk without her voice sounding shaky, she responded. “Oh?” Nicole looked closely at the sleeve and decided he was right. It probably wouldn’t make it past the middle of his forearm.
The coppery smell of blood filled her with a renewed sense of urgency and his sleeve was already slick with it. “Do you think you can take off the shirt without it hurting too badly, or do I need to cut the sleeve off?”
He smiled softly, seeming warmed by her concern over him feeling too much pain. “Don’t worry about it hurting, but are you sure you need me to do that?”
“If I’m going to clean it properly, yes.”
“Alright. But I might need a hand.”
“No problem.” She set down the first aid kit and rags and helped him remove his shirt. Slowly, she pulled the sleeve down over his injured arm, careful not to touch the gash. “There,” she announced triumphantly when she was done. She took the shirt and draped it over the sink, then picking up her materials, she led him back to the chair she’d motioned to earlier. “Now, let me look at that cut.”
Nicole leaned forward and studied the gash. It actually seemed a little better than it had when she’d first seen it outside. Maybe it was just the indoor lighting. It didn’t look as if it would need stitches, but it had certainly bled a lot.
She snatched up one of the rags, and it almost fell out of her hand when she first touched his arm. Just that small touch
sent shivers rippling down her spine. The hairs on her arms stood on end, and goose bumps covered her flesh. She managed, just barely, to keep her composure and continued to clean his wound. She needed to concentrate on the task at hand, she reminded herself. After all, he’d gotten injured while helping her.
Despite the warning she’d given herself, she kept finding herself glancing at his broad, bare chest, just inches away. How easy it would be, to reach over and touch it!
Very gently, she washed away the blood from the injury. There was a lot of it. To break the silence and take her mind off her close proximity to her mysterious rescuer, she started talking. “Thank, you, for what you did.” She laughed lightly looking up into his eyes. “I don’t even know your name.”
She dropped her gaze back to the injury. With most of the blood cleaned away, it looked even better. Still, the cut was pretty deep. He’d need to take good care of it to ensure it didn’t get infected.
He smiled. “My name is David Coverton.”
She looked at that smile and the man who was wearing it. He had deeply set, blue-green eyes and midnight black hair. Every intake of breath brought her eyes back to his muscular chest. There was no denying he was alluring. She suddenly realized she was staring and quickly began to get bandages out of the first aid box.
“David,” she repeated thoughtfully.
David took a deep breath. For some reason, his name sounded so much better the way she said it.
She spoke again, drawing him back to the conversation. “My name is Nicole Cameron. Here, put your arm up a little.” She started bandaging his arm, and he noticed she focused on the way his muscles flexed as he moved his arm. “So, what do you do Mr. Coverton? When you’re not rescuing people, that is?”
“You can call me David,” he responded, wanting to hear her say his name again, “and I keep myself busy. This and that.” He glanced around the room, searching for a way to distract himself from Nicole. What he saw surprised him even more than the way he was reacting to her.