She swallowed hard, breaking eye contact. “Doesn’t matter,” she said, her voice thick with sadness as she shook her hair back over the wound. “I would have had worse if you hadn’t butted in. I should go,” she said with a shrug as her arms wrapped around her waist.
I tried not to laugh at her spitfire attitude and her equal lack of sympathy.
“I think you’re in shock.”
“I’m fine.” Her voice was void of emotion, but her face looked terrified. “Nothing shocks me anymore. I was just worried he was…”
“What? Who’d you think he was?”
“Nothing. Nobody.” She shook her head. “That Dream Killer special aired again last night and I think it just stuck in my head. I’m fine.”
“Damn it. Let me help you. Drop the fucking tough guy act.”
Her body froze, aside from a slight tremor. I took a deep breath as I struggled to calm down.
I bit back my frustration. “Let me help you. I can…call someone.”
Sad green eyes met mine, and my chest tightened. I watched her expression go from confusion to appreciation. She had slipped a mask in place, one very much like the one I wore daily.
“You already have.” She glanced toward the man on the ground. “Th-thank you. You’ve done enough.” With that she began walking toward the main road, her heeled sandals against gravel the only sound I could hear over my own hammering heart. It was like a painful flashback into my past, but the pain felt better than the emptiness that proceeded this moment. If it weren’t for the adrenaline rush from a good fight, I’d scarcely know I was alive.
I needed to get the fuck out of there, but I couldn’t walk away. I had done that before, and it had destroyed my life. At least that’s the reasoning I told myself as I jogged after her and grabbed her arm lightly. She pulled free, flinching as if she thought she was going to be hit. I took a step back immediately.
“Don’t go.”
“I swear I won’t tell anyone. I promise. I can take care of myself.” Her words ran together. It dawned on me that she thought I was worried about leaving a witness, or maybe it just seemed that way because it was a real concern.
“Christ, I’m not going to hurt you, and if you could take care of yourself, I wouldn’t have had to save you back there.” It was a low blow for a girl so prideful, but I liked the look of fire in her eyes.
“Save me?” She glanced toward the man and back at me. “I’m not the one who needs saving.”
“The world would be better off without him. Who is he? A boyfriend? Your pimp?” I asked as I looked to her hands that still held my shirt clutched against her chest. Her fingers trembled. There was no wedding ring, and she looked like she was just barely legal. When my eyes met hers again, they were narrowed, and she looked like she was ready to kick my ass. It would have been cute had I not just put myself on the line for her, but I couldn’t hide my smirk.
“No, he wasn’t my pimp,” she spat angrily. “I guess I should consider myself lucky you chose this alley for your drug deals, but I think it’s time for you to go back to your glass house.” Her eyes were wide with anger. “Ride away on your snake, Morrison.”
I held back a laugh at her Doors reference and her awkward attempt to insult me. “That wasn’t”—my voice trailed off as I searched for a way to explain myself, but words failed me—“I wasn’t trying to offend you, and what you saw isn’t what it looks like.”
“I’d love to hear you talk your way out of all of that, but I don’t want to be here when he wakes up.”
“He’s not waking up anytime soon, and he won’t touch you. I won’t let him.”
“Thank you, my junkie savior, but this hooker has some place she needs to be.”
I sighed, my tongue running over the cut inside my lip. “Can I walk you to your corner?”
Her murderous glare made me laugh as she turned and stormed off down the alley, stumbling in her heeled sandals but recovering quickly.
I began walking in the same direction and soon was at her side as she stopped to adjust her shoe.
“Stalking me now?”
“Someone’s conceited.” I ran my fingers over my hair. “I was actually going this way.”
“Oh really? Have another batch of meth to score?” She glared at me, but I saw her eyes glance down over my chest.
“Hostility is not a very attractive quality.”
“Neither is sexual harassment.” She began to walk faster, but I stayed only a step behind.
“If I were sexually harassing you, you’d know it.”