Nefretiri
"Oh my god!" Covering my mouth, I rushed to the front of the stroller, dropping my headphones on the ground.
What did I do?!
How did I not see the truck? I'm so depleted my senses didn't register the cars in front of me. Everything lost focus, and my senses screamed like an alarm. The sun's light reflecting off the truck blinded me, and the heat was even more suffocating as I spun the stroller around. Penelope's screams scared me the worst. Was she hurt? Oh, gods! The stroller's pushed in!
How did I hit it so hard?
"It's okay, Pen-Pen. I'm so sorry…!" Tears fall, and my nerves shatter. This is the last straw, and I can't handle it. "You're okay. You're okay."
That's my only comfort. She's just startled by the impact, but it doesn't help me calm down. I could've hurt my child because of the magic I'd used, and now I'm facing potential debt I can't afford.
The truck must have damage if the stroller does, and $60 wouldn't be enough to cover the repairs. Part of me wants to turn and run, but it's taking what little strength I have not to fall to the ground.
This is not my day.
For the next few seconds, I hold my daughter as if she'll disappear, crying because I'm a mess and that's all I can do. My mind is frantic, but her presence is soothing, anchoring me back to reality. So, I take several deep breaths, trying to compose myself.
Someone opened their door, and now I have to face the owner. I doubt they'll listen if they see me shaking and trembling like this, and I need to see how bad the situation is.
'Oh! Thank whatever god's protecting us!' The truck has no dent!
"I'm so sorry!" Wiping my eyes, not caring if my mascara ran, I confronted the woman who had exited the passenger seat, rushing into my apology. "This is all my fault. I should've paid attention. There's no damage!"
"I don't care about the door," she sounded worried, not angry, which was a relief, but what do I do? People skills aren't my strong point anymore, especially with strangers who might start a fight. "Are you two hurt?"
"I'm okay," I lied as the driver got out. Something changed in the air, like the atmosphere drops, but in a good way. Still, I keep my head down, afraid of the consequences. "This is all my fault. I don't have any money right now, but if there's any damage, I'll pay for it."
"I don't care about that." My brain shuts down. His voice is rich like wine or chocolate, coming off more like a growl than anything else, and it does something to me. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah," I finally looked up. Surprised by the man in front of me. He looks like he's about to have a heart attack, and I have to fight the urge to step closer.
Was I so desperate for comfort that I'd take it from a stranger?
"Are you sure?" With a hand on my cheek, he scanned my face, then looked down, but I'm not uncomfortable. His touch sends sparks of electricity and cool waves across my skin. For a moment, I'm hypnotized by a man who belongs in a myth.
"I… didn't get hurt." Suddenly, I feel shy, knowing I need to pull away but not wanting to. Something about his touch calms my nerves, and the craziness in my head settles. I can think, and I realize how nuts I seem. "I'm really sorry. It's been a bad day. I really didn't mean to damage your truck."
"It's alright, Beautiful," his voice is almost a whisper as he comes closer, his thumb rubbing circles on my cheek. It's so good, but too intimate between strangers. "As long as you're okay. I don't care about a stupid door."
This is wrong.
I'm letting a stranger touch me as if it's nothing and enjoying it. Was I starving for attention? The answer was yes, and I'm torn between shame and desperation.
'This is wrong… but I need it.'
Feeling safe was something I'd forgotten. Ricky never touched me like this because it was spoiling me. How did I not realize how cruel that is?
'No…' I couldn't do this.
Stepping back, I forced some space between us. It hurts; the afternoon heat consumes me again. How did he stay so cool? The drastic change was unexpected, and I almost rushed back into him, but I couldn't.
The desire's pulling me like a puppet, and I don't want to fight the urge. That's terrifying.
"I'm sorry," he said, putting his hands up, showing me he meant no harm, but looking like he's the one who's hurting. "I just want to check you over… I saw you hit the stroller. Can I make sure you're not hurt?"
I didn't need his help, but I wanted to let him check. The stroller didn't give me my injuries; Ricky did. Now my body wants this stranger's comfort to ease that pain.
Nothing's ever recharged me like this. A drop of his energy pulled me back from the brink of collapse, but didn't that make it wrong to want him for that?
"I'm fine," I tried to smile, but it's awkward and fake. "I got scared more than anything."
We stand there in discomfort, no one knowing what to say.
Penelope settled down, trying to turn her head to look at the strangers. She's never been this curious about anyone, and it's odd for a newborn to be so alert. All I can do is chalk it up to her magic, which is reason enough to resolve this.
The stroller's in awful shape, and I can't imagine how I'll explain this to Ricky, but that's a problem for later. The damage only affected the front, so I'm able to secure Pen-Pen in, throwing the blanket over the broken bits to hide them.
"Here. Figured you need these…. And… I have a mirror," the woman handed me a few tissues and dug in her bag, pulling out a compact.
"Thanks," I take them, wiping my face. My makeup's ruined, but the tissues help, so I'm less of a raccoon. "I appreciate it."
"No problem…" Her smile stayed warm and genuine as she crouched in front of the stroller, avoiding the crushed part. "And what about you, sweet pea? Do we need to trade insurance to get you a new stroller? I think this one isn't good enough anymore. Yeah, how about we get you a better one?"
As pathetic as this sounds, her kindness made me cry again.
A beautiful woman who's nothing to my daughter wanted to take care of her in a way her father and his family refused to. Not to mention that she's gorgeous, which intimidates me.
This goes beyond my insecurities.
I've dealt with beautiful women for the last year, and I understand how dangerous they are. Yet, something about this woman doesn't give me that vibe. She's attractive with her long, dark, chocolate waves and soft oval face, but it's more than that.
Her radiant smile brightens your heart, and her eyes aren't masks of jealousy or hatred. I see kindness, mischief, and willpower behind those cocoa orbs. That doesn't stop me from having an inferiority complex because of her.
We are on two very different scales of looks.
Arms wrapped around me, sending waves of gentle warmth through me. It should've been stifling like the heat, but it's almost like a weighted blanket, comforting and safe.
Is… the guy hugging me?
He was, and I gave in to the desire to stay there, pushing away the noise in my head. It's wrong, but I needed this. Whatever it made me, I was where I needed to be, and the rest of the world melted away. Even the pain eased, my muscles shaking in relief. Would he catch me if I fell?
"I've got you." Even his whispers sounded powerful. He's the man you'd follow anywhere because you knew he'd get you home. I didn't know him, but if he told me everything would be alright, I'd believe him.
The sound of his heart beating blocked out every other noise, grounding me to the moment. Sadly, that brings everything into focus. This man is a stranger, and he held me as if we're more.
The yelling in my head turned off mute, and it's all I can hear. So, I pull away, but not enough to be out of his arms, giving me a chance to stare at him.
He's beautiful.
No one uses words like that to describe a man who isn't pretty, but that's not what I'd call him. It's more like masculine beauty, making him seem crafted and not born.
Someone took years to sculpt him to perfection, carving his sharp features, making him powerful but not forbidding. Every defined line of his face; his chin strong, covered in light scars on one side, giving him a rugged appearance that had my stomach doing flips.
Somehow, the imperfections make him more attractive.
His lips are impossible to ignore, tracing the thinner part down to his fuller lower one with my eyes. They call to me, tempting me to taste and find out if they're smooth like velvet, but I don't. So, I move past them and his refined straight nose, focusing on his eyes, and for a second, I'm startled.
They're ocean blue, just like Penelope's. It shouldn't be a big deal; lots of people have blue eyes, but they could be identical. He even has a hint of gray near the pupil, like she does.
'It's just a coincidence.'
It had to be.
"How old is she?" Glancing in our direction, the woman got my attention, and I took advantage to move away from my giant protector. He's really tall, definitely over six feet. That's already intimidating, but he's also built like a Norse Viking. "She's so tiny."
"A… week old," I don't know why I'm nervous about telling them that. Maybe it's the way the woman held Penelope's hands, or how my daughter stared at her like she already adored her. "She was born on the 13th."
"A week?" I jumped at the guy's anger, grateful I'm holding the stroller. "And you're alone? Walking in this heat?"
Why get angry about that?
"I don't have a car." There was no reason to explain, especially to strangers, but I needed to justify myself. "Groceries don't buy themselves."
"Someone should help you," he crossed his arms, glaring at me as if his word's law. Yet, his anger isn't for me. "We'll help you get what you need. We're going in anyway."
"No, there's no need." It was a kind offer, but the voices were giving me a headache. Ricky says I'm stressed, and that's why I hear someone talking to me, but I'm questioning if I'm crazy. "Thank you… for not chewing my head off about your door… I'm glad there wasn't any damage to it."
"I'd never chew your head off." What was that about? Why did he sound so hurt by what I'd said? He already had this haunted energy surrounding him, but when he looked like that, all I wanted to do was comfort him. "Besides, we're the ones who should compensate you. The stroller."
"There's no need. It's just a little dent." It wasn't, but I had to get inside. I was wasting time. "Sorry… Have a nice evening."
"Wait!" he grabbed the handle and stopped us from moving, the desperation exciting me. Why did I want him to stop me? "Please, let us help."
"No," something broke in me. I didn't just want his help; I needed it. The pain in my leg was flaring up again, along with feeling crushed as my ribs cried out. The healing spell was demanding more energy. I needed to eat again. "I've taken up enough of your time."
"Please," he sounded desperate, his sadness turning into torment. I felt like I was hurting him by saying no, like we were breaking up.
"We really don't mind," his companion came closer, looking me over with no judgment. "Even if it's just for some company. It must've been a terrible day."
"New baby," I lied, trying for a smile. "And… lack of sleep, my emotions are everywhere, and I had a C-section."
"Even more of a reason," it was as if the woman wanted to be my friend, but understood she was crossing a boundary between us.
"Hey pretty girl," my protector, and it was strange that I thought of him like that, now crouched in front of Penelope, taking her hands. Something strange crossed his face before he hid it, his smile softer and almost adoring. "You're so strong, aren't you? Hey, can you help me convince your mom to let us help you? She's a little stubborn. What do you think, Princess? Hey… what happened here…? Where did you get this, Princess?"
Oh gods! He was touching the scratch on her arm. The one Ricky gave her when he was grabbing me yesterday.
At least I hope it was an accident. It's bad enough he won't hold her. I don't know what to do if he's that willing to hurt her already.
I didn't know how to answer. Should I tell him it was a cat? Would he believe me?
Why was I trying to defend myself for something that wasn't his business? Why was I so scared?
"What happened to your mommy?" he asked Penelope, but I knew the question was for me. Did he see the bruises? They shouldn't be visible unless he was right on me, and he wasn't. "She has a bad ouchie on her shoulder, doesn't she? How did she get that? Can you tell me, Princess?"
"I have to go…" Swallowing, I pulled the stroller away, forcing him to let go.
It wasn't his questions that forced me to act. It was his eyes. His fucking blue eyes that changed to black!
Not just the iris, but the whites too!
He was a werewolf!
I crashed into werewolves!
I moved as fast as I could, dragging my poor headphones across the asphalt before pulling them up. He was calling for me, but I didn't turn back. No, I couldn't get near him, especially if he was a wolf.
Things would go from bad to worse, and I couldn't afford to pay the price.
So, I ran.
"Excuse me," I muttered, hurrying past a group of guys exiting the store.
I didn't even look up, finding safety inside the air-conditioned entrance.