See Something? Say Something.
Had that been a coincidence seeing that sign? Or a cosmic clue?
Fuck. It wouldn’t hurt just to check the couple out, make sure the woman was fine.
Retreating a handful of steps, I glanced down the alley again. I probably didn't make the most inconspicuous of figures, sliding up to the edge of the alley and gazing around the corner like some great ninny with his duffel bag over one shoulder. Don't call me a peeping Merrick or anything, but see something, say something was a great idea. Still, I kind of didn't want to cock block strangers if I'd misread the situation.
However, the guy had the woman pinned with the wall, a hand around her throat and he seemed to tower over her. Granted, they were silhouettes amidst the shadows. Even cars in the distance seemed louder than any sound coming from the alley. Indecision bound me in place.
They were right outside a bar. They could be going for an alley quickie. She could be a prostitute and this was how she planned to pay her rent. Interrupting would be rude, particularly when I didn't have any cash on me to make it up to her if I scared off the john.
Dammit. Now I felt like a peeping Tom. Still, I lingered and when the man in the alley started lifting her up by the throat, I forgot all about my objections. The last time I checked, that wasn't a safe kinky sex practice. He would kill her or at least do her serious bodily harm.
My body moved before my brain fully processed what I would do when I got there. The guy towered over her, but I wasn't a small man. Still, I never thought of myself as a fighter. Right up until she hit him and he backhanded her. Though he let go of her throat—a good thing—she bounced off the side of the building and the rest of me saw red.
I slammed into him, fists flying. It was like every other part of my brain turned off, except for the part that said get him the hell away from her. My knuckles split with every blow I landed. The man staggered under my weight. While he seemed like a behemoth from afar, the collision of my fists with his face almost seemed to bring him down to normal proportions.
A distant part of my brain just observed the action. I was not a violent person. Not self-described or even diagnosed by anyone else. My time in the sanitarium had been more about my overwhelming need to please, and inappropriate attachments to people after a painfully short acquaintance. This? This wasn't like me.
And yet, I didn't stop. Each time I considered pulling back, the image of her being hoisted above him by one arm flashed across my mind's eye. He'd hurt her and if it was a kink thing, then she wouldn't have been fighting to get free, right?
Something wet splashed against my face and the hot spray of it jolted me out of the madness. My breath exploded out of me in harsh pants and I glanced from the bloody mess of the man below me to the woman who stared at me with a stunned expression.
The shadows softened her features, caressing them like a lover, and I swore she seemed more a part of them than our world. Holy fuck, she was beautiful.
And I saved her.
"It's okay," I reassured her. "I'll keep you safe."
Wow, the adrenaline pumping through my body was giving me such a high. I’d never been a hero before. It was like the universe bestowed this woman on me and I was her guardian angel. I almost started bouncing on the balls of my feet, but shit, that might scare her.
“What the fuck did you just do?” She sneered down at the man, kicking his upper ribs with the sharp point of her high heeled shoe. His body jolted, but only from the force of the hit. “He’s dead.” Her mouth formed into a perfect pout, and I wanted to kiss it. Take it away.
Then what she said registered. Dead?
Forcing my attention away from her, I glanced down at the man. His face was hardly recognizable. There was so much blood, but...it looked slightly concave.
Had I done that? Lifting my hands to catch as much murky light from the street as I could, I winced at the blood speckled forearms and heavier coating on my knuckles and fingers.
I should probably get a blood screening done. If I’d opened any scrapes on my hands, I didn’t want to catch anything from that filth.
That could come later, my first priority was this beauty. She could be scared, shaken up. Maybe even hurt.
“We should call the police, have an ambulance look at you.” Swiping my hands down my pants to remove as much blood as I could, I stepped closer, stretching a hand out to move her hair from her neck. I hoped this filthy animal hadn’t bruised her.
“No cops. I’m fine.” Her words were clipped, but the throaty tone made my cock twitch. That wasn’t the voice of an angel, more like an avenging temptress here to sing me to my death.
I loved it.
“Why are you grinning?” She barked at me.
I started to cover my mouth with my hand, but dropped it when the drying blood caught my eye. The stain was too fresh and I hadn’t gotten it all off. She was my responsibility now, and I didn’t want to scare her. Or traumatize her anymore.
“Sorry. Let me see your neck, I want to make sure you’re okay,” I said, injecting as much trust me vibes as I could. That was actually pretty good. All I had to do was mimic every therapist I’d seen throughout my life.
When my fingers were scant inches from touching the lovely column of her throat, she slapped my hand down. “Back the fuck up. You know what? I didn’t do this. I’m golden. Have fun when the cops get here.” Spinning on her heels, she waved over her shoulder as she hustled toward the street, the quick tap, tap, of her heels echoing down the alley.
“Wait!” I yelled after her. Shit, my duffle. It had skidded off to the side, thankfully out of the blood spatter trajectory. Once I had grabbed it, I ran after her.
Never stopping, she cast a slightly threatening look over her shoulder. “What now?”
“I need to make sure you get home safe.” I scanned the street, making sure there were no other predators lurking in the shadows.
Shock registered in her expression. Granted, I'd been raised in a household with a very strict adherence to the rules. Things like opening doors for other people—not just ladies, but definitely for ladies; escorting those younger or weaker than you to their door; making sure the people around you were safe; were all things I was raised to always do.
Nothing would make me happier than keeping this beauty safe. I double-checked my hands. No blood. There was some on my shirt, but I could probably pull a jacket over that. The sun had rapidly begun its descent, so that would be helpful, right?
Although with the sun going down, so was the temperature. Something her shiver reminded me of as she gave herself a little shake then stared at my outstretched hand. "Are you for real?"
The question bounced off me. Honestly, who could fault her? There were people at the sanatorium who talked to and about hallucinations. I'd overheard a number of fascinating one-sided conversations. Almost made me wish I could hear the other side of it.
Since she stopped, I narrowed the distance, then pinched her. I tried to keep it gentle but a sting was better. She slapped at my hand again and stared at me. The acrobatic maneuvers playing out in her expression had me leaning closer. Despite the sunset, the lights in the alley all seemed conspicuously out, so the shadows just threatened to swallow her.
"Did you just pinch me?" Disbelief etched into every single syllable.
"You wanted to know if I was for real." I flashed her a reassuring smile or what I hoped was one. "You can pinch me, if you want to help me do a reality check."