“You think I don’t know that?” I still had my arm cradled to my chest, and it was still throbbing badly. “But a guy can fantasize.”
“Let’s get our meals boxed and then head over to the hospital.” Emerson walked back into the noodle place, but I lingered outside, looking down the street, although Gabe was no longer in sight.
I sighed heavily. “What a man.”
Gabe had left his card, and even after a doctor patched me up, I planned on using that card. I just had to think of a good enough excuse to call him.
* * * *
For two days since the incident outside the noodle restaurant and after I’d gone to the hospital—my arm was now in a sling because my elbow had been bruised, not broken, thank fuck—I felt as if I was being watched.
I hadn’t seen any suspicious-looking people, but the hairs on my neck were constantly on end. It was just that spooky feeling that came over someone, some kind of intuition.
Of course, I could be totally full of shit and just being paranoid after what had happened the other night. I have been known to be flaky at times.
Make fun of me all you want, but everyone was a bit flaky in one aspect or another. Like my Uncle Glen, who always wore a tinfoil hat because he was convinced the government was listening to his thoughts or my mom who refused to leave an electronic footprint because she thought being online would involve her in some government conspiracy.
Come to think of it, my family had a huge paranoia of the government. Why hadn’t I realized that before now?
But I wasn’t like them. I was normal. I didn’t think Big Brother was out to get me, but someone was following me.
Maybe.
Fuck, I wasn’t sure, but I quickly made my way to Emerson’s apartment, unwilling to take any chances. My paranoia had to stem from that car trying to run Gabe over.
Now I was damn near trotting down the street, making my steps quick as I shoved a hand into my jacket pocket. A bus rumbled by, stopping at the bus shelter to pick passengers up and to drop off a few. When the bus passed, I noticed a guy across the street. He just stood there, staring my way.
It could’ve been nothing, or it could’ve been the guy I thought was following me. My suspicions were confirmed when he dipped his head in a nod as one side of his mouth curved upward. That smirk sent chills down my spine, even if the stranger was gorgeous. The guy had on a leather jacket, jeans, and boots, and a patch of brown hair fell over one eye.
Shit. I quickly looked away and nearly ran into someone. I should’ve never gotten involved, but what was I supposed to have done, let Gabe get run over?
I had also lied that night. I had seen the car, seen that it was a dark burgundy color and the first three letters of the license plate had been FCA. I remembered that because the first thing that had popped into my head was Fucking Careless Asshole.
When I looked back across the street, the stranger was gone. I had only two blocks to go before I reached Emerson’s apartment, but now I felt like I was in a race for my life.
Only I wasn’t racing because, I had to face the fact, I was out of shape and moving any faster than I already was had a stich working across my side.
Whoever it was would just have to kill me because I needed to slow down. I couldn’t keep up the pace. Now I was not only paranoid but sweating and in dire need of something to drink to help with my dry throat.
I seriously needed to lay off the fast food. It might’ve been delicious and cheap, but it played havoc with my body. Then again, I’d always been a pudgy kid, and that hadn’t changed throughout my adult life. The only real skinny person in the family was Emerson.
Good genes from his father’s side.
I rounded the corner and came up short. Three guys were hanging in front of a dry cleaner shop, blocking the sidewalk. I tried to move around them, but the biggest of the three stepped in front of me.
“What’s the hurry?” He had a toothpick hanging from his mouth, unkind brown eyes, and he had to be at least five inches taller than me, because he blocked out the sun that had been half blinding me. He looked me over like he was considering making me his next sexual meal.
Gross. Gag. He wasn’t even cute. He had a bulbous nose, no upper lip, and when he smiled, I saw he had gapped teeth. That might’ve looked cute for some people, but not him. His hair stuck up in odd spikes that went in every direction. Had he purposely done that to his hair? Who in their right mind would style it that way?
“Excuse me,” I said. “I’m in a bit of a hurry.”
“I asked what the rush is.” He pulled the toothpick out and tossed it aside. I hated litterbugs.
“Technically you asked what’s the hurry.” I curled my lips in. I shouldn’t have said that. He already looked like a big, dumb oaf. I was willing to bet he had more pride than brains and wouldn’t like being corrected.
The other two guys laughed, and Toothpick narrowed his eyes. I really hated the east side, but I lived with my parents and had no other choice. I would kill to live on the west side of town, where houses were nice and the neighborhood didn’t have idiots like this hanging out and harassing people.
Once again I tried to step around Toothpick, but he grabbed my upper arm—thankfully my good arm and not the one in a sling—and stopped me from walking past him.
“You think you’re better than me, smarter?” His voice was a deep growl that said I was in trouble if I didn’t smooth over this situation.
I opened my mouth, ready to tell this jerk anything he wanted to hear, when a sleek black car pulled to the curb. My heart thundered, and I feared it was my gorgeous stalker coming after me.
“I have to go.” I tried tugging my arm free, but Toothpick had a tight grip. I wouldn’t have been above biting him if I had to in order to get away. What Toothpick planned on doing to me would be mild in comparison to what Stalker probably had in store for me.
I wasn’t sure, but why stick around to find out? I was a certified chicken heart and had run from many fights that proved that. Too bad I couldn’t run from this one, but jackass wouldn’t let me go.
The back door of the car opened, and I wanted to piss myself. I was willing to bet that someone from the Malkovich gang was there to make sure I never spoke to anyone about the other night.
I was so screwed.
But it wasn’t a thug.
Gabe? What on earth was he doing here? He stepped out of the backseat in a crisp dark suit and damn if he didn’t look like a million bucks.
He narrowed his light brown eyes as he glared at Toothpick. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Just having a bit of fun, Mr. Rothe.”
They knew each other? I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or ten times more terrified. Gabe stepped onto the sidewalk in his highly polished shoes while buttoning his jacket.
“Let him go.”
Toothpick instantly released me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize he belonged to you.”
I didn’t belong to anyone but was wise enough to keep my trap shut. I knew I should’ve kept my ass at home. Now I had no clue what was going on or how this would play out.
My instinct was to run, but I wasn’t sure I would get far. I should’ve called Emerson and had him pick me up, but it was a nice day and I’d wanted to walk. That was what I got for trying to exercise. It would’ve been healthier for Emerson to come get me.