Quicksilver Dreams (Dreamwalkers) (5 page)

“I’ll see you next week,” I offered, and he walked on with a parting shrug, like a you-can’t-blame-me-for-trying gesture.

“It hurts while I’m doing it, but I just feel great when I’m done.” The older woman came up to me with a wide-open smile. “Besides, with my new body, I was able to shop for lingerie for the first time in years. I got this really cute nightgown that I might wear tonight.” She was blushing like a schoolgirl, which was absolutely lovely to see.

“Ken’s the lucky guy?” I wiped the drips of sweat on my gym towel as they rolled down my temples and remembered how she’d mentioned this guy the last several weeks that I’d talked with her after class. It was funny that I knew her guy’s name, but not hers.

“Yeah. I’m going to cook for him tonight. I make the best pasta sauce, if I do say so myself. What about you? Rico’s handsome. Are you two going out tonight?”

“Naw, I’ve got work. The bills don’t pay themselves.”

“You work every weekend, honey. Don’t waste your youth. You only get it once.”

“Yeah, well, life gets complicated.”

“That it does. It can teach you things that aren’t healthy to learn, if you’re not careful. I know that one. I better go. I need to make a trip to the grocery store.”

It was an interesting way to leave things, and I was sure the cryptic comment was deliberately left to my interpretation, but critical thinking was not going to happen right after a hard-core workout. Still, her comment stuck with me as I walked all the way out to my car...and saw that the passenger-side window was smashed in.

“No,” I whispered, rushing to it in the parking lot. “Are you kidding me? Why? It’s a piece of junk!”

But it was my piece of junk. I’d managed to save for it, buy it used, pay for insurance and gas every month, take care of maintenance and repairs. There was nothing of value in it to steal. Even the radio was old and broken, but that was okay with me. It was my little junker that I’d been able to afford and rely on. And while I know cars get broken into all the time, it just didn’t make sense that mine was targeted.

Peering through the window, I tried to think if I’d left anything out on the seat, but the only thing I had that I considered to be valuable was my phone, and that had been safely tucked away in my bag inside the gym with me. So it just didn’t make sense. Glass shards spread across the passenger seat, the floor mats were tossed around haphazardly, and the map book I usually kept under my driver’s seat was ripped up. It was almost like someone was mad and just trying to do damage for some reason.

God, what a weird day this was turning into.

There didn’t seem to be anything missing. I shoved the pieces of map book out of the way, practically threw myself onto the driver’s seat in a huff, and drove home with the car as it was. What could I do about it in the parking lot? If I stared at it any longer, I was going to cry, and that was something I just didn’t do in public. Not a good badass image to project. What sounded good was a lukewarm shower, some time to cry on my pillow and a nap before work. I needed some cooling-off time before dealing with the problem.

An image of Ryder, my knight in shining armor from last night, came to mind. His intense green eyes and tough, not-to-be-fucked-with deadly silent demeanor somehow inspired confidence, and I felt better.

As though my thoughts manifested the man, I saw him sitting at one of the common-area tables by the pool in the courtyard, and my heart kicked up a beat. It was both exciting and disconcerting that he was just as devastating to my senses as I remembered.

He was reading the paper, with a bottle of water sitting in front of him. Black hair damp and wearing swim trunks, he looked like he’d just taken a swim. Unfortunately, he’d already put on a white logoed T-shirt, which was stretched across his muscular chest oh, so deliciously.

The view was letting me forget about my problems for the moment and just enjoy.

Disappointingly, as I came through the security gate, he didn’t even look up. I was deliberately making a lot of clanging noise, you know?

Hmm.

I thought about bypassing the courtyard completely and just going up the side stairs to my apartment. However, there seemed to be an invisible rope strongly wrapped around my sense of free will, commandeering it, and I found my feet carrying me toward him anyway. He sighted me over the rim of his paper and lowered it, startling me with his darkly grim expression. He did a split-second inventory of my clothing and gym bag before returning to my eyes. It was like he was mad at me. It gave me pause. I wasn’t sure what to make of his mood and questioned whether to continue toward him. Maybe he wanted to be alone? Not be bothered?

In for a penny
... I proceeded with caution.

“I—I just wanted to thank you for your help last night,” I offered hesitantly. “That could have gotten really ugly.”

At first I thought he wasn’t going to say anything. He was just looking at me with a firm scowl and those commanding green eyes, but then he tossed out “Yeah.”

It was a noncommittal reply, and I couldn’t gauge what his general feeling was about the encounter last night or his feelings about me standing there in front of him. I suddenly wished I had Cynthia’s femme-fatale moves from the night before. I wished I could glide over with sophistication and confidence and be able to sling some clever conversation that would get his attention. But on a good day I’d have trouble meeting that order, much less on a day where I felt out of the norm, where too many unpredictable events were presenting themselves. I decided the best course of action was retreat.

“Well, um, I think I’ve interrupted your...reading.”

“Yeah.”

Damn that word.

I stepped back, ready to save face. “I’m sorry for interrupting. I just wanted to say thank you. It’s one of the hazards of the job, I guess. Guys like that get drunk and think they can just grab what they want—”

“Can’t say I blame him.” He leaned back in his chair, folded the paper very deliberately and set it down, never breaking eye contact.

For a moment I thought I’d misheard him. Stepping toward the table again, I said, “Excuse me?”

“I can’t say I blame him,” he repeated very deliberately. “You advertise, you should expect guys to take you up on it.”

Holy hell.
He did not just say that.
“You’re saying I asked for it?” My tone was all disbelief.

“You wear a skirt that barely covers your ass and then wonder why some guy tries to grab it.” His voice was more of a rumbling growl as he scowled up at me.

What the...! He was no knight in shining armor! A demon, if anything.

“I never signed on to be a knight in shining armor.” He curled a lip with disdain.

“Good thing,” I sputtered angrily.

He continued. “I’m just telling it like it is. I wouldn’t have had to do anything if you’d been watching out for yourself. You have no idea...”

I heard the faint resentment in his statement and attributed it to him having to help me out last night, and I was embarrassed all over again. I could feel my cheeks blazing. “Then thanks for nothing. Next time just stay out of it! I can take care of myself.”

“Next time, don’t advertise.”

Them’s fighting words!
It’s on!
“You think a guy has the right to do as he pleases when he feels like it?”

“No. But if I walk in a dangerous neighborhood flashing wads of cash, I should expect to get robbed.”

“Are you kidding me? I should be able to walk around
naked
and not have to worry about any guy grabbing me!” My anger was bubbling.

“Yeah.” He looked me over with a mocking expression. “Good luck with that. Let me have an invite when that little event’s about to take place.”

“Classic! Absolutely classic! Because I’m wearing something that gives a guy a boner, I’m an evil bitch who deserves what she gets?”

“I’m saying you’re naive, and it’s going to get you hurt.”

“Oh, that’s better! Thanks for that clarification. I’m just too stupid to know how to take care of myself! I’ll remember that from now on!”

“Dammit, that’s not what I said and not what I meant.” He stood suddenly, the chair scraping back on the cement in a single powerful motion. He towered over me, clearly agitated, but I was no longer going to listen. I didn’t have it in me to do
this
, whatever
this
was.

Screw you
,
pal!

“Whatever. I’m out of here.” At this point, it was just all too much. At most any other time, I could have coped better, but here was Ryder thinking so poorly of me while I’d been all turned on by him, which left me with a painful case of humiliation. On top of my car being broken into (which was a horrible invasion of my private self) when I couldn’t afford to fix it, there was Cynthia being all weird with me and leaving indefinitely, and I could feel the crumbling begin. My world as I knew it was changing radically (something I don’t handle well), and I needed to get home so I could break down alone in the privacy of my shower.

“Now hold on...”

“For your information—” I spun back around, eyes blazing, though I
hated
that I could feel my throat clogging with emotion, “—my skirt more than covered my ass, and you’re as much of an
asshole
as that guy last night, if you think I somehow invited his attention.”

Jerk!
I spun around to beat a retreat before I fully broke down. Normally, I avoided situations that could make me feel small and stupid, so why had I invited this? Coming through the gate, I knew I should have gone straight up. Why had I ignored my good sense? As it was, I could feel the hot tears spilling over onto my cheeks. I just didn’t need this today.

He grabbed my arm before I made it three steps.

“Leave me alone.” I tried to jerk free, keeping my head down so he wouldn’t see my face, because I was already horribly embarrassed that he thought I dressed cheaply, which to my mind equals trailer trash (one of my sensitive buttons). I’ve worked so hard to drag myself up from those painful roots to remake myself, knowing I came from what most would term
white trash.
Added to that, now I was being all stupid and girly with tears.

His grip was like a steel shackle. I couldn’t break free.

“Hold on,” he commanded roughly.

“I don’t want you touching me—”

“Just wait a damn minute. You’re bleeding.”

“Bleeding?” That got my attention, and I peered over my shoulder to see what he was referring to.

Ryder knelt down to where my spandex shorts ended, and sure enough, there were a number of small pieces of glass embedded in the back of my thigh. And now that I could see them and know they were there, they started to sting.

“Ow.” I hissed as he pulled one out. Bright droplets pooled and dripped down my leg at the spot where the small glass piece had been sticking in.

“You have a first-aid kit?”

“I think so. Cynthia, my roommate, does at least.”

“I’ll help you clean up.” His voice and touch were suddenly gentle, and that was somehow making things worse. I had been ready to start hating him, and now he was going to be all nice to me? No way. I was done. I needed desperately to be alone so I could cry and truly have a good pity party.

“Thanks, but I’ll handle it.” I pulled away quickly and made for the stairs, trying to wipe the tears from my face. Again, I didn’t get far.

“Don’t be a baby.” His gruff voice in my ear gave me shivers. I was suddenly airborne as he lifted me in his strong arms, gym bag and all, like I didn’t weigh much.

“I don’t need you to carry me!” I struggled in his grasp, trying to stretch my legs down.

“You’re going to hurt your leg.”

“Not if I walk.”

“I’m going to help you,” he said sternly.

“You don’t even like me! Why are you trying to help me? I don’t get you!” And the tears continued to trail down my cheeks, so I did my best to hide my face over his shoulder.

He didn’t respond, and I quickly grabbed on to his thick shoulder muscles as he jogged up the stairs to the second floor. I absolutely refused to acknowledge that I enjoyed feeling feminine and fragile in his arms. Refused! And I absolutely remembered that he’d just been
mean
to me! No, really, I did. But I still didn’t know how to resolve the situation I found myself in.

The door was locked, and he had to put me down so I could fish out my keys. Of course, they were way at the bottom of my bag, but it gave me a moment to breathe and figure out how I wanted to handle this, even with his large, hulking form waiting right in front of me.

Let him in or send him away. What was the best thing to do?

I located my keys and looked up into his jade eyes, ready to politely dismiss him, and saw they were frowning down at me with a hint of self-reproach, like he was doing something he didn’t agree with. If I could read into his expression a bit, he even seemed somewhat unsure, like he didn’t quite know what to do with me.

“Taylor,” he started, but he paused, disarming me with a gentle swipe of a tear from my face, and glared at the floor a moment. His face set in hard lines, he looked at me briefly, and in that moment I could see his expression seemed tortured. There was an internal struggle going on, like he was debating what he was going to say. “I don’t think you’re inviting sexual harassment, and I didn’t think you were asking for anything to happen to you...any more than my sister was.”

“Oh.” The soft exclamation deflated my upset.

I saw from his closed-off expression that that was all he planned to say, leaving me to wonder with horror about what had happened to his sister. Had men sexually abused her? Was she okay? It had to have been bad, if he was unwilling to talk about it. Was this his way of apologizing or trying to make peace? If something terrible had happened to his sister in a sexual way, I could understand his having strong feelings about protecting a female from unwelcome sexual attention.

“You’re going to need someone with tweezers to pull out all the little pieces of glass,” he said in a businesslike manner. “Let me help you.”