A hearty thanks to my editor, tigersman.
*****
9 o'clock, Tuesday
She had just been told that her family didn't make it from the car accident.
The accident happened two months ago, just as she was starting her second year in college. She had fragments of that memory in her mind, pushing most of it somewhere deep that she couldn't find, at least not soon.
She had a part-time job at a local bookstore and she was there when she received the phone call from the hospital.
Her shift had ended since 6 o'clock, but she had to stay those three extra hours to help her boss sort some newly arrived used books.
After the phone call she mumbled goodnight and went out.
She needed some fresh air and the least possible crowd. She took the little street behind the bookstore and started to feel her eyes wetting.
This autumn night was mild. The soft breeze kept her going while her mind was empty.
Her hands were in the pockets of her jeans and the black woolen jacket was swinging by that breeze.
Her bag felt heavy on her back, heavier than before.
Mechanically she turned her head to her right to check the road for cars and her wavy, brown blond hair got on her face.
She didn't have the chance to cross the road as she was stopped by the loud "hey there" from what seemed like a three member gang. Two of them approached her quickly while the third was standing ten meters away, kind of supervising.
"Wanna hang out tonight, pretty face?" one of them said, as he tried to touch her.
She didn't move, she didn't respond.
"You're not talking to us, babe?"
No, she wasn't. She kept looking at them, slowly beginning to understand the situation. She pushed the echo of her family news to the side and with her eyes still wet from the shock, she glanced at their leader. He looked casual in his black hoodie leaning against the wall, but she sensed he was watching around all the time and that he was tense, ready for action if needed.
She turned to the other two. Still, didn't speak a word but looked at them. Theywere close enough now. One tried to grab her hand while the other raised his hand, brass knuckles around it, aiming at her neck.
Her bag being heavy made her take a slightly different turn than expected and the iron fist got her in the left side of her face while the rest of her dropped heavily on the pavement.
Blood ran from the trauma on her face.
"Fuck!" they both said as the third one was approaching quickly.
"That was pretty stupid and unnecessary," he said to them in a quiet angry voice. "Go, leave, I'll take care of this. Go!"
One of them grabbed her bag while the other ran. They were both taking quick, fearful looks at their leader as they ran away.
"Fuck!" he thought too.
He felt her pulse. Still there. He pushed her hard until she let a low voice.
OK, she's responding. He should leave now while there was no one around.
He looked at her again. He knew if he left her there she would be dead in a couple of hours. He remembered the way she reacted, or better the way she didn't react. Like she had nothing to lose. Her face was scarred quite deep in one side past her lips, near the chin. The color of the blood darkened as the minutes went by and it made a huge contrast with her white skin.
Fuck. Two powers dueled inside him. Two lives at risk, hers or his, He had to decide quickly.
He lifted her and carried her the distance to his home.
12:10am, Wednesday
He knew the first hours were crucial.
So, as soon as he heard her making a sound, he went near her.
"Hey, how are you feeling?"
She opened her eyes slowly. She didn't recognize where she was and she felt dizzy. It took her some moments to identify the face in front of her. Less intimidating now without the hoodie and its shadows. She tried to withdraw backwards. All she felt was the back of the leather couch she was sleeping on. Dizzy again.
"You don't have to be afraid of me," he said in a calm voice.
She looked at him. He's just the one she was afraid of.
"You have to try hard and stand up."
She had to put her hands on her head to steady it. It took her two whole minutes and she had to hold onto the couch as she was standing.
"Now tell me your name."
She moved her head slowly. "This is a joke, right?"
"Actually it's the first question they'd ask you in a hospital. You had a concussion and I want to know to what extent."
She closed her eyes to minimize the dizziness.
"What do you care? You and your gang caused this..."
"You didn't answer me, though."
"Eva."
"Sounds nice, Eva," he started, but before he could finish, she collapsed on the couch.
OK, so the waiting wasn't over. He would have to watch out for a fever now. He let her sleep.
2:34am, Wednesday
It took him some minutes to wake up to the sounds.
She was having a nightmare and crying out "Get out of the car, get out of the car."
He reached for her forehead. Hot. Fuck.
He had no paracetamol. But this fever had to come down soon. Tried to remember his training: tepid water bath.
"Eva," he touched her lightly. "Can you get up? You need to take a shower."
After a couple of moments she opened her eyes. He noticed they were dilated. And a deep green.
He repeated, "Eva, get up, I'll hold you."
He was certain she hadn't woken up yet, but she obeyed.
He had to half drag her to the shower. It only took him a moment, before he reached for his pocket knife and tore her blooded t-shirt and took her jeans off in a quick move. And her underwear. He pushed her gently in the shower.
"Can you hold this? I'll open the water for you."
One minute he was making sure her hand was on the rail making sure her eyes were open and the next she was letting go of the rail with her eyes closed.
Fuck! "Fuck," he whispered loud.
He entered the shower although he was in his t-shirt and shorts.
He had to embrace her. She was out.
He let the water flow and tried to wash the blood out of her hair and face.
As he did, he felt her heavier on him. He could see the signs.
"Don't die on me now. Come on! Eva, wake up," he was talking in a low voice, mostly to himself. He knew she couldn't listen.
"Don't faint now, Eva. Don't die on me. Don't die on me now. Please don't die on me."
He kept directing the water to her head mostly and feeling her forehead constantly, while holding her tight all the time.
He was always proud he could control himself to whatever limit he wanted to, but this situation was a real test for him. Her perky breasts were a breath away from his chest and her white skin with some faint blue veins, in his hands. Her body emitted the strange mixture of innocence along with alluring curves.
He reduced the temperature more. "Wake up Eva, wake up," he repeated while touching for signs of coolness.
When he felt her shiver he knew she had taken too much. Time to take her out.
He was rewarded. She seemed to regain her consciousness a bit and tried to hide herself, although her eyes were still dilated.
"Don't be afraid, Eva," he reassured her, speaking softly, but still holding her up.
He quickly grabbed a clean t-shirt of his and a pair of boxers. He dressed her in no time and put her on his bed.
As he went to bring a towel to dry her hair, he thought that he still had more than 24 hours to make sure she didn't have a stage three concussion, or even worse, internal bleeding.
He changed his own clothes, which were soaking wet after the shower.
He slept on the couch.
His last thought before he slept was "How am I gonna get out of this?"
10:44am, Wednesday
She woke up, but it took her more than two minutes to realize where she was.
He had seen her, but let her alone to adjust her memories. At least it would be a good indication if she had any memories. It would mean that the worse was over.
She half closed her eyes because the windows weren't covered and the sunlight felt hard today. Dizzy. Although less than yesterday. All came rushing back. She blushed, as she felt his t-shirt on her.
"Coffee?" he asked, breaking her thoughts.
She hadn't noticed him yet. He was standing over her, quite tall with his shoulder length, dark hair casting shadows on his face. His eyes were dark blue as he studied her face.
"I don't drink coffee really..."
"It will do you good. It's mild and will boost your head just as much as you need."
"OK... Thanks," she said lowering her voice and her head.
He moved to touch her forehead and she held back a little.
She let him feel her.
"It's better now, but we'll have to keep an eye for the next day or so."
He handed her the coffee and sat on the concrete floor by the bed.
"You had a concussion. The first 24 hours are crucial if you develop a fever. Since I wanted to avoid the hospital, I took all the measures I had to keep it down," he explained calmly.
He extended his hand to her face. Again, she backed a little.
"You have a quite deep scar on your face. I'm surprised it doesn't sting. I didn't take care of that when I saw that you had a high fever," he said as he ran his fingers on the scar.
Her dizziness lifted. She was supposed to thank him? Did she owe him her life? For she could have been raped and killed up on that pavement. But it was his gang that provoked it. He was surely their leader. Why did he let it happen in the first place? Why didn't he stop them then?
He was still studying her for any warning signs, or so she thought, or so he thought until he had once again the same warning line sounding over and over in his head. How the hell am I gonna get out of this?
12pm, Wednesday
He got up.
He was the first to break that line that they both felt was developing between them.
"I'm gonna make some phone calls outside. Don't stand up on your own while I'm out. Rest as much as you can," he ordered in a flat voice.
He went out with a quick pace.
She looked around, sipping her coffee while it was still hot.
The place must have been a part of an old factory with its concrete floors and walls. It didn't have a proper door, only a garage door, rusted and heavy. It had hanging bulbs, a leather couch and his bed. A couple of chairs were scattered around and a large door that led to the bathroom. This was the only room separated from the rest of the open space.
She suddenly felt tired and set her coffee mug on the floor. She was asleep in less than a minute.
He felt relieved when he saw her sleeping again. Those were the directions. Sleep and rest for the first hours.
He felt her forehead and her scar. It was healing by the hour. Good.
7:12pm Wednesday
She woke up. Dizziness was there, but didn't seem impossible like before.
"What time is it?" she asked in a faint voice.
"Hey, you are OK? It's a quarter past seven in the evening. You're doing well."
"So, can I leave?"
He took a moment before he would reply. He looked into her eyes. The dilation had gone. They were just kind of melancholic.
"You are expected somewhere? You don't have anything, not even clothes to walk out soon. Plus I have to take measures so you won't talk about this to anyone."
She felt stupid. Of course, it wouldn't be easy. He's a gang leader for Christ shake!
"My bag?"
"Was taken."
What? She had all her money in there from her work, all her clothes.
"I'm lost without it! All my belongings were in there..."
He paused for a moment.
"I'll get you some clothes. And stuff... And a bag. I'll be back. Don't get up on your own, stay there. Drink more water. I guess tomorrow morning you can leave..."
"OK."
When he returned, he found her sitting on the floor, away from the bed.
"God, Eva, I told you to stay down..."
He stood her up.
