Guardian (The Guardian Trilogy) (8 page)

I push
against the ground and stand.  I press my dirty fingertip to my lips and then
hold it out to send James a silent kiss.  I allow my heart to wrap around the
fact that here is where I can go to be near him.  “I love you, and I’ll be back
soon,” I say.

As hard
as it was for me to get out of the car and walk here, it is even harder for me
to walk away.  I force myself to turn.  I make it to the bench and sit down.

“Everything
okay?” Shel asks.

Surprising
myself, I say, “It will be.”

She
nods and then stands.  She extends her hand and helps me off the bench.  “Then
mission accomplished.  Do you forgive me?” she asks sheepishly.

“For
now,” I say.  Then I throw my arms around her.  “Thank you.”

As luck
would have it, two days later Bay Woods called to ask us both for interviews. 
Apparently we were the only two who applied who weren’t still in high school. 
I think the interview itself was more for protocol than anything; it basically
consisted of two questions: what days of the week can you work, and when can
you start?

Our
training began that Friday.  We were shown how to work both the main concession
and the beverage carts, since we are old enough to serve alcohol.  At first I
was worried about bartending, but thankfully the drinks offered are no more complicated
than a gin and tonic.  At the end of our training day, we were each given three
teal blue “Bay Woods Golf Course” polo shirts.  Official employment would begin
on Monday.

“We
should celebrate,” Shel says on our way home after training.

I make
a face.  “I don’t feel like going out.”

“You
never feel like going out,” she huffs.

I roll
my eyes at her.  “You can go.  Have fun.”

“Who am
I going to go with?  Myself?”

I
sigh.  I can tell from her tone that this is one of her I’m-going-to-get-my-way
moments.  “What did you have in mind?”

“Let’s get
some dinner,” she suggests.  “What about that place in town?  The one that has
the live band on weekends?”

“Louie’s
Roadhouse?”

“That’s
the one.  Don’t they have awesome breadsticks?”

“Yeah. 
And the portions are huge.”

“So is
that a yes?” She looks hopeful.

“Fine. 
Yes.”

She
claps like a perky cheerleader.  I make a turn on the next street to take us
through town instead of around it.

Pulling
into the restaurant, it’s hard to find a parking space.  Friday night is a busy
night for Louie’s.  I manage to find one on the outside of the lot and squeeze
my car into it.  Inside, the place is packed.  A classic rock band plays loudly
in the corner under neon bar signs while people dance.  It feels a little
claustrophobic to me, but Shel’s eyes light up.

“How
many?” a waitress asks loudly over the music.

“Just
two!”

We get
stuck at a small table in the back, right outside the restrooms.  Shel speaks
with the waitress briefly who disappears, only to reappear moments later with
two huge strawberry daiquiris.  She places one in front of each of us.

“Hey! 
I can’t drink all of this,” I protest to Shel.  “Besides, I’m driving.”

“I
think you’ll be okay,” she yells across the table.  “I know you won’t finish it
and besides, we’re supposed to be celebrating!”

I take
a drink, and it does taste good.  We turn our attention to the band and the
dance floor.  I have to admit that people watching is one of my favorite
activities.

Eventually
we order.  When our food arrives, my chef salad is monstrous.  As I’m cramming
another bite into my mouth – why can’t they ever cut the lettuce in small
pieces? – I hear a male voice, “Well look at what the cat dragged in!”

I look
up just as Shel is jumping out of her seat to hug some big guy.  He wraps his
arms around her.  What the heck?

She
steps back from him, excited.  “When did you get into town?  What are you doing
here?”

“Last
night, actually.  My buddy plays guitar,” he nods toward the band.  Then he
seems to notice me.  With a soft expression he yells over the music, “Hey Em. 
How’ve you been?”

Who is
this person?  How does he know me?  I stare at him stupidly.

“Emma!”
Shel scolds me.  “Say hello to Matt!”

Matt? 
Holy crap, I wouldn’t have recognized him in a million years.  He still sports
his textured blonde hairstyle, but he’s bigger than I remember.  More
muscular.  I smile, embarrassed.  “I’m sorry!” I yell.  “I so did not recognize
you!”  I stand up, and he gives me an awkward hug.

He
smiles and looks around.  “Listen, I’ll be come back when the band breaks.  I
can hardly hear!”

“Okay!”

Matt
waves and makes his way to the restroom.

“I
didn’t think he was coming home until next month,” Shel says between bites.

I try
to remember the last time I saw Matt.  An image springs to mind of him stopping
by James’ house the summer after high school while we were washing the Jeep.  I
smile as I remember trying to stay out of the water fight that ensued only to
end up drenched anyway.  Wow, that was two years ago.

After
we finish our dinner, the band takes a break.  A DJ fills the silence, but he’s
nowhere near as loud.  Matt reappears, pulls a chair over from another table,
and takes a seat.  He’s tall, over six foot, and his knees bump the bottom of
the tabletop when he sits.  I chastise myself for wondering if he’s on
steroids.  The last time I saw him he was still wiry Matt; he played baseball
in high school.  Now, his white Old Navy ringer tee barely stretches across his
chest.

“So,”
he looks at our drinks.  “What can I get you ladies?”

“Oh,
nothing for me, thanks,” I say.

“Another
daiquiri, please,” Shel requests.

Matt
calls a nearby waitress over and orders the daiquiri and a beer.  Turning his
attention back to us he asks, “What brings you guys out?”

“We’re
celebrating,” Shel looks at me.  “We are officially employees at Bay Woods
starting Monday.”

“That’s
a nice course,” Matt comments.  “I golf out there quite a bit, when I’m home.”

Shel
and Matt delve into conversation, as if they see each other every day.  I
basically observe and nod once in a while.

Someone
taps me on my shoulder.  I turn and come face to face with some random stranger
with greasy hair and bad skin.  His rancid beer breath is right in my face.  I
lean away from him.

“You
wanna dance?” the guy slurs.

Dear
God, no.  “Um.  N–no thanks,” I say politely and turn back around.

“Wahs
your problem?” he peers around my shoulder.  “Yous think you’re too good or
somethin’?”  He grabs my arm.

“Hey!” 
My skin crawls where he touches me.  I try to pull away and lean back at the
same time.

Matt
stands abruptly, knocking his chair over.  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,”
he growls and takes a step forward.

Drunk
guy lets go of my arm.  “What’s it to you?” he says angrily and stands up
tall.  With the two of them facing off like this, it’s clear that Matt has the
advantage.  He is much taller and more muscular than drunk guy.

Matt’s brown
eyes go dark.  “It would be best if you left.  Now.”

Drunk
guy puts on a tough face, but sways a little when he takes a step.  He regains
his balance and stares at Matt.  Then he looks at me.  “Forget it.  You’re not
worth it,” he sneers.  He turns and stumbles away.

Matt stares
him down until he’s back on the other side of the bar.  He picks up his chair
and takes a seat.

“Thank
you so much,” I say gratefully.

He takes
a drink of his beer, then smiles at me.  “Any time.”

Shel
picks up the conversation where they left off as I sit there waiting for my
adrenaline to return to normal levels.  I check my phone.  It’s only nine, but
I’m ready to go home.

I
manage to make it only fifteen more minutes until I bring it up.  “Shel, you
ready to go?”

She
frowns at me.  Guess that’s a no.

As
their conversation continues, I decide to make a trip to the restroom.  When I
get back, the band has started again and both Matt and Shel are standing.

“What’s
up?” I yell over the music.

“I
thought you were ready to go?” Shel asks.

“Yes!”
I answer, probably too enthusiastically.

We make
our way outside, and I inhale the night air.  It was really stuffy inside
Louie’s.  Matt follows us out.   “Where are you parked?” he asks.

“Way
over there,” I gesture ahead of us.

We
start to walk toward my car.  “Thanks again, for your help back there,” I tell him. 
“I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, I’m
glad I didn’t have to pull out my mad ninja skills,” Shel teases.

Matt
laughs.  Little does he know that Shel really does have mad ninja skills.  Well,
karate skills from an elective she took last year.

We’re
just about to the car when I hear scuffling behind us.  Shel and I turn around
and see two people.  I recognize drunk guy immediately.  Suddenly, his buddy
has Matt in a headlock.

I never
figured Shel for a scared screamer.  As Matt wrestles with the guy to get out
of his hold, Shel lets out one of the loudest shrieks I’ve ever heard.  Drunk
guy actually takes a step back at the sound.

I start
to panic as I back away and attempt to wrestle my cell phone from my purse.  I
keep my eyes locked on Matt.  Why are these guys attacking him? 
Call the
police!
my brain screams.

“Let go
of me asshole!” Matt grunts as he maneuvers his way out from under the guy’s
arms and tries to pin them behind his back.  The guy is too fast and ends up escaping
Matt’s grasp.  They separate, a few feet apart, and start to circle one
another.

“Knock
it off!” Shel yells at them.

Matt
lunges at the guy, and he jumps out of the way.

I’m
still trying to get my damn phone out of my purse.

Drunk
guy decides to step in.  His hands grab Matt’s shirt but he’s not strong
enough, or maybe he’s too inebriated, to hang on.  Matt takes his arm and easily
knocks the guy free.  Drunk guy falls to the ground right in front of me, and I
jump back.  I scramble out of the way and run to Shel’s side.

“Don’t
you know karate?” I ask her frantically.

“Like
two moves!” she snaps at me.  “And this isn’t the most controlled environment!”

Distracted
by shaking off drunk guy, Matt is caught around the waist from behind, his arms
pinned to his sides by his original assailant.  He struggles to break free.

“What
do you want?” Shel screams at them.

I have
gone mute as the sense of déjà vu settles over me.  The same scene flashes before
my eyes but it’s at school, at Western.  James is fighting off Patrick, a lab
partner of mine who became overly friendly and turned into somewhat of a
stalker.  It started with a few notes that went from innocent to threatening. 
Then, he seemed to show up everywhere I went.  When I discovered that he had
registered for all the same classes as me for the next semester, James came to
campus to take care of the situation.   He only meant to talk to him, maybe scare
him into leaving me alone, but the talk quickly escalated into a fight. 
Patrick had James pinned, just as this guy has Matt.

 “Please
don’t hurt him!” I beg Patrick.

“Stay
back Em!” James warns me.

Patrick
grunts.  “Call off your boyfriend!”

“James! 
Stop!  Both of you!  Stop!”  I yell.

“Tell
him we’re friends!” Patrick demands as James continues to struggle.  “Tell him!”

“Okay! 
Okay!  We’re just friends!” I say to James.  “Let him go!”

Patrick
actually released his hold on James, after which James quickly turned and
punched him in the face.  Blood spurted everywhere as he fell backward.  Patrick
lay on the ground for a few minutes, then recovered from his fall and took off
across the parking lot, holding his nose.  I never saw or heard from him again,
but I was
always
looking over my shoulder, afraid he would reappear at any moment.  That’s when
James quit the hockey team and left Ferris.  He immediately transferred to
Western to make sure I was safe.

The
memory takes only a second to play out behind my eyes, and in that time drunk
guy has recovered from his fall and staggers toward Matt.  “This is for tryin’
to be tough!” he taunts and closes his hand in a fist.  “This’ll ruin that
pretty boy face of yours,” he sneers as he winds up to punch.

“No!” I
find my voice.

Thankfully
drunk guy is pretty drunk because the punch he throws knocks him off balance
and his fist heads for Matt’s stomach, not his nose.  Matt kicks drunk guy in
the gut, sending him sprawling.  The force must have worked in Matt’s favor,
because he finally breaks the hold around his arms.

Matt
turns on the guy who was holding him and lands two solid punches, one in his
stomach and one on the side of his jaw.  I cringe at the sound they make.  The
guy stumbles backward.

I hear
voices and realize some people in the parking lot are making their way over to
see what’s going on.  “Matt!” I yell as Shel and I run for the car.  He glances
at me for a moment and then turns his attention back to his attackers.  I yank
open the car door, crawl in, and start the ignition.

The guy
Matt punched is recovering and takes a few steps toward him.  Matt turns and
makes a beeline for the car.  He throws open the passenger side door and falls
in.  “Go!”