Inseparable Strangers (4 page)

His stare
penetrated me while he seemed to ponder my idea. I expected to find anger in
them, but they held a sense of gratitude instead. He should be grateful; this
is extremely out of my comfort zone.

He inhaled a deep
breath, gave a single nod, and then muttered, “fast and quick.” No sooner than
he gave me the green light, I mustered up every ounce of strength I could and
jerked him out of the car with a mighty tug.

A blood-curdling
wail came from the depths of his soul causing goose bumps to rise all over my
body. He was in worse pain than I’d thought. This wasn’t good. I wasn’t
equipped to handle this guy. His limp body slumped against mine, his weight
causing us to fall back against the wall. My shoulder blade slammed against the
sheet rock, absorbing the brunt of the fall. A pain shot through my back and it
hurt like hell, but I didn’t want to show any sign of weakness. If he found a
fragile hole, he could take advantage of me when I least expected it.

Fighting through
the pain, I drug him over to the steps going into the house, then settled him
on the floor. “Here are the covers. I’ll lay them out for you and you can sleep
here for the night. If you need to use the bathroom, you can either go outside
or I can bring you a bottle to piss in,” I said while laying the comforter out
flat. “Do not, and I repeat, do not come inside for anything. Do you understand
me?” I stopped fixing his bed to give him a hard stare. He needed to know how
serious I was about my request.

He started to
answer me, but a round of coughing attacked him, keeping him unable to speak.
He gave me a single nod before he bent over with his arms folded over his
abdomen. My instincts told me to pat him on the back, but my brain screamed at
me to not touch him anymore than I had to.

After he was able
to catch his breath, he surprised me when he asked for some water. “Do you have
anything for pain? Maybe some ibuprofen?”

It never occurred
to me that he would need something to drink or eat, much less pain meds. “Uh,
yeah, sure. Stay here while I get you some.”

I skipped a step
as I rushed into the house. I snatched a bottle of water from the fridge and
shook out a couple of pills from the pill bottle I kept in the cabinet. In less
than a minute, I was back in the garage. He’d started crawling over to his
make-shift bed so I left him alone until he was settled.

The urge hit me to
help him, but I kept my feet planted. This charity work I was handing out
freely was starting to piss me off. I had no idea where it was coming from and
I wasn’t about to start up a bad habit now. Saving him from death was more than
a thank you for his help yesterday. Hopefully, he won’t kill me while I sleep
tonight.

After a lot of
grunts, groans, sharp intakes of air, and muttering I couldn’t understand, he’d
finally laid down on the comforter.

“Here,” I said
handing him the water and two pills. He grabbed the water and held his other
palm up so I could drop them without touching him. His chest rose and fell,
while his lungs wheezed, trying to catch his breath.

“Okay, here’s the
deal. You can sleep here tonight, but no matter what shape you’re in tomorrow,
you’re going to have to leave. This isn’t a homeless shelter nor a hospital,” I
said sternly as I walked into the house. Closing the door, I stuck my head
through to remind him. “And remember, absolutely under no circumstances, do you
come into my house. I have a gun and I will shoot you if you do,” I threatened.
I didn’t have a gun, but as long as he believed I did, that was all that
mattered.

As I closed the
door he stopped me before I latched it shut. “Thank you, and sorry to be a
bother. I’ll make sure I’m gone in the morning. And I promise, I won’t step
foot inside your house.”

Don’t visit me in
my dreams either.

It
was nice waking up to my alarm rather than some seething, hairy monster trying
to shoot my brains out. It was a Monday, and for me, that meant meeting up with
my personal trainer, Justin, at six o’clock sharp. I liked getting my workout
in before the morning crowd started piling in. But first on my list was to shoo
the creep away if he hadn’t left already. Next was to indulge in a little
one-on-one time with Justin. I was feeling very flirty today. My lady parts
were tired of visiting B.O.B., they wanted the real deal.

A
wave of relief came over me when I crept into the garage and found the
comforters neatly folded. He’d left just as I’d asked him to. I inspected my
car inside and out, and then walked all around the garage making sure he wasn’t
hiding anywhere. When I went to open the side door to the garage, I was pleased
to find it locked. Stepping outside, I glanced around both sides of the house
and out around the yard. He was nowhere in sight. I took a deep breath and
relaxed my shoulders making my way back inside.

Justin
was a perk to my ‘crack of dawn’ weekly routine. He had one of those haircuts
all the European guys wore — short all around with the top shaggy, but neatly
combed to the side. His russet brown hair was a few shades darker than his
skin, and his gray eyes were bright, giving them a wicked glow. His body… I
couldn’t even think about his body without wetting my panties. It was hard
enough getting through my workout with his hands on me. Some days I actually
had to wear panty liners. 

My
morning was starting off ten times better than yesterday, and I couldn’t help
but wonder if I was being rewarded for my good deeds from last night.

Once
again, the weather was dreary and wet. The summer was practically over and fall
was bringing in the rain. My wipers sloshed away the droplets from my
windshield giving me a better view of the bleak world around me. Any other day
the drabby weather would sling me into a state of depression, but Justin was my
ray of sunshine to burn those clouds away.

There
were a total of five cars in the parking lot, which meant more private time for
me to spend with Justin. Some days, a new girl would pop in for the early
routine but Justin would send them away, breaking their precious little hearts.
I would sit off to the side and laugh to myself at them for being so stupid to
not set up an appointment. Do people really think you can just show up at a gym
and a personal trainer will be appointed to assist you? Idiots.

With
my water bottle in one hand, and my bag in the other I hopped out of my car and
dashed under the shelter by the front entrance. Being one of the first to
arrive had its perks when it came to bad weather. As soon as I walked through the
sliding glass doors, Tracey, the girl who worked the front desk, informed me
that Justin wasn’t coming in today.

“Are
you fucking kidding me? Couldn’t someone have called me so I wouldn’t have
wasted my time driving over here at the crack-ass of dawn?” I snarled.

Tracey’s
eyes widened at my outburst. “I’m sorry, he just called about five minutes
ago,” she said nervously, looking at her watch to confirm her time. “He said he
was sick,” she added.

I
shook my head in disgust. “He has my number. He could’ve called me himself,” I
spat out. “If your employers can’t follow proper protocol then maybe you should
look for a replacement. Or maybe I should look for a new gym,” I seethed,
slamming my hand on the counter to make sure I had her attention.

Her
eyes were still bulging like a deer caught in headlights. “I’m really sorry. I
don’t know what else to tell you. I’m sure management will discuss this with
him when he comes back in.” Fear flashed around her in sparkling lights. I
thrived on the fear of others. It made me feel superior. Was it shallow of me
to feel that way? Maybe so, but who the hell cared?

“You
just make sure you let management know that if this ever happens again, I’ll
make sure I take my business elsewhere. As much money as this place makes off
of me a year, I’m pretty sure they’ll take heed to my warning.” With that last
comment, I turned my back to her and waltzed back to my car. If Justin wasn’t
so damn hot, I’d text him and tell him he was fired, but he was too delicious
to let go that easy.

Now
that my morning was free, I drove back home so I could spend a couple extra
hours in my warm bed.

My
mood was bleak so I turned on Skrillex to suppress my temper. Music was my
muse, and it was my number one go-to to pull me out of my funk. As I turned
onto Woodsworth Drive, something along the embankment caught my eye. It almost
looked like a person. It kind of looked like the bearded stranger. I wonder if
he was here when I left this morning, and, if so, how did I not see him?

Why?
Why can’t I escape this guy?

Once
again, natural instinct took over my thought process, and I found myself
pulling off to the side of the road.
Dammit.
It was him. He was lying
face down on the ground. Anxiety took over as the first thought to cross my
mind was death. He had to be dead and it was my fault. I made him leave without
care. I never once checked on him throughout the night. He could’ve hemorrhaged
to death. My mind ran frantic with all the possibilities of what was to come. I
could be looking at manslaughter. My prints were all over him. There was proof
of him being at my house. This was one of those times I didn’t know if Daddy
could save me.

My
body shook with adrenaline as I trudged alongside the bank. I knelt down on my
knees and shook him. “Hey, are you okay? Can you hear me?” No response. I shook
him harder. “Please, wake up. You’ve got to wake up,” I pleaded. Worried that
someone would see us, I hovered over him in an attempt to hide his body. My
ears strained to listen for oncoming cars while I worked at flipping him over.
His back landed on the wet ground harder than I’d intended. “Ahh!” he screamed
out. The torrential rain drowned him out, and this time I was thankful for the
shitty weather. I closed my eyes with relief that he was alive.

“Get
up. You’ve got to get up,” I yelled, pulling on his arm as I tried to stand up.
“If you lay here much longer you’re going to die, and there’s no way I’m having
your death on my conscience.”

The
rain was relentless on us making it harder to maneuver on the slippery grass.
He pushed himself up with his left arm as I dug my heels into the mud along the
bankside to give myself better leverage. In one quick jerk he was up on both
feet. “C’mon, I’ll take you back to my house unless you’re ready to go to the
ER?”

He
shook his head.

“No
you don’t want to go to my house, or no you don’t want to go to the ER?”

“I’m
not going to the hospital. You can leave me here if you don’t want to take me
to your house.” A round of coughs attacked him causing him to bend over at the
waist.

“That
cough doesn’t sound good. I think you have punctured a lung.”

He
shrugged me off.

“You
could have internal bleeding.”

He
shook his head again. “I’m fine. I just need some water.”

It
was amazing, even homeless freaks that were knocking on death’s door were as
stubborn as any wealthy man out there.

“Water?
I think you need an IV, maybe serious narcotics, and an x-ray. I don’t think
water is going to do much for you right now.”

We
fought against the mud and rain as we climbed back up the bank to my car.
Seeing that he was so weak he could barely hold his head up, I covered the
front passenger seat with clothes from my trunk and settled him in beside of
me. My safety didn’t feel threatened anymore.

His
head lobbed against the passenger window, and I took comfort knowing he was
alive each time I saw his breath fog up a small circle against the glass. I
pulled the car into the garage and my eyes immediately took notice of the
neatly folded comforters he’d placed by the steps. It was obvious he was in no
condition to leave this morning, but he’d followed my instructions and left
anyway.

The
realization dawned on me in that instant that I was going to have to care for
this stranger until he was well enough to survive on his own. I’d never had to
take care of anyone else before, not even a pet. I was a self-centered bitch. I
didn’t have time, nor did I ever care to take the time to waste on another
living creature. This was going to be an interesting adventure. If he knew any
better, he would run as far away from here as soon as possible.

He
was still nestled against the door, and he stood nearly a foot taller than my
5’2” frame. I took the time to look at him while he slept. His face had so much
damn hair, it made it impossible to know his age, but looking at the very few
lines creasing the corner of his eyes, he couldn’t have been any older than
thirty. His hands were the only other part of him that wasn’t covered up. His
knuckles were cracked and bloody. Underneath his fingernails and around the
cuticles were black with dirt. Aside from all of the filth, his hands looked
young… gentle… overworked. This man had definitely lived a harsh life.

I
got out of the car and walked over to open his door. His body slumped over and
I caught him with my thigh. His frail body was declining fast, and I’d wondered
how long it had been since he’d ate. If he didn’t have the strength to walk, I
didn’t know how I was going to get him inside, and I couldn’t leave him in the
garage again.

Taking
a hold of both shoulders, I shook him hard. “Listen to me, you’ve got to get
up. I can’t carry you inside, so you’re going to have to find the strength to
walk.”

His
weakened eyelids opened halfway. The short, thick eyelashes feathered up and
down as he fought to keep them opened. He nodded once to acknowledge me then
gripped the metal edges of the doorframe to pull himself up. “Just use me as a
prop and I’ll guide you along the way.”

With
trial and error, we finally made it into the house which brought us to the
washroom. We both leaned against the wall to catch our breaths. He gripped his
abdomen, and the threat of a punctured organ worried me again.

“One
more trip. If we can make it to the spare bedroom then you won’t have to walk
anymore. Okay?” I asked, leaning down to look up at his face. His eyes were
squeezed tightly together. “I know you’re in pain, and I’ll get you something
to help with that as soon as we get you settled, okay?”

He
nodded once.

I
wrapped my arm around his waist and draped his arm around my shoulder. “When I
count to three we’re going to go. Push yourself as hard as you can. The sooner
we get there, the quicker it will be over.” Two days ago when he had helped me
with my flat tire, I would’ve never imagined myself touching him, much less
bringing him into my home. It was amazing how a simple turn of events could
heavily impact one’s life.

“One,
two, three.”

We
shuffled down the hall like two kids would do when running in a relay race
where you tie one leg to the others. It was a sloppy mess, but without any
falls, we made it to the bedroom. He flopped onto the bed, and I cringed when I
saw his dirty, wet body soaking through my five hundred dollar white comforter.

“You
can’t stay in those ol’ ragged wet clothes all night. My father looks close to
your size, I’ll get you something dry to change into. In the meantime, see if
you can peel those shredded pieces of cloth off of you,” I said as I dug
through the drawers, pulling out grey sweatpants and a plain, white t-shirt.
Any time I brought a guy to the house, he stayed in the spare room. I never
brought my one-night stands to my bedroom. Most of the time when they stayed
the night, they always seemed to leave at least one piece of clothing behind. I
would make sure Zoila washed whatever it was and put them in here just in case
I ever decided to invite them back. Mister Crip didn’t need to know they
weren’t my fathers.

I
closed the door behind me to give him privacy. I just hoped he was coherent
enough to cover himself up. A naked mountain man wasn’t something I took
interest in seeing right before lunch.

While
I gave him time to change his clothes, I went in the kitchen to get him more
ibuprofen and warm him some soup. Zoila kept my shelves stocked, so I was
pleased to find a can of tomato. Let’s just hope he liked it. After fighting
with the damn can opener, I dumped the contents into a bowl, added a little bit
of milk, and then nuked it in the microwave.

Lightly,
I tapped my knuckles on the door before entering. I didn’t want to walk in on
him and all his glory. When I didn’t hear anything on the other side, I knocked
a little harder in case he hadn’t heard me. “Come in,” he replied with a low,
weak voice.

Carefully
turning the doorknob, I juggled the bottle of water, bottle of pain meds, and
his hot soup on a tray. He was curled up again in a fetal position on top of
the comforter.
At least he’s decent enough to not ruin my linen too.
His
pile of brown, wet clothes was folded in a neat pile beside the bed.
Who the
hell folds up rags that should be thrown in the trash?

“Here
I brought you some soup; I hope you like tomato,” I smiled. “I made it creamy
to add a little more calorie to your diet. As weak as you are, you’re going to
need to consume all you can in order to gain your strength back,” I said,
placing the tray down on the nightstand. “It really wasn’t necessary to fold
your clothes up so nice and neat. Unless you want them washed, you can keep
what you have on now.”