Hyde, an Urban Fantasy (12 page)

“I’m not talking about x-ray vision.”

“Obviously not. Or you’d know I don’t wear underwear. You’re a terrible superhero.”

“Does anyone find you amusing?”

He grasped his heart. “Ouch. You’re a
mean
superhero. Fine, tell me all about your incredible powers.”

“I broke my door down a few nights ago.”

Blinking, he asked, “Why’d you do that?”

“To get out. Our door lock is the kind that you have to use a key for both sides and, apparently, while I’m unconscious, I’m not smart enough to look in my purse. After I woke up on your lawn, I went home. The door was in the hallway. A normal person can’t kick in one of those locks. And I don’t—I don’t think I could even pick up that door now.”

His brow furrowed and he leaned up against the car. At least he was listening, listening intently. “Is your boyfriend alright?”

“Yes.”

“Well, where was he?”

“He was—”

“Wait, let me guess. He was sleeping, wasn’t he?”

She clamped her jaw shut and waited for his little rant to be over. It might take a while, because he seemed very amused by her situation.

“You supposedly ripped a door off its hinges, and he slept through it, right? You guys are a heck of a pair—he sleeps through doors breaking and you sleep through sex. Just with me or with him too?” He quit talking, so she assumed it was finally her turn to speak.

“We—”

“No”—he threw his hands out to stop her—“forget I asked. My ego can’t take it. I’ll ask one more time: Do you do drugs?”

She waited for him to start monologuing again. He looked at her impatiently.

“Oh, is it my turn now?” she asked. “Are you
finally
allowing me to speak?”

“Only if you say something intelligent.”

“Wow. You are so good at being cruel. I
get
that you don’t like people, that you don’t like
me
. But what about you? Do you hate yourself as much as you hate the world?”

He was still, his face a mask, probably considering which insult to throw at her next. Maybe he’d go low-brow and call her fat. Or say she dresses badly. Nothing had changed. He would never believe anything she said, never be willing to help her.

“Me or the world?” His grin was sad, bitter. “There’s no comparison.” He pushed himself up and flicked his head to the other side as he opened the car door. “Get in.”

She flinched. What? No snappy, demeaning comeback? She was sure he hadn’t run out of insults. “Why?”

“You want my help? Fine, I’ll help. But it’s a limited time offer, and I make all the rules.”

“How surprising,” she muttered. But she’d take the deal. What other choice did she have?

“Get in. And don’t call me Grandpa.”

“How old are you?” She skittered around the back and jumped in before he could change his mind.

“Thirty-one.”

“Hmm . . .” she said, attaching her seatbelt.

“What? I’m thirty-one.”

“Okay, I believe you.”

A tight-lipped grin spread onto his face. “Ah-ha. Anyone over thirty is ancient, right?”

She didn’t comment.

“I need directions.”

“I don’t even know where we’re going.” God, why did she trust him? He’d been very clear that would be a mistake.

“Your house.”

“Why?”

He threw the car into reverse and pulled out. “I want to see this tissue-paper door you took apart and take some measurements. I’m going to buy you a present.”

“What? A strait-jacket? I’d probably take a medium, depending on the cut.”

He smirked. “No strait-jacket.”

“Turn right at the light. Some chains? For my wrists?”

“Thought about it.”

“A cage?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “In a manner of speaking.”

She gripped the door as he took the corner. “In
what
manner of speaking?”

He didn’t answer. Which was not a good sign. Her imagination went into all sorts of nooks and crannies of horrendous plans he might have.

“I can’t be tied up,” she said. “I don’t want to be tied up.” Never again.

He watched her, waiting, like a rattlesnake in the grass. Would she hear the warning rattle before he struck? No, he was too smart to give himself away.  

Despite the danger, Eden smiled at the image of him shaking his tail.
That might be something worth seeing
. She looked out the window. Geez, where were these thoughts coming from?

“Why doesn’t your boyfriend keep a better eye on you? Keep you so busy at night, you don’t want to leave the house?”

“Relationships are complicated.”

“Not all of them. For instance, our relationship is very simple. You are annoying; I am annoyed. See? Totally uncomplicated.”

“Each time we’re together, I’m shocked at how much easier it’s getting to ignore your rudeness,” she said, turning back to him. “Go left on Federal and then take the first right. If I’m so annoying, why are you helping me?”

 “Aside from the fact that you won’t leave me alone?”

“Yes, aside from that.”

“I would have thought you wouldn’t care about
why
I helped you, just that I did.” Mitch’s eyes never left the road.  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I knew the woman who you claim to have murdered.” His knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”
He knew the woman?
She leaned forward to look at him. “Are you . . . emoting?”

“Hardly.”

She righted herself in the seat again and faced forward. Of course, he wasn’t. Mitch didn’t
have
feelings he couldn’t control.

“Were you in love with her?” she asked.

“Again, not your business.”

“It’s the building on the left. Park in front.” She took a breath and prepared to ask a question she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer to. “Mitch, do you think I murdered your friend?” Her heart felt like a dirty napkin someone had wadded up . . .

“Sister.”

. . . and tossed in the trash. She didn’t look at him, didn’t touch him. This was Mitch, not anyone else on the face of the planet. His rules were different. “She was your sister?”

“Indeed.” He put the car in park and slid out.

She opened her own door, using it to steady her nerves. “Why are you helping someone who might have killed your sister?”

“I intend to find out if you’re right.”

Over the top of the car, she asked, “And if I am?”

“If you are?” He slammed the door and looked right into her eyes. “Don’t worry, Eden. It will happen so fast, you won’t feel a thing.” Then he turned and walked toward the dilapidated apartment building.

She shuddered. “Yeah. This is totally uncomplicated.”

How do you respond to a threat like that? Should I send a ‘thanks for the warning’ card? A fruit basket?
Eden was way out of her comfort zone, way out of her
dis
comfort zone, too. Nah, he wouldn’t kill her. He probably wouldn’t even hurt her . . . too badly. She was
nice
, and, while nice people often end up last, they do not inspire violence in others. It just wouldn’t happen. But maybe she should say something to him. Just to make sure.

“Mitch, don’t you think we should talk about this a little?” She ran to catch up with him.

The look on his face hadn’t changed—severe, hollow, dark.

And so she chickened out. She silently led Mitch to the second floor. He was five steps behind her when she got to the door of her apartment.

Her shoulders drooped and she turned around. “I have to go downstairs to get the key. Sleepwalkers—or other personalities—don’t like to carry purses, it seems.”

He stepped to the metal railing, giving her more than ample room to pass. She was at the stairs when she heard Carter’s voice behind her.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Mitch replied.

She turned back to see them staring at each other—Carter filling the doorway, looking wary, Mitch leaning against the rail, looking bored.

“Can I help you with something?” Carter asked.

“It’s me!” She ran back. “I didn’t think you’d still be home. Carter, this is Mitch. He’s the guy I told you about.”
Oops, that could have been handled more delicately.

Carter’s eyes bulged. Then they narrowed. Eden stood between the two men, her body being swayed side to side by the shots of testosterone they were firing at each other. She grabbed Carter’s arm for balance. And to keep him from attacking. Mitch didn’t move.

With her eyes, she pleaded for help.

Carter acquiesced. “Boy, have I been dying to meet you, Mitch.”

Mitch pursed his lips together. “Don’t call me—”

“Oh, he goes by Mitchell,” Eden said in a rush.
Wow, what fun. Why didn’t I do this sooner?

“What, I can’t call you Mitch?” Carter taunted.

“Not if you like the way your pretty little head sits on your pretty little shoulders.”

“Really, boys? I’m not a basketball and this is not the school grounds. Knock it off.” She pushed Carter backwards into the apartment, his body-weight heavy against her palms. “Carter, I told you what happened. There’s no competition here.” After a pause, she felt him relax under her hands.

“Why are you here?” Carter asked Mitch.

Mitch sauntered through the door. “I’m buying your girlfriend a present.”

Carter leaned forward again.

“I said knock it off!” She glanced at Mitch. “Both of you. Carter, he’s here to help me. I got out again last night.”

Carter‘s brows came together. “Shit, I thought you’d gone down to the gym. Sorry.”

She lightly stroked his arm. “It’s not your fault. And Mitch is just here to help. That’s it. Tell him, Mitch.”

Mitch sighed and looked around the living room. “Yep. I’m just the hired help. Without the hired part. Today I’m just a wallet.” He turned around and knocked on the wooden door, smiling. The area surrounding the knob was still wrapped in duct tape. “You guys know someone busted up your door, don’t you?”

“I fixed the deadbolt,” Carter said, glaring.”And the new door is getting here either today or tomorrow. I’m not a magician.” He looked down at Eden. “We don’t need his help.”

“Carter,” she said, “we need all the help we can get. It will be fine.”

“He’ll help and then he’ll leave, got it?”

“I swear to you. He’ll leave.” She saw the bag he carried and his uniform—navy blue sweatpants and t-shirt with “FLPD” in white lettering written across his broad chest. “Did you get the internship at the station?”

His smile was proud. “Yeah, but I don’t start for a few more days. The final exam is on Saturday, so today is just a study group. Then I’d planned on working out. But I’ll reschedule.”

“No, you should go. I don’t think we’ll be long. And Mitch knows he’s not my type.”
When I’m awake,
she added silently. “Right, Mitch?”

“This keeps getting better and better.” He stuck out his hand to Carter. “I’m not here to screw with your territory, man. Aside from some bars and another door.”

Carter reached around Eden and shook Mitch’s outstretched hand, holding it a little too long. “You help. And then you leave,” he growled.