Masters at Arms (3 page)

He chuckled. “No. They’re all for you.”

After she’d finished the second hamburger, he
handed her a soda. She drank half of it before letting go of the
straw and taking a deep breath. She felt so full now she thought
she’d explode.

“That was so good. Thanks.” She smiled at
him. He really was just trying to be nice. Still, she knew to be
leery of strangers, even nice ones. But she also knew she’d have to
learn to trust some strangers, if she was going to make it in New
York. He seemed like a safe one.

Maybe because her brother was in the Army.
Ian would have helped out a scared girl, too, if someone was
bothering her.

“So, where’s home?”

“Here,” she answered, without thinking. “But
I’m going to live in New York.”

“Why New York?”

“They have the best Goth clubs and recording
companies.”

“So you like to sing?”

“Better than anything.”

“What do you sing?”

“Tarja’s music mostly.” She could tell by his
blank stare he had no idea who Tarja Tarunun was. Well, her parents
had no clue either. “She’s the lead singer for Nightwish.” Still
blank. “A metal band from Finland.”

He nodded. “I see.”

No, you don’t
. But he was kinda cute
for pretending he did. She started to crumple up the bag, and then
his hand covered hers to stop her. She felt a weird tingling go up
her arm, almost like being shocked with electricity. Her heart
banged against her chest.

“Look inside. There’s more.”

She reopened the bag and moved the crumpled
wrappers and empty fries box aside. Like opening a Christmas
present. She had a momentary pang of regret, realizing she wouldn’t
be home to open presents this year.

O-M-G, pie!
The box was rust colored.
“Apple or cherry?” she asked.

“Cherry.”

“How’d you know? That’s my favorite!” She
reached in and pulled out the box.

He shrugged and smiled. His eyes lit up
again. “Lucky guess.”

* * *

Adam watched her devour the pie in just a few
bites. He thought teenage boys had voracious appetites. How she
stayed so skinny was beyond him. Of course, she hadn’t eaten all
day. Maybe he should have bought her more to eat.

Man, her parents must be worried sick.

He regretted that he and Joni hadn’t been
able to have children. She’d have been a terrific mom. Tamping down
those thoughts, he looked at the little Goth girl. She wore too
much black. At least her pink hair gave her some color.

“Isn’t your family going to miss you for
Thanksgiving?”
Aw, hell
. He’d gone and asked one of those
fucking nosy questions he didn’t want people asking him.

Watch your language around the kid.

She pulled her lower lip between her teeth.
“They’ll understand.”

Doubtful.

After she’d finished the pie, she put her
garbage into the bag, except for the soda, and started to get up to
throw it away. Adam took the sack and wadded it even tighter, then
lobbed it into the open can at the end of the row. Score! First
basket he’d made since he’d played in high school.

He reached out his hand to her, “We haven’t
been introduced. I’m Master Sergeant Adam Montague, U.S. Marine
Corps. But you can call me Adam.”

She placed her limp hand inside his and they
shook. “Karla Paxton…the next Madonna.” She giggled. “My friends
call me…um, well, Karla’s good.”

He smiled. So naïve. Innocent. He wondered
what her friends called her, but wouldn’t pry. God, the kid wore
her heart on her sleeve. She wasn’t going to last long in New York.
He worried about her going there and wished he could wake her up
with a dose of reality. He’d seen his share of hell in this world
and didn’t want her to have to experience it.

“I’m sure you’ve already lined up a place to
stay in New York. Right?”

She dodged his gaze. “Well, I figured I’d
check in at the YMCA or a youth hostel or something until I find an
apartment.”

“Where do you plan to live after that?”

“Soho.” Her eyes lit up.

Shit
. A dreamer. She’d probably seen
the trendy neighborhood in a movie or music video. “There are lots
of clubs in Soho I could get a job at.”

“I see you’ve done some homework.”
Not
nearly enough, though
. “So, what’s an apartment in Soho going
for these days?” He had no clue, but figured most places in
Manhattan would be way out of range for a teenage runaway.

“Well…” she began, and then looked away, her
brow furrowing. “It’s pretty expensive from what I saw on the Web.
I’ll probably have to find a roommate or two and share
expenses.”

His gut twisted at the vision of her falling
into the clutches of another predator at the Port Authority
terminal. Yeah, they’d give her a place to stay all right.
Fuck
. She needed to go back home and spend Thanksgiving with
a family that loved her. She didn’t seem to be running away from
something so much as running
to
something. She just didn’t
have the patience to wait around to do a little more growing
up.

Of course, he’d run away at sixteen himself.
He’d had to go through a lot of hell and trouble before he’d found
first the Marines and then Joni, both of whom had straightened his
ass out.

At least Karla still has family to be with
for the holidays.

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“Just one brother. Ian. He’s in the Army
National Guard. That’s why…” she looked down at her backpack and
played with the zipper latch.

“Why what?”

She shook her head and smiled, her face
flushing.

“C’mon. Tell me.” He grinned. So fucking hard
to believe there was such innocence left in the world. Certainly
not in his world. Not anymore.

“Well,” she looked him in the eye, her blue
eyes sparkling. She smiled. “That’s why I sat across from you. Your
uniform reminded me of Ian’s.”

Khaki looked about the same for either
branch. Thank God. Adam didn’t want to think what might have
happened if she’d sat somewhere else in the station tonight. If he
hadn’t become aware of her predicament in his post-hangover
haze.

She sighed. “I miss him.” Adam watched as a
single tear trickled down her cheek, leaving a trail of watery
mascara.

“Where is he?”
God, don’t let him be
another fallen hero.
They’d lost too many troops in this damned
war. He tried to remember if she’d said “is” or “was” in the
Army.

“He finished boot camp two months ago. He
can’t tell us where he is yet.”

Adam didn’t realize he’d been holding his
breath until he let it out in a whoosh. “He’s well-trained, I’m
sure. Don’t worry about him. He’ll do fine.”
Like Adam could be
sure of anything these days.
But military families had enough
to worry about without knowing what was really going on.

“I hope so. Are you a hero, Adam?” She smiled
at him just the way Joni had done when he sat at her booth in that
restaurant in St. Paul. Her short black waitress skirt had shown
off the sexiest legs he’d ever seen. She’d confessed later that his
uniform had attracted her, as well. She’d called him her very own
hero warrior.

Damn it. I don’t need hero-worship
responsibility right now.

“I’m nobody’s hero, hon.” Not even Joni’s. He
hadn’t been able to fight the only battle she’d needed him to win
for her. Aw, hell, don’t go there again.

“Aren’t your parents going to be upset when
they find out you’re gone, too?” He hadn’t meant to be so blunt and
felt a pang of guilt when the light went out of her eyes. But at
least he’d wiped the hero worship from her gaze.

“They don’t understand.”

“I’ll bet they understand more than you
know.”

“No, they…”

She gasped as she looked beyond his shoulder.
He looked in the direction of her distressed gaze and saw the pimp
had returned with a couple of his thugs.

Adam smiled.
Bring it on, boys. I’ve got
nothing left to lose.

Then he remembered Karla and knew he couldn’t
let them anywhere near her tonight. He turned back toward her.

“Karla, look at me. Now.” When she finally
dragged her gaze away from the pimp and his scumbag buddies, Adam
said, “Go to the ladies room and stay there until you hear me give
you the all-clear. If there’s a lock on the outside door, use it.
If not, lock yourself in one of the stalls.” Her blue eyes grew as
wide as saucers. She swallowed hard, but sat frozen. Using his
master sergeant’s voice, he growled. “Now!” She jumped, and then
her blank stare focused on his face a second before her hands
clutched her backpack. She ran toward the head.

“Good girl,” he said, though he knew she
didn’t hear him.

With Karla out of harm’s way, he could devote
his full attention to the bilge rats slowly approaching him. He
stood and set his legs, preparing for battle. The one on the far
left held a switchblade. The one on the right wore brass knuckles.
The pimp just wore a cocky smirk.

You may think you have the upper hand, punk.
But I’m going to show you different.

“What’s the matter, soldier boy? Haven’t been
able to get into her pants yet? Mebbe I need to show you some
moves.”

Okay, perv. Now I’m pissed.

“Yeah, I’d like to see that.”

Adam knew his commanding officer would be
pissed, too, if one of his master sergeants was tossed in jail, so
he waited for one of the punks to make the first move. The few
people waiting for buses scattered to the other end of the
terminal, out of danger. Except for the passed-out wino, but he
wasn’t in the way.

Adam didn’t have long to wait. The man
carrying the knife lunged with his body his weapon pointed toward
Adam’s gut. Adam answered with a spinning hook kick to the side of
the man’s head. The knife flew from his hand as he fell to a heap
on the floor.

That should even the odds a little bit.

Movement. Out of his peripheral vision, Adam
saw the dickhead with the brass knuckles move, expanding the area
Adam needed to defend. The first punch headed straight for Adam’s
kidney. He swung away to evade contact. His two-week bender must
have slowed down his reaction time. But at least the impact of the
blow landed on Adam’s shoulder blade and not his kidney. The
dickhead followed with a bare-knuckled blow to his mouth. Adam
groaned at the impact. Focus, man.

Adam stepped back. He needed room. Swing.
Now! His roundhouse kick landed squarely against Brass Knuckle’s
ear. The man reeled sideways until he hit the bank of chairs. He
sat down abruptly, the expression on his face one of stunned
disbelief. Dazed. The man’s eyes glazed over as he curled onto his
side.

Breathing hard, Adam turned toward the pimp.
Now, prick, it’s just you and me.

Once again, Adam waited for the man to make
the first move. Without his bodyguards, he appeared to have lost
his bravado just when it would have become a fair fight. The pimp
backed away from Adam, toward the ticket counter. Adam stalked him
like a puma.

With his peripheral vision, Adam watched two
of Chicago’s finest enter the building with weapons drawn.

“Hands in the air!”

Adam complied, but apparently they knew their
usual suspect and one of the officers had the pimp face down on the
floor, hands cuffed behind his back, within fifteen seconds. Adam
spoke with the second officer briefly to let him know what had
happened. He was grateful they only asked for his name and cell
phone number. They could follow up with him later if they needed
more information.

But Adam needed to make sure Karla was all
right.

* * *

Karla huddled in the bathroom stall. She’d
locked the stall door in hopes of protecting herself if those guys
had come after her.
Yeah, some protection
. The so-called
lock barely kept the door closed for privacy, much less safety.

She couldn’t stop shaking. Her stomach
clenched and heaved. At least there was a toilet nearby if she got
sick. But it was awfully dirty in here.

The sounds of the fight outside brought tears
to her eyes. Adam had only wanted to protect her and now he could
be killed. All because she was stupid and selfish.

I just wanna go home. Please, God, protect
him and help me get back home.

“Hands in the air!” Then silence. No more
grunts, crashes, or groans. Her heart pounded against her chest.
She closed her eyes. The rush of blood pounding in her ears blocked
out any other sound. Tears streamed down her face.

Please let him be all right. Oh, God, let
Adam be all right.

The sound of the bathroom door creaking open
caused her to back up against the tile wall. She held her breath,
hoping they would think she’d left.
Stupid. They know you’re in
here, Kitty. They can see your feet.

“Karla? Hon, you okay?”

The wind gushed out of her lungs. She’d held
her breath so long, she gasped for air several times.
Oh my God.
Adam!

“It’s over. You can come out now.”

She dropped the backpack, fiddled with the
wobbly latch, and opened the stall door. “You’re alive!”

“You know, I think I am.” He sounded
surprised.

Relief was short-lived.
Oh, no!
His
beautiful face! “You’re bleeding!” Blood trickled from his lip down
to his chin.

“I’m fine. How are you doing?”

Me? How can he think about me at a time like
this?

Maybe he was out of his mind from where
they’d hit him in the head. Remembering freshman health class and
all the times she’d watched Mom patch up Ian, Karla rushed to the
sink and pulled out a wad of paper towels, wetting them with cold
water. She blinked away the tears. She’d caused him this pain. If
she hadn’t run away…

When she turned, she realized she’d never be
able to reach his face.