What I've Done (12 page)

“Little girl, I don’t know who you are, but you sho’ don’t look like you belong here.” His deep voice thunders and his bushy eyebrows knit together at the bridge of his nose when he scowls.

I manage to choke the words out. “I…I’m looking for someone that can help me.”

“My boy says you ain’t got no money.”

He crosses his massive arms, waiting for me to answer. The man is so large he could easily swallow me whole. I try not to let his size intimidate me. I remind myself I am not here to start any kind of trouble, so I won’t be coming off as any kind of a threat; not that my miniscule size would appear to be any kind of threat to him.

I try my hardest to speak casually so as not to let him hear the fear pulsating through me. “Not yet, but I am working and would be able to get you some money soon. I need to get a job to support myself and my little sister.”

His scowl deepens. “You expect me to help you when you ain’t got no money?”

His voice is filled with anger and I can feel the rising tension radiating from inside him. I recoil in fear, my voice of reason finally being heard. He takes a large step closer, his dark eyes narrowing into small slits, and his hand reaches for the bulge at his waistline.

“You some kind of narc? Because a little girl like you ain’t got no business coming down here all alone.”

My heart begins pounding so rapidly I am afraid it will leap out of my throat and my stomach seems to drop like lead. I realize I am probably about to be the subject of great bodily harm and maybe had been a bit bold in thinking I could go into a rough neighborhood on my own.

I have never taken any kind of self-defense classes although we briefly talked about what to do once in health class. But I don’t have a pair of keys to stab him with and it is physically impossible for me to knee him in the groin as large as he is. My hands become cold and clammy as I try to think a way out of this very unfortunate event.

As his hands curl around the gun at his waistline, I decide coming down here was probably the last mistake I will ever make.

CHAPTER 6

I am mere seconds from likely being shot when the hulking man in front of me takes his hand away from the gun to cover both of his eyes. An extremely bright light flashes from over my shoulder and when I turn to look for the source I have to shield my own eyes.

“She’s not alone,” another male voice says from behind me.

A young, sandy blond haired guy steps out and lodges himself between me and the menacing mass of a man. My new hero’s back is so close he is nearly pressed up against me. All I can see of him from the back is his head full of thick, tousled hair and an evenly tanned neck. He is much taller than I am although significantly shorter than my would-be-attacker. Some kind of wonderful smell comes off of him, appealing to my senses quite well. I try to brush any excited feelings away, reminding myself I am in imminent danger.

Shorty removes his hands from his eyes and grumbles, taking a step back. “Well then get her out of here, man. She’s got no business in this neighborhood.”

“I completely agree. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

The stranger turns in my direction and I intake a breath of air sharply when his features are revealed to me. His nose, cheeks and jaw are perfectly angular, his face finished off by a set of full, rosy lips. He does not seem the type that would be living in the hood, dressed in dark board shorts, thick canvas flip-flops and a light blue t-shirt with a picture of the musician Jack Johnson playing a guitar. The fact that he is wearing a picture of my idol does nothing to curb his appeal.

He throws me a quick look, flashing his cool blue eyes that are buried among long, thick eyelashes. He is so breathtakingly gorgeous that I almost literally forget to allow my lungs to breathe out.

The next moments are very dream-like as he grabs me roughly by my arm and pulls me away from my near-death experience. We are completely away from the dark alley when he reels on his feet to face me. It takes a full minute of looking past his gorgeous features to realize he is angry.

“What are you doing here alone? Do you know how close you were to being shot or stabbed? What exactly were you thinking?”

The handsome stranger is fuming but it is hard to really focus on the anger coming from him when I am so completely drawn to his pleasing eyes. I don’t recall ever seeing a man with such thick eyelashes or such delightfully colored eyes.

“I…I don’t know.”

But I am more perplexed as to why I have to answer to him or why he even cares. I hadn’t seen him approaching us in the alley and do not know what direction he even came from. Had he been watching me the entire time?

“You have to be more careful.” He pauses to give me another disappointed glare. Why it bothers me so much coming from someone I have just met, I can’t say. But it does. “Where do you live? I’ll take you home.”

I laugh with my eyes still fixated on his. They certainly are captivating as the blue pools hold my gaze. “You think I’m going to let a total stranger take me home?” I feel redness creeping into my face but who knows if it is from being angry or if I am just completely flustered by his presence.

“But apparently you have no qualms about meeting with one in a dark, random alley.”

He stands close enough that I am able to smell his wonderfully fresh breath. I look away from him when his lips become a kissing distance away from my own. By taking a small step away from him I am able to break away from the unexplained pull toward him.

I mentally shake my head to clear the cloud that has formed around my brain. Who is this gorgeous stranger, and why is he so mad at me?

“Thanks for saving me, but I can find my way home just fine.”

My knight in not-so-shiny armor sighs and appears to collect himself. “I’m sorry. I was just upset to see someone like you about to be murdered. I didn’t mean to come off as crass.”

He looks back down at me, his face still hard with scorn.

I spin around and begin to walk away from him. “Don’t worry about it. I better get going.”

It is frustrating that I have irritated this handsome stranger when all I want to do is see what his lips feel like against mine. I have to stifle a laugh when I realize I am even having such thoughts about him. They are absurd when I am only just meeting him for the first time.

The look in his eyes morphs into a kindness that seems to be pleading with me to forgive him. “Can I at least walk you back to somewhere a little less dangerous?”

I am too blinded by his looks to make a true judgment of his character, just as I had been with Gabe. But this guy had been brave in saving me from my impending doom and could have been killed just as easily as I had by the monster of a man back there. It would seem pointless for him to save me just so he could murder me—or so I tell myself.

“Sure,” I answer cautiously.

“Let’s go this way,” he says, leading me by my arm again. “Where can I take you?”

I feel a tingle when his skin brushes against mine. It similar to the charge I feel when Gabe holds my hand or touches my skin. We turn out of the final alley onto a less threatening sidewalk, out of the neighborhood. I have to speed my pace to keep up with his long strides.

“I have to get back to work.”

I already let Kalia down the day before and I need to get back so she won’t fire me. I glance down at my watch to see I have almost used up the entire hour Kalia had granted me.

“Where do you work?”

His voice is a little higher, as if he is amused to hear that someone like me works. But I don’t think I look anywhere near well off or anything like that based on my simple appearance, so I can’t fathom what “someone like me” looks like to him.

I cross my arms in front of my chest stubbornly even though it is my very first job and I had only been there a few hours. “What? I don’t look like someone that could work?”

“No, that’s not it…forget it.” All at once he must detect just how much I have to scurry to keep up with him. He slows his walking speed and I am able to relax a little.

“I work at a surf shop on Pacific Beach.”

A funny sort of recognition plays on his face at my answer. He is still holding on to my arm but I snatch it away from him. He is definitely attractive, but it seems as if Gabe and I could have something going eventually and I don’t want to give this guy the wrong idea.

“Do you surf?”

He sounds amused at the idea. I tell myself it is my still somewhat pale skin that makes it hard to envision me as the surfing type. Everyone I have met in California has a deeper and healthy glow to their skin, this guy being no exception. Hopefully the time Rose and I have been spending at the beach would eventually bring the same glow to my own skin.

“No,” I answer. “But a friend is going to give me lessons.”

He chuckles, as if to himself. “I’d love to see that.”

This guy is seriously difficult to read. Why he is so amused by my ability or inability to do anything has me puzzled.

“You don’t even know me. For all you know I could be a serious athlete.”

He turns to smirk at me. “Are you a serious athlete?”

“No.” I blush when he calls me on it. He laughs in his deep voice and turns back to the sidewalk ahead of us. We are far away from the questionable part of the hood we had been in. I can’t decide if he intends to walk me all the way to the shop. We walk along in silence for a couple of minutes, both of us busy with our own thoughts.

“I’m Eli, by the way,” he says by way of introduction.

“Tasha,” I reply. “What exactly was it you were doing back there?”

“I had to visit a friend in the neighborhood. You never told me what you were doing there. What kind of business did you have with that big guy back there?”

He is scolding me in a way that reminds me of my friend Tasha’s father. Her dad seemed to be angry at Tasha quite often but Tasha told me it was more of a protection thing and he usually doted on her.

“You mean Shorty? He and I go way back,” I tease. Eli scowls at me with disbelief so I lift one shoulder the slightest bit, brushing him off. “I was hoping he could help me with something.”

“Well you don’t look like the kind of person who is into drugs, but something tells me that guy doesn’t sell knock-off handbags, either.”

He assesses me again with those cool blue eyes and I try hard not to let him see me shiver.

“I’m trying to help a friend of mine out. She was too scared to go into that neighborhood on her own, but she really needed some papers that are difficult to find.”

I scold myself for hinting a bit too much at the real truth.

“Promise me you won’t go back there.” He stops walking to pin me down with his eyes. “I mean it, Tasha. There has got to be some other way for you to get what she needs. If you go back there it is likely you will either get murdered…or something else I don’t even want to think about.”

I study his expression carefully. For having just met me he seems unusually protective. Is California filled with guys who are hopelessly attracted to girls in need of some kind of saving? That would at least explain why the state is so overpopulated.

I give him my best dramatic sigh. “Okay, I promise.”

He exhales in relief. “Maybe I can help you. What exactly is she looking for?” As he continues to hold my gaze, there is an unexplained feeling that I can trust him coursing through me.

“It’s kind of like top secret. She could get into a lot of trouble if anyone found out.” I am not always so convincing when making up lies like this on the fly, so I hope he will accept it is for someone other than me.

“Who am I going to tell? I don’t know you or this friend whose name I don’t even know.”

A sly smirk plays on my lips. “You could be an under-cover cop.”

“Ah, yes, because this is like an episode of Law and Order, right? I can tell by your accent that you are not from around here, Tasha. This may be California, but Hollywood is still miles away.”

His voice is teasing but his expression remains grave. I decide that I like it better when he is mocking me. His smile and deep rolling laugh do even more amazing things to please my senses.

I narrow my eyes at him. “I so do not have an accent.”

Someone from another state once told me the same thing, but as far as I can tell I sound just like everyone else on television. People from Minnesota aren’t a bunch of stereotypical Norwegians that always say dumb things like “you betcha” and “ya know.” That is a North Dakota thing.

“Sure you do. You just don’t hear it, I guess. Where are you from? Iowa?”

“No!” I yell in surprise. How had he guessed so close to the truth? Embarrassed, I tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “I have actually lived all over. My parents are both Marines.”

It is easiest to keep my lies straight if I stick to the same stories I told Gabe, but the lie now sounds ridiculous to my own ears.

“What would your friend need forged papers for? What is she running from?”

His bemused eyes sparkle in the sunlight, making me think he isn’t falling for my stories after all. He even seems to be putting more emphasis on the word friend.

“She has the kind of life you need to escape from,” I answer truthfully. “She just wants a chance to start over and live a happy life, once and for all.”

I think I probably blink too many times when the truth begins to resonate from me.

“Tell me about it.” He mumbles more to himself than to me. He scratches his head as he thinks for a minute. “I think I know of someone that can help you. Are you free later tonight?”

He peers up at me with those amazing eyes, making me want to tell him I am free anytime he wants me. I bite my lip thoughtfully. I really need to get my hands on those new identifications for us, but am I seriously going to trust this total stranger to help me? I absently chew on my already stubby fingernails as I think it over.

“I could bring him by the surf shop where you work.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “He’s more the type of guy you should be doing business with.” His feet kick at something on the sidewalk as I ponder his latest proposal.