1 Chapter 1
I sat on the dirty, sticky floor of the deserted train station platform, body slumped against the cool, graffiti-covered wall, and heedless of my second-hand suit as two o’clock loomed on a Sunday morning. How much more fucked could my life become?
Maybe I shouldn’t ask that question, though, with my recent track record, especially today. My boyfriend of two years broke up with me on Facebook, of all places, just because. He was hotter than hell, but that came with jerk-dom. Then the asshole of all bosses stole my creative ideas for an upcoming million-dollar marketing campaign, and when I had confronted him an hour ago, because we all worked ridiculous hours, seven days a week, he had called me a liar and put me on work probation. So, I quit.
And now…
The last train had just left, along with the fleeting dregs of my dignity, ten minutes ago as I’d run down the steps, then slipped and landed on my butt after bouncing a foot or two, all while everyone else rushed by in desperation, pushing and shoving. I was sore and knew I would have an ugly bruise on my ass by morning, but the discomfort paled in comparison to having to walk four miles to my dingy apartment. In black patent leather dress shoes that mercilessly squished my toes.
Why not take a ride-sharing service? Because of the bad experiences I’d had every single time, including theft, unhinged carpool passengers, and drivers who couldn’t find their way around a city, even with GPS yelling “turn fucking left” in their ears. Enough was enough. I’d rather crawl than endure that ever again.
It took me another ten minutes, along with the footsteps of someone coming down the stairs—likely transit police—to finally get off my duff and make my presence known before they cited me for something. It would be the perfect end to a miserable week, and the start of another. I was let out of the station under the suspicious eyes of the tired and irritated-looking personnel, and I slowly made my way across the street to start the long trek home.
After an hour and fifteen minutes, I was closing in on my apartment building across the street when someone grabbed me from behind, forced me against his hard body, wrapped a bulky arm around my neck, and placed a gun to the side of my head.
Something inside me snapped.
* * * *
Panting heavily some minutes later, I watched my would-be assailant limp-run away from me, swearing loudly and calling me a crazy person. As if I had been the one with the gun. And body odor. But he may have had a point.
I hadn’t realized there was so much anger inside me. All the frustration and desperation from a day gone shit-side up had come out in my fists, and the kicks to the guy’s ribs…I disgusted myself.
The apartment building was too close and too far away at the same time. I took a breath and trudged toward it, praying not to collapse before I reached the lobby.
“Hey man, you okay?” a deep voice said.
I stopped and turned toward the speaker. There was a guy leaning against a nondescript car parked at the curb in front of my destination, staring at me. I could barely make out his face in the streetlight across the way, but he was a big guy. And he had witnessed my loss of control. Crap.
“Oh, man. You saw that?” I had probably appeared unhinged, and my clothes hadn’t weathered the fight well. My tie was missing, too.
“Yeah.” He laughed. “I was driving by and happened to look over when I heard a loud noise. I saw a trash can rolling on the ground, and the two of you duking I out. I parked and was about to go over and help, but you had it handled.”
The man slowly walked toward me, probably trying not to cause alarm. He was still mostly in shadow. “Seriously, you look like you’re about to fall over. Can I help you home, or something?”
Kindness from a stranger. After the past twenty-four hours, his gesture almost made me weepy. “Thanks, but I live in this building.” I pointed to it before covering my face with both hands, which were shaking, likely from leftover adrenaline. “Shit. Fuck my life.”
“You sound like you’ve had a rough time, aside from almost being robbed, or worse.”
“Dude.” I sighed, and for some reason, the man made me want to spill all my secrets. The whole mess came tumbling out, like puke. “I have a fiver in my wallet, and my bank account has maybe fifty dollars in it. I quit my job tonight—this morning—because my boss is a prick who wouldn’t recognize honor if it was shoved up his ass. My boyfriend broke up with me on social media. Having that guy try to rob me just now was the last straw.”
“I bet,” said the stranger, who sounded sympathetic, and I wished I wasn’t so pitiful. “How about I help you get to your place? It’s the least I could do. Show you there are still nice people in the world.”
God, his voice. Kind of gritty and low, and made me want things that were inappropriate for our very brief acquaintanceship. And he was nice. I had the worst luck lately.
