Last straws

Nefretiri

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!" Covering my mouth, I rush to the front of the stroller, dropping my headphones on the ground.

What have I done? I crashed into the side of someone's truck! The impact was so hard it woke the baby, and now she was screaming her lungs out. Oh god, is she hurt? Hurriedly, I unbuckle the straps, pull her into my arms, and check her over. No, she isn't hurt; she's just angry that I woke her up from her nap.

Now that I'm sure Penelope's alright, I turn to the truck, sobbing harder in relief when I see that I didn't damage it. It's the last straw, the final fuck up of the day, and I can't stop crying. The last thing I could afford to do right now was pay for someone's car repairs, especially when the people were inside watching me. Finally, the passenger opens their door, and I back away quickly, nearly tripping over myself, holding the stroller for support with my free hand. My whole body jerks in pain, only making me cry more.

"I'm so sorry!" Somehow, I managed to control my crying and wipe my eyes. I had to stop this. I'll never stop crying if I don't reign in my emotions. "I should've been paying attention. I didn't damage your car!"

Out of habit, I lower my head in submission. It's the same sickening move I make when dealing with Ricky. How fucked up am I that I can't look anyone in the eye? A second door opens and shuts; I'm guessing it's the driver. So, I repeat my apology, my throat stinging from the scream that won't come.

"It's okay." A man's voice speaks, and I freeze. It's so rich and masculine that I have to look up. An incredibly tall man was walking toward me, a concerned look on his handsome face. "Are you alright?"

My body jerked forward, and I had to stop myself so I wouldn't fall into his arms. Am I so desperate for comfort and affection that I'd beg for it from a stranger? 

"Yeah." I look terrible. I'm sure my mascara was probably running, my eyes are bloodshot, and I'm not crying those delicate tears. "I'm so sorry."

"It's alright, beautiful." The man repeats what he's said, touching my cheek so gently it startles me. Electric shocks brush my skin where he's feeling me, but they're not unpleasant. Still, I flinch away from the contact. It's too intimate for a stranger, especially when he starts tracing delicious tiny circles on my jaw with his thumb. "Please, let me check if you're okay."

"I didn't get hurt." What's wrong with me? The guy looks so pained when I back away from him, and that look makes me want to return. I wanted to let him touch me, and it felt so good to have someone show me even an ounce of attention. His touch made everything melt away, even the pain. "It's just been an awful day. This was just the icing on the cake."

We stare at each other for a long moment, neither saying anything. He looks like he's hurting, with a haunted, mournful expression that breaks my heart. It makes me want to rush to him, hug him so tightly that he feels something other than sorrow. But instead, I turn away from the intense pull and settle Pen-Pen back in the stroller. She's stopped crying, waving her arms at me like she wants me to pick her up again. 

"Here." The woman who was with the guy walked up to me, handing me a tissue. I take it gratefully, trying for a smile. It isn't easy with as much pain as I'm in. "I've got a few more if you need them."

"Thanks." 

"And what about you, sweet pea? Are you alright?" She crouches before the stroller, touching Penelope's tiny hand with a smile. She was such a beautiful woman. Long wavy chocolate hair, delicate feminine features, body celebrities would kill for, and the kindest, deep brown eyes I've ever seen. "Do we need to trade insurance for damages to your stroller? Huh, pretty girl?"

The joke makes me cry again, and suddenly, the guy is beside me. His hands are touching me again. Those delicious sparks attack me, and the pain fades away. Turning my body toward him, I risk looking up into his face. He's so beautiful. There's no other word to describe him. Those are the darkest blue eyes I've ever seen, and I'm mesmerized by them. His features are defined, making him look like he was carved instead of born. 

Long dark brown hair was tied back in a ponytail, but his bangs hung loosely around his face, obviously too short to control, and my fingers itched to comb through them. His skin was a golden tan, like he spent a lot of time outside, and are men supposed to have lips that look like velvet and make your imagination crave a taste? Don't get me started on his body. The guy was. Is there a better word for perfect? He radiates power, and his body reflects that. 

His size is intimidating, easily over six feet. I'd be shocked if he weighs under two hundred pounds, but it's all pure muscle. Gods, he's built, with broad shoulders and muscular arms, but not so bulky he looks ridiculous. I bet he could pick me up with one hand. I only want to keep staring at him, but I think he'd notice I was checking him out. 

Both are breathtakingly beautiful, and I understand the power beauty can have for the first time. They must be a couple.

"How old is she?" The woman's voice brings me back to reality, and I turn from him, taking a step back so he can't touch me. The action almost makes me cry again. "She's so tiny."

"Um... A week." 

"A week?" The guy's voice sounds suddenly angry. The richness is gone and replaced with something more gravelly. "And you're walking around with her?"

"I'm used to it." Why does he care if I'm walking? It sucks, but it's not a crime. "I don't have a car, so I'm used to it."

"That's not right." His anger makes me uncomfortable. I don't think he'll hurt me, but it seems so out of place. 

"Um... I should go inside before it gets late." Taking the stroller's handles, I push it away, keeping my head down, but I stop and turn to face them. "I'm sorry about hitting your truck. Thank you for not chewing my head off."

"I'd never do that, beautiful." He comes closer, looking from me to the stroller. "Do you think I can come in with you?"

"Oh... um... no. I'm fine, really. As I said, it's been a bad day, and you know, a new baby. My emotions were everywhere, and she had a C-section... I've taken up enough of your time." 

"We'd really like to help." The woman smiles kindly at me. "We're going in anyway."

"No, no... Thank you, though. I should... I really need to go." I go to leave again, but the guy puts a hand on my arm, and the sparks assault me, leaving me rooted to the ground.

"I don't want you to be alone." The way he talks to me, it's like he's known me forever. It makes me want to obey every one of his commands, but I can't. Finally, he let me go and walked to the front of the stroller, crouching in front of my daughter and peering inside. "Hey, sweetheart, aren't you a pretty girl? Can you convince your mom to let us help her?"

Penelope grunts at him, reaching her hands up like she wants him to hold them. The guy obeys, taking one of them with his fingers. A strange look crosses his face, and he looks from me to her before taking Penelope's other hand.

"She's strong." He murmurs, and I can't help the sense of pride. "Stronger than any baby I've seen before."

"She is." Considering how her life started, Penelope was stronger than anyone else. Suddenly, the guy frowns, and I tense up. Oh god, don't let him see the scar on her wrist!

"What happened here?" He demands, and I swear his voice sounds like he's growling. He lifts Pen-Pen's arm to show me the long scratches on her delicate skin.

"Cat." That's a fucking lie, but I don't owe anyone any explanations. Especially not strangers. 

"A cat... And what about you? Did a cat do that to you?" There was no way he could see the scars on me, and the shirt was hiding them. But, when he gets up, he points to my shoulder. Fuck, did I miss a bruise with the cover-up? "That doesn't look like a scratch."

"Oh!" I realize what it is when I put my hand on it. "I, um, got burned by my hair straightener last month. That's the scar."

I wasn't going to tell this guy that Ricky was the one who burned me with it. But I don't think he's buying it because he looks even angrier, and I'm sure there's something off this time. A loud growl comes from his throat, and his eyes turn black, not just his irises but the whites.

Werewolf! No wonder he's so angry. To their kind, hurting an infant is a heinous crime! Oh fuck, I can't get involved with werewolves. I need to get away from them!

"I have to go." This time, I won't stop. My body burns from the pain. As if each step away from the guy is flaring up the broken bones, I refuse to stop, even when he calls for me to wait. So I tug on the cord of my poor headphones and stick them in my ears, drowning out the sound of his voice.