Chapter Five
The mystery man who saved my life had been occupying my head since the incident. He’d shown up in the nick of time and prevented a major tragedy from happening to me.
His speed and moves were effortless and remarkable. He handled those assholes easily, without stress. They were as big and tall as he was, and two against one wasn’t a fair fight. Yet they had their asses handed to them by someone whose blows were powerful enough to crush bricks.
Those fists must be made of steel or something. And up until now, the image of the other man passing out from sheer terror still prompted a smile to my lips. He looked like he’d stared death right in the face and simply couldn’t stand it.
Who exactly was my mystery man, my knight in shining armor? I wished I’d gotten a proper look at his face, but he was so deep in the corner that the shadows shrouded his identity.
I wasn’t sure if that was intentional or not because I didn’t think there was any need to hide himself. Why did he have to conceal his face? It wasn’t like I’d have recognized him if I’d seen him.
Right?
I lay on my back in my room, staring blankly into space with a thousand thoughts tugging at my mind.
How had he known I was in trouble?
How had he shown up at the exact time that I needed help?
You cried out for help, remember? my voice of reason answered.
So, what, he just so happened to have been strolling by when he heard her cry? my voice of curiosity chipped in.
Ever heard of coincidence before? It’s a word. Look it up.
Coincidence? How convenient!
What are you insinuating?
I’m not insinuating anything. It’s just that the timing seems a little too…precise.
My voice of curiosity had a point, but it wasn’t valid enough. The man truly might’ve just been passing through when he heard my cry for help.
In that case, why didn’t he at least respond to me after I thanked him? Why did he choose to keep his identity hidden? If that had been a random encounter and he had been someone I wouldn’t have recognized, he would’ve revealed himself.
Yet, he didn’t.
And why did his presence feel so strangely familiar? I could’ve sworn that we’d crossed paths before; I just didn’t know where or when. Maybe that’s the reason he hid in the shadows—so I wouldn’t recognize him.
The more I tried to recall where I’d sensed that kind of presence, the more confused I got.
You’re channeling your energy in the wrong direction, said my voice of reason. Instead of being grateful to our mystery man, you’re trying to unmask him.
What’s wrong with that? Last time I checked, she’s a journalist, and uncovering what people try to hide is part of the job description, my voice of curiosity shot back.
Yeah, good luck with that.
The voices went silent, and I lay there in the stillness with a pillow to my chest. Nothing made sense to me anymore, especially because I knew something was off about my mystery man but couldn’t prove it.
I tried to let it go, but there was no way in hell that my curious side was going to allow that to happen.
My fingers combed through my messy hair as I rose to my feet and began taking off my clothes. Stark naked, I heaved a sigh and headed into the bathroom, hoping the running water would calm my reeling mind.
It did. A little.
Not long after I stepped out of the shower, the sound of my phone buzzing cut through the silence. It was an incoming call from my friend, Iris Hart.
My lips curled into a smile, the first one in days. “Hey,” I answered, the phone clasped to my ear.
“What’s going on with you?” she asked on the other line, her voice gentle but stern.
“What?” My brows arched.
“You haven’t been on social media for two days…” she began, the words tumbling out in a rush, “…haven’t called me to rant about your research assignment—and according to my sources, you’ve skipped classes. Twice.” A pause. “You and I know that’s unlike you.”
“Your sources? What, are you stalking me now?”
“I’m looking out for my delinquent bestie,” she replied. “There’s a difference.”
Yep. That’s Iris Hart—my analytical friend and the most perceptive individual I’d ever met. Nothing ever went undetected under her radar. It was like noticing patterns, and reading people was her superpower or something.
“Did you get yourself in trouble again?”
“What’s that supposed to mean? When have I ever gotten myself into trouble?” I teased, even though deep down I knew she’d just read my situation like an open book.
“Oh, let’s see…” she began, “that one time when you were chasing down a lead for a story and got trapped in a storage room for hours.”
“Technically, that doesn’t count as getting into trouble.” I laughed.
“I’m not finished yet. There’s more. A lot more.” A pause. “Like when you hit that guy, only to find out later that he was a member of a street gang.”
“That was two years,” I said amidst chuckles. “And I struck the son of a bitch to defend you—or did you forget that part?”
“No. The omission was deliberate. Sue me.”
I rubbed the back of my neck with one hand, my smile broadening.
She chuckled quietly on the other end. “Feeling better now?”
I nodded, as though she could see me. “Yeah, actually.”
“Good. Now, pay up.”
“What?”
“I didn’t pull you out of your depression for free—pay up!”
I laughed so hard that tears formed in my eyes.
She did the same on the other line until her laughter gradually faded into something more solemn. “But seriously, Aria, are you all right?”
I hesitated, contemplating whether or not to tell her the truth. Doing that would automatically put a bullseye on her back as well, and I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to drag her into this mess.
“I’m fine.”
“Say that with a little bit more conviction, and I just might believe you.”
“Really, I’m fine, Iris. I promise.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
No. You’re just good at reading people, I thought to myself.
“You know what, you’ve been indoors long enough,” she said. “Get dressed.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re going to the club.”
“Like hell, we are!” I protested.
“That wasn’t a request,” she replied, her tone laced with finality. “I’ll drop by your place in an hour. You better be ready by the time I arrive.” The call ended.
An abrupt scoff fell off my lips as I sat on the edge of my bed, shocked and amused.
The effrontery.
The audacity.
Classic Iris Hart.
I drew a deep breath and rose to my feet, fingers combing my hair backward. Maybe clubbing wasn’t such a bad idea—maybe it was the distraction that I needed.
Then I heard it. The knock on my front door. My heart skipped a beat, eyes wide with fear and confusion. I stood in my room, frozen in place and unable to decide whether to answer it or not.
I thought that if I ignored whoever was outside long enough, they’d leave.
Or they’ll force their way in, one of the voices in my head said softly.
I swallowed hard, headed out of my bedroom, strolled into the kitchen, and grabbed a knife.
The banging on my door continued.
My fingers closed tightly around the handle of the knife, my breath shaking as I quietly approached my door. I reached for the knob with a slightly trembling hand, the knife hidden behind my back.
The knocking ceased moments before I summoned the courage to yank the door open. My brows arched in disbelief, shock, and surprise as I saw the person standing outside.
It was her.
Iris Hart.
“Tada!” She spread out her arms theatrically, wearing that contagious grin of hers.
“What the hell, Iris? You said an hour!” I barked, relieved that she was the one banging on my door.
“Unlike you, I’m not a terrible liar.” She walked right inside without waiting for an invitation.
“Of course, come on in, Iris; this is your apartment, and you pay the rent,” I said to her, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes, then scanned the dark interior of my living room. “What, did you suddenly develop an allergy to sunlight?” She walked over to my window and then paused, glancing back at me.
I watched her in silence, hiding the knife behind my back.
“Wait a minute,” she said, her eyes squinting. “You’re not gonna go up in flames if I pull these curtains, right?”
“Don’t worry, I have my daylight ring on.” My lips curled into a small smile.
Iris laughed and opened the windows, and the sun streamed in, lighting up the space with its warm, natural glow.
“Why do you have that?” She looked down at my hands tucked behind me.
“Hmm?”
“Don’t play dumb.” She stepped forward. “Why do you have a knife, Aria?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Well…I…I wasn’t sure who was banging on my door, so…”
“I wasn’t banging; I was knocking.”
“It was pretty loud,” I replied defensively.
She halted in front of me, her eyes never leaving mine. “What’s going on, Aria?”
Iris wasn’t kidding this time. The nature of her voice and the genuine concern in her tone made that pretty clear.
I knew she wasn’t going to stop until I told her something. So, instead of telling her the whole truth, I told her a fraction of it.
“I was um…attacked in an alley and almost got…raped.”
“What???” Her eyes widened in a mix of anger and horror.
She reached out and grabbed my hands. “How? When? Where? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did you go to the police? What did they say?” The questions tumbled out of her in a frantic rush as she scanned my body like she was looking for signs of physical assault.
“Relax, I’m fine.” I beamed at her. “My attackers, though…not so much.”
The confusion in her gaze was obvious. “What do you mean?”
“Someone saved me, Iris,” I said. “Someone strong, fast, and skilled.”
“Huh?” She raised her brows.
“He was dressed in a black outfit, and he took down those men in seconds.”
“Lemme guess: He wore a black cape and a bat costume,” she teased.
“I’m serious, Iris,” I insisted.
She looked into my eyes for a moment, as if searching for the truth. “Whoa, you’re not kidding.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Does this mean Chicago has a superhero?” Her eyes lit up. “Did you get a good look at him?”
“No, it was dark, and he was in the shadows.”
“So how’d you know it’s a ‘he’ and not a ‘she’?”
“Because I know a man when I see one.”
“Damn,” she murmured under her breath. “I’m just glad that our mystery man showed up when he did. I can’t imagine what would’ve happened if he hadn’t.” She pulled me into her embrace.
I hesitated but eventually threw my arms around her, and we held on to each other tightly.
“I am so sorry that you almost experienced that,” she whispered.
“Don’t make this weird.” I slip out of her arms, a faint grin tugging at my lips.
“Well, forgive me for trying to be supportive,” she said sarcastically.
We both chuckled.
Iris stayed with me for the rest of the day, and later that evening, she helped me choose a dress. By the time we left the house after sundown, that quiet tension came creeping back inside me.
While getting into the car with Iris, I caught myself scanning the street without realizing it. It was almost like I was expecting to see someone watching. As the vehicle drove away, I caught sight of a manly figure across the road, lurking in a shadowy corner.
Was he my mystery man?
Was he watching me? Or was I just being paranoid?