Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Life sucks. That’s my official take on today. It literally couldn’t suck anymore if I were stuck in the middle of a vortex being sucked up into some alternate reality. Actually, an alternate reality would be a welcomed change. Anything would be better than where I’m at right now.
I guess today the universe thought they’d throw me the curveballs of all curveballs. A welcome to New York, let’s see just how tough you are kind of curveball.
“Ma’am, we can file a report, but there is very little chance we will get your purse back. I advise you to contact your bank, cancel and reorder all of your credit cards,” the officer at the counter says.
“I’m standing here with half my face bruised, my clothes torn, and scrapes all over my body… and there is nothing you can do other than ask me to file a report that won’t even lead me to getting my things back?” My voice rises.
I’m getting frustrated. I’m almost ready to cry. This day has been hell in a handbasket. I don’t yell at people. I never lose my cool, but I’m about to blow.
“Ma’am, do you need medical attention? I can call the paramedics,” the officer says.
“Oh yeah, because adding a medical bill to my already shitty day is just what’ll make everything better.” Taking a breath in, I try to regain my composure. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not your problem,” I tell her before turning and walking out of the police station.
This is when the first tear falls. My vision goes blurry as I get to the sidewalk. I don’t even know where I’m going.
I hit a wall. Instinctively, I flinch and back away because that wasn’t a wall. It’s a man, and his hands are around my arms.
“Whoa, you okay?” a deep voice asks.
I shake out of his hold and take another step backwards before lifting my gaze to his.
Holy fucking fireman. What on God’s green earth is this creature?
He’s tall, like well over six feet. Probably comes from a bloodline of giants.
Piercing blue eyes and dark sandy-blonde hair that’s tussled.
The man is dressed in a well-fitted suit.
Tattoos peek out of the collar and up the sides of his neck.
His face is hard, and his jaw ticks as those same piercing eyes scan my features. And then I remember what happened to me. I look like shit. This god of a man is staring at me and I must look like a half-dead rat.
“What the fuck happened to you, solnishko?” he asks.
One of his hands reaches out to touch my face. I pull back. “I’m sorry. I… I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“That’s not what I asked. Who did this to your face?” He looks mad. I get that I bumped into the guy, probably inconvenienced him. But, jeez, overreacting much? I really hope this is not what all New Yorkers are going to be like…
“Look, I’m sorry. I’m just having a really shitty day and I was coming out of there.
” I wave a hand towards the police station, not that they were helpful.
“I wasn’t watching where I was going. It was totally my fault.
But, and I mean this in the nicest possible way, that doesn’t warrant you getting pissy at me. It was an accident.”
This is the kind of man who should be wearing a neon stranger danger sign around his neck.
“Solnishko, you think I’m pissy because you bumped into me? No, I’m pissy because I asked you a question and you have yet to answer it,” he says.
My brows draw down in confusion. “What was the question?”
“Who did this to your face?” he repeats, his expression still hard as stone.
“I don’t know. I was mugged. Hence why I just came here thinking the police would do something. A lot of good that did me.” I roll my eyes.
“You were mugged?” the man asks.
“Uh-huh, I guess that’s nothing new in this city, right?” I shake my head. “Anyway, sorry again.”
When I go to step around him, he blocks my path. “Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“Which is where?” he presses.
“Ah, I might be new to this city and all, but I’m not stupid enough to tell a complete stranger where I live. No matter how good looking that stranger is.”
“You think I’m good looking?” The guy smirks, and I swear I feel it in my core.
How to tell it’s been too long since you’ve seen any action: You get horny when a hot guy smirks at you. Which is weird when you’re not the type of person who ever gets horny. Sex is not exactly my favorite thing to do.
“Please, let’s not pretend that you don’t have mirrors,” I mutter under my breath.
“How are you planning on getting home if you just got mugged? Have you seen a doctor?”
“I’m going to walk. Obviously.”
“Is it far?”
“Is Riverdale far from here?” I honestly have no idea where I am or how I’m going to get back to my apartment.
The man laughs. “You’re not walking to Riverdale, solnishko. Give me five minutes. Wait here with my friend Aleski, and I’ll take you home.”
I narrow my eyes. “Why would you do that?”
“Because Riverdale is at least a five-hour walk. You’ve already been mugged once today. You really want to chance it again?” He raises a brow at me.
“I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Neo, and you are?”
“Caitlyn.”
“Well, Caitlyn, it’s nice to meet you. Wait right here. I won’t be long.” Neo turns to his friend and says something in a foreign language. It sounds Russian and then he storms into the police station I just walked out of.
“Is he a lawyer or something?” I ask Aleski.
“Or something.” The man chuckles. “Would you be more comfortable waiting in the car?” He holds open the back door of a very fancy SUV for me.
I chew on my bottom lip, the whole don’t get into cars with strangers lesson creeping up into the back of my mind. But I don’t know how else I’m going to get home. I have no phone, no money. Nothing.