Page 65 of Without You

Quite the inspector I am.

I turn my key over so my battery starts up, allowing me to roll down my window a crack. I turn it back off because a dead battery on top of a flat tire would certainly make this day suck even worse. Through the three inch crack I opened, I say, “Yes?”

“Problem, miss?”

“Nope. Perfectly fine, thank you!” I shout, pushing the button for the window to roll back up and leave me in the silence of my miserable life. Okay. It’s not miserable but the past ten minutes have sincerely sucked big time.

Another knock.

I roll my eyes as I push the button. Again. Seriously, how annoying!

“Do you have a problem?” I ask. “Something I can help you with?”

“Well, you see,” the torso bends down and I see a glimpse of his face, though it’s shadowed by the ball cap he’s wearing, “I was really in the mood to change a flat tire today, brush up on those basic life skills. Happen to know anyone around needing that type of work done?”

“It just so happens, Mr., that I do…” I see his smug grin and add, “not. I do not know anyone who needs help. I’ll let you know if I find anyone, though!”

Up goes my window again.

Has this guy ever heard of stranger danger? I mean, honestly! This is the twenty-first century! A person does not just simply accept help from a random stranger, no matter how nice they’re trying to be. That’s like the actual definition of how most serial killer shows begin. It’s never the guy who threatens people. It’s the good looking, secretly sinister man — or woman.

Another knock and I growl, this time grabbing my small can of mace out of my purse before getting out of my car in such a hurry that it makes him stagger backward. Lifting the can in his direction, I plant my feet wide. “Listen, man. Take a hint, okay? I don’t know you. I’m not about to accept your help only to be tied up, raped, thrown in your trunk, and then buried in the desert.”

It’s like he’s not even afraid of the mace I could blind him with! He just chuckles then… “Desert?” he asks, his voice like melted chocolate. I narrow my eyes. Is he seriously mocking me right now?

“Yes, desert. Now. If you don’t mind…”

“Actually, I do mind. I’m sorry if I offended you or scared you. I have a spare that I think will fit your car and I’m perfectly capable of helping you.” He looks around and points to the café behind us. “As you can see, there are plenty of people around and I promise you I’m not a serial killer.”

“That’s what all serial killers say.”

“True, true. But I mean it.” He lifts his fingers in the air with a grin that’s actually quite attractive. “Scout’s honor.”

“Ugh! Fine. Fine! You can help me, but I’m watching you,” I add on with a glare.

“Wow. Such a generous offer.”

“I’m Katie, by the way,” I say, extending my hand.

He looks at it then up at me. “Nice to meet you, Katie.”

When he doesn’t tell me his name, I give him an odd look. “And your name?”

“Right. Elijah.”

“Nice to meet you, Elijah. And honestly, thank you for offering to help me. I was rude earlier and that wasn’t called for. I’m sorry.”

He shrugs. “It’s fine. Good to be alert and weary of people. I don’t blame you.”

“Still.”

“Forgotten. Should we get started?”

“Oh. Yeah. Thank you, again.”

“You’re welcome.”

I help Elijah do his thing after he gets all the things from the trunk of his car. I help get the tire over to my car and the flat one I lift and place in the trunk of my car. I might not have had the tools to do the work, but that certainly doesn’t mean I can’t be helpful.

---