Page 30 of Night Blind

“Good enough,” he said, going to the bedroom. He didn’t lock the door because he also knew what would come next. It took nearly fifteen minutes for her to get up her courage to knock on the door. “Yes?”

“Uhm, I…,” she started.

“All you have to do is ask, Helen. Tell me what you need.”

“Comfort? Not sex, just some comfort if you’d be willing?”

She heard the covers in the dark along with the sound of a hand patting the bed. The lamp on the nightstand flashed on, and there he was in the bed, all full of manliness. His chest had just enough hair to compliment the ripples of muscles that seemed to bump up from under his skin. Suddenly, her need for comfort was replaced by a bit of fear.

“Behave yourself,” he warned as she climbed in and scooted closer to him. Strong arms wrapped around her body sending her back to the feeling of protection in his arms when he had lifted her from the ground and rescued her from the nightmare after her captivity. She imagined this was how Cherry must feel at night lying down beside Slow.

“You smell amazing,” she said, allowing her finger to run over the bumps and lumps of muscles.

“Well, I did just shower.”

“No, you smell like a night of pillow biting and a good time,” she said, thinking she’d made a mistake getting into bed with him, yet her hands roamed over his midsection.

“Hey, have you ever seen that video of the little kid with his babysitter?” he asked, “The little boy is trying to make a point, and he is saying listen, Helen…Helen, listen, listen, Helen. I feel like that little boy. Listen, Helen! You stop touching me like thator you are going to activate my mighty muscle, and I have no plans to use it today, not with you.”

She leaned back, looking at him. “Okay, hurt my feelings.”

“No, Helen, the circumstance is terrible,” he said. “To act on what you’re feeling or experiencing for whatever reason is a bad one. In a year, after you’ve had some time to heal, and you still want to take a ride on this powerful stallion, I’ll send you a ticket to come to me. Or better yet, I’ll send you a ticket and we can meet wherever you choose, a small island, a winery, or a chalet nestled in the mountains, but you have a mutherfucker to handle. You don’t need to be dick sore before going to do it.”

“Dick sore?”

“Yeah, I have a big one, and your little tight body will be sore as hell when I’m done, so leave the stallion alone. Rest in my arms, get some sleep, and get your mind out of the gutter,” he told her.

She found herself giggling. “Dick sore. I’m going to remember that.”

“Hmhm,” he said, closing his eyes, then reaching for the lamp. “You’d remember my stallion too. Sleep. It’s hard to see in dark places, Helen, so you need to stay sharp.”

“Are you saying I’m night-blind, Mustang?”

“I’m saying that the lighting is poor, and the journey is long,” he told her.

Helen said no more. The comfort he offered, she accepted, holding onto him as if he were a life raft. In the middle of the night, he turned to his back, pulling her across his chest. She rested there, listening to the steady beat of his heart, thankful he was here with her. She was thankful for many things, and while he slept, she provided five additional small kisses on his cheek.

Chapter 11 - Level

Mustang considered himself to be a patient person with a level head. He’d found it difficult to find a woman he could tolerate, and he used the word loosely, that he could stomach for more than two days. By the second day, he wanted them, the underwear they were stashing all over his home, and the constant scrolling on their phones for conversation bits to be annoying. Helen was none of those things. She was calm in the face of adversity.

There was a sense of control about her, even though the current situation could go left at any moment and ruin everyone’s lives. She sat in the room, quiet but present. To his amazement, in her hands was a novel she’d picked up in the hotel lobby to read, not her phone. He knew she had a phone, as a matter of fact, she had two, her own, plus the Technician phone belonging to Cherry. She had used that phone to send confirmation of the completed task to Azreal and placed it on a charger.

It would be much later in the evening before they made their move on The Collector; however, she’d said little. It was the little that gave him cause to pause. A vibe rested between them which was pleasant and not pushy. Before it was all over, he had the distinct impression she would find a way to share his bed and currently was using this time to determine the right approach to ask. His answer would still be no, but he was interested to see her approach.

In his line of work, he’d seen too many damaged women trying to make love out of a night of hot sex. He had the war wounds to show for his efforts to start relationships from traumatic events; been there, and did that type of woman. Yet Helen spoke to him. She tugged on him in a way that unnerved him yet made him long to be her hero. He’d also played that roleone time too many as well. The gate to that part of his heart had closed years ago. If he were to be a hero to anyone, it would be to himself. Hell, he felt as if he were the one who needed saving at this point. Plus, she smelled pretty, like lavender. He liked lavender. Shit, he was starting to like Helen too.

“Hey, Helen,” he said, taking a beat, “you haven’t mentioned the plan of action when we get to The Collector’s nest tonight.”

She looked up from the book. He expected her to dogear the page but instead, she took a napkin from the leftover takeout, folded it in half, and used it as a bookmark.Thoughtful. Her eyes, always surveying everything around her, were now studying his face. His handsome face, to match a strong, beautiful, muscle-ridden body that he took great pride in maintaining, had her attention.

“I’m going to walk up to the front door and ring the bell, and when he answers, I’m going to shoot him. As he lies on the floor writhing in pain, I shall shoot him again, remove the key to the cells and collar restraints from his neck, then free the women,” she said. “As he watches the captives he’s held onto as his wives walk to freedom, I’m going to shoot him in his dick and wait for him to die.”

Mustang’s eyes grew wider with every word she spoke. He’d been holding his breath after she said the first “shoot him” and by the time she ended with a bullet to the man’s junk, his mouth was also opened wide.

“Okay,” he said, swallowing hard, “and why do you think he’s simply going to open the door for you?”

“Arrogance.”

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