Page 2 of Secret Guardian

He follows me to the kitchen as if he understands everything I’m saying. Who knows, maybe he does. The clinking of the food as it fills his automatic feeder sends Tiger into a tizzy, and he gobbles it up like he hasn’t eaten in days. “So dramatic, aren’t you?”

His water is still full, so I leave that alone.

“She’ll be home in a little while, okay, buddy?” I give him one last scratch. I turn on my heel, the moonlight shining into the room from Renee’s patio door. “Of course she left her curtain open again,” I mutter. I’ve always gotten onto her because she’s oblivious about her safety. It’s something I’m always cautious about, but she didn’t live through what I did.

I stare out into the night, anxiety building inside me. The clouds float over to cover the moon and everything is dark, but for some reason I ache to keep staring into the nothingness. As the clouds move again, I sigh, reaching up to pull the curtainclosed, but then there’s a loud thump. I drop my arm, frozen in fear as a man slides down the door before crumpling onto the patio.

My instincts to save him kick in, and I throw the door open, the metallic scent of blood immediately filling my nostrils. After stepping over the man, I drop to my knees at his side to survey the situation. My hands hover over him, hesitating for only a moment before diving in.

When my skin touches his wrist, an electric shock jolts my fingertips and snakes throughout my body. Must be the adrenaline. But relief floods my system at the reassuring thump. He has a pulse, thundering under my fingertip like a drum. His torso is sweaty, his shirt sticking to him, but that’s not where the blood is.

My hands continue their investigation, and there it is. The rip in his pants is right below his hip bones. The blood coating his jeans has turned them dark. It’s not pouring from the wound, though, which is a good sign. I curse Renee again for not leaving her porch lights on, because if the motion detector had kicked in, I’d be able to see better. As it is, I’m afraid to move him…and after feeling his taut muscles and stout body, I’m not sure I could.

I’m pretty strong, but this man is enormous.

“Wait right here.” I squeeze his arm. “I’m going to grab supplies and turn on the light. I’ll be right back.”

The man groans in response—a good sign. At least he’s awake. I step over him and run through Renee’s apartment to my old bathroom. Thankfully, she’s left everything the way we had it, and I grab the first aid kit from the medicine cabinet and a few of the old cleaning rags from underneath the sink. After flicking on the patio light, I’m back by his side, my supplies open beside me as my fingers twitch over the zipper of his pants.

“I’m going to unzip your pants so I can clean your wound, okay?”

He groans again, which I take to mean he understands. After a moment of struggling, I have the button and zipper open. I grab each side tightly and wrestle the pants down just enough to uncover the wound. It’s nasty, but it’s no longer bleeding. Working quickly, I clean the jagged cut. It had to be a knife, a serrated blade of some sort. Of course, if this man makes a habit of dropping in on people’s patios in the middle of the night, maybe that’s how he got stabbed.

Oh my god, what if I’m saving a creep? Or a criminal? The thought flashes across my mind, but I push the fear aside because it doesn’t matter. I have to save everyone.

When the wound is clean, I spray it with disinfectant. As he reacts to the sting, his clothing twists, and to my utter shock, I catch a glimpse of his dick, hard and throbbing and protruding from the front of his underwear. My thighs clench instinctively, heat pooling in my core like I’ve never felt, and I make myself look away.

What the fuck?

Gathering my wits, I clear my throat and finish the bandaging, ignoring the way my skin sizzles as if flames are erupting from beneath the surface. Once my work is done, I scoot back on all fours, as far from him as I can get without falling off the edge, and sit crisscross on the wood. My insides tingle, something crawling through my veins, as if searching for something and finding it all at once. I close my eyes, the sensation overwhelming. My throat burns with a raw thirst that has nothing to do with water. I breathe in and out slowly, calming myself, and as the fire subsides, my eyes open slowly.

But he’s gone.

How did the man go from being unconscious to disappearing in the minute I took to compose myself? Leaving nothing behindexcept my heavy breathing and a wet spot on the porch where his sweaty head had rested. A low growl from the door interrupts my thoughts as Tiger steps onto the patio, sniffing where my patient was. He grumbles in kitten nonsense as he scouts out the area before climbing into my lap.

“Weirdest night ever, Tiger.” I scratch behind his ears, shaking my head. “I didn’t even hear him move. I hope he’ll be okay.”

Tiger purrs reassuringly, bumping my paused hand for more pets. I oblige, staring up at the night sky. Normally, I’d never be outside alone this late. The memories are too much. The flashes of my mom’s frightened face; my dad’s swinging arm that did no good to dissuade the intruders. We weren’t rich. We didn’t have anything of value for anyone to take. We were just unlucky.

But they didn’t hurt me.

“I gotta head home, buddy. Let’s get you inside.” He hops off my lap and pads through the doorway, stepping over my supplies. I collect everything, putting away the spray inside the first aid kit and crumpling the bandage wrappers in my fist before taking one last look around the yard. But there’s no sign of the mysterious man.

I lock up Renee’s house and bid Tiger goodnight before heading to my own home. The porch light is bright and welcoming as always, and as I walk up the stairs, I’m greeted by the low meow of the stray that likes to hang around my porch.

“Hey, Old Man.” He pushes up on his front legs, shaking his tail. The way he moves, as if his joints are stiff, and his fuzzy face make me think of an unruly beard. He moved to my porch when I moved out of Renee’s. He won’t let me touch him, though. I tried the first few times he appeared, and he always ran away. Now I respect his request and we just talk.

“Have a good night,” I tell him before locking myself in my house. It’s been an odd night, and the adrenaline from the eventsat my aunt’s has tapered, turning into pure exhaustion. I should shower, but I don’t know how I’ll muster the energy. I don’t have a choice, though, so I trudge through the motions of getting clean, the hot water soothing my aching muscles.

By the time I crawl into bed, my eyes are halfway closed. After squinting at my phone to make sure my alarm is set, I burrow under the covers, the cool sheets welcoming me with open arms. But as I drift off into dreamland, my mind is consumed by the image of the injured man sprawled out before me. Only now, he’s awake. His eyes are dark and dangerous, roving down my body, and that same feeling floods through me as before, as if my veins themselves are on fire. The sheets twist around my ankles as I toss and turn, the burning within me nearly unbearable as I’m trapped somewhere between sleep and waking.

My hand snakes between my legs, searching for relief. Every time I send myself over the edge, I imagine it’s at his hands instead of mine. I pretend his full lips are devouring mine as I moan into my pillow, but no matter how many times I orgasm, the ache never ceases.

TWO

As my coffeedrips reassuringly the next morning, the scent wafting around my kitchen, I’m thankful to be off for the day. After my restless night, there’s no way I could provide care for anyone. Apparently, I can’t even take care of myself. My body is blowing my mind, and not in the way I want it to.

When the machine sputters to a stop, I fill my favorite mug before reaching for my white chocolate macadamia syrup. Of course the bottle is empty. I toss it into the trash and search through the cabinets, but with no luck. It’s just not my day. I slam the doors shut before making my way over to the refrigerator and yanking it open with an exaggerated groan. To my utter dismay, the door rips off its hinges. I stand there in shock as all of my condiments in the door slide onto the floor. The handle slips from my fingertips and lands on the ground with a bang.

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