MacNamaras Lady

Chapter Three

T.S. felt like an idiot. He rubbed his hands together against the cold air that was seeping in through the window of his truck. He’d rolled it down to keep the windows from steaming up. He could run the engine for a while, but he didn’t want to waste the gas. Plus it wasn’t good for the environment to keep the vehicle idling indefinitely. He also didn’t want to attract attention. Or worse, have her see him and think he was stalking her. Which he wasn’t.

Missy had come alone and he was worried about her getting to her car okay. “If you were that worried, you should have waited.” He could have enjoyed a few more snacks from the buffet—there had been some killer shrimp and some excellent cheese puff thingies—maybe even had a cup of coffee. But no. He’d left the party before the worry had kicked in so now he was stuck in his rapidly chilling truck.

He tilted his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes. He should just go home and call it a night. But he knew he wouldn’t rest unless he knew Missy was okay. This wasn’t the worst part of town but it wasn’t the best either, not at this time of day with all the businesses closed up tight for the night.

He’d followed her here from the church so he knew her car was just up the road. He’d wait until she drove away and then he’d go home. No one needed to be the wiser.

It was no more than any decent man would do. And if he told himself that enough times he might actually start to believe it.

As he relaxed, he pictured Missy in his mind again. Mmmm, she was certainly as beautiful as an angel and as tempting as a sin. Her legs went on forever. It was easy to imagine those legs wrapped around his waist as he pumped into her. Her breasts weren’t overly large but they looked perfect, at least through her clothing. A handful, but no more.

Her curves were more subtle, her torso lean and slender. He wanted to run his hands over her soft skin, trace her curves with his tongue before finding his way to her nipples.

Oh yeah. He wasn’t cold any longer. Now he was hot. So hot it was a wonder his clothing wasn’t smoldering. His cock stirred and he shifted in his seat to get more comfortable.

Then there was her mouth. Missy had beautiful lips, full and inviting. He really wanted to taste them, before delving inward to explore her moist mouth. He groaned. He should stop. And he would. Any second now.

It was all too easy to imagine her head thrown back against his pillows, her dark brown eyes overflowing with passion, her lips parted on a throaty scream of passion.

The scream that ripped through the night brought him straight up in his seat, driving all sexual fantasies aside. He was out of his truck before he’d even realized he’d moved.

He heard the scuffle just down the way, on the other side of the road. He squinted against the darkness. Two men and one woman. Shit, he was going to have to get involved.

He started across the road at a lope. He already had his cell phone out, dialing 9-1-1. “Hey, let her go.” The men ignored him and pulled the woman deeper into the shadows. The guy’s hands were all over her even as she struggled.

He heard a voice answer his call and put the receiver to his ear just in time to hear, “And what is your emergency?”

“Two guys attacking a woman.” He quickly gave the address and hung up, stuffing his phone in his coat pocket. The woman screamed again and cursed her attackers. He recognized that voice.

Fury jolted through him like a runaway locomotive. Missy. They had his Missy.

T.S. didn’t think about the fact one or both men probably had weapons. He simply attacked, grabbing the first man by his arm. He was a big son of a bitch with gold loops in his ear and a don’t-fuck-with-me attitude. But T.S. was no slouch. He’d grown up in the projects and if there was one thing he knew how to do it was fight dirty.

He didn’t waste time trying to reason with them. He’d sized them both up in an instant and these were the kind of guys who talked with their fists. He slammed his closed hand in the guy’s face. It didn’t seem to faze his opponent. He shook off the punch and whirled with a roar of anger. At least he’d released Missy. He didn’t look at her, couldn’t afford to be distracted.

The guy came at T.S. and he didn’t waste time. He wished like hell he was wearing his steel-toed work boots, but his heavy-soled dress shoes would have to do. He brought his foot up and drove it right into the guy’s balls. His opponent’s eyes glazed over and his hands immediately dropped to his groin. Then he dropped like a stone.

There was no time for him to pause to enjoy the picture of the big guy rolling in agony on the sidewalk. T.S. spun back around to Missy and her other attacker. The guy was wrestling with her, but she was holding her own, scratching at his face, jabbing at him with her keys. Her attacker brought his hand back, curling his fingers into a fist.

T.S. roared and leapt forward, grabbing the guy’s hand and using his grip to pull him away from Missy. “Run,” he yelled at her.

This new opponent was wiry but tough. He smirked at T.S. then pulled out a knife. It was long and sharp with a black handle and a silver pommel shaped like a skull. And from the way he held it, he was obviously a pro at using it.

He took a swipe and T.S. jumped back, barely keeping the blade from slicing through his coat. He kicked out and hit the guy’s knee. The leg buckled, but his opponent danced aside before T.S. could follow through with a punch.

Missy edged along the building, moving steadily around the guy. Why the hell wasn’t she running back to Lucas’ place like he’d told her?

The knife swung toward T.S. again and he jumped back. The blade ripped through his sleeve. The guy obviously kept his blade sharp, damn him. T.S. was going to have to pay for the damage to the damn tuxedo rental.

The guy on the ground was stirring, rolling to his knees. T.S. spun around, delivering a roundhouse kick to his head and the guy hit the pavement again.

That moment of inattention cost T.S. as knife guy jabbed at him. He felt the blade sink into his upper arm and swore as he jerked back out of range. He dimly heard Missy yelling and sirens getting closer. All his attention was on the man currently trying to slice and dice him.

Footsteps echoed on the pavement behind him. T.S. didn’t dare turn to see who it was. He hoped like hell it was the cops. His arm was beginning to hurt like a motherfucker, but he ignored the pain and the blood seeping from the wound.

Knife guy’s eyes widened and he whirled around and took off running. T.S. wanted to chase the guy and grind him into the sidewalk, but he couldn’t leave Missy. The footsteps were closer now and he could hear someone yelling. He turned to face this newest threat.

“Thank you.” Missy threw herself into his arms. His injured arm protested but he ignored it. She was safe and she felt so damn good snuggled close to him. Nothing else mattered. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight to his chest, breathing a sigh of relief.

“You’re okay?” He pushed her away and studied her face in the dim light coming from the street lamp.

She nodded and tugged her coat closed, but not before he caught a glimpse of her ripped dress and what appeared to be nail marks on her skin.

A low growl of anger was ripped from him. Missy’s eyes widened but she didn’t move away from him.

“You okay, man?” Lucas was beside him, tugging at his coat. “Let me look at your arm. You’re cut.”

“I’m fine,” he protested, not wanting Missy to move away from him.

“Ohmygod, you’re hurt.” Her gaze went to his hand and he realized there was no hiding the blood dripping from his fingertips.

“I’m fine,” he assured her. Although the pain was sharp as Lucas helped him remove his coat, he was alert. He’d had worse. But not in a lot of years.

A black and white pulled up next to them, lights flashing, but siren now off. Two officers climbed out of their vehicle, guns drawn. “What’s going on here?”

Missy stepped forward into the light and both men slowly lowered their weapons. “I was attacked.” She pointed her finger at the guy sitting on the sidewalk with Cain Benjamin, who had come with Lucas from the wedding reception, standing next to him like a sentinel. “By him and another guy. One got away.” She pointed down the road. “Skinny white guy, about five foot ten, black jacket, white T-shirt, brown hair, dead blue eyes. He has a knife.”

One officer reached back into the car and grabbed the radio. While he was calling in to dispatch, the other officer came over. “What happened to him?” he pointed at T.S.

“He saved me.” Missy’s voice quavered and T.S. pushed Lucas aside and drew her into his arms, ignoring the blood seeping from his injury.

“It’s okay. Everything is okay.”

“And who are all of you?” the officer asked.

It was Lucas who responded. “Friends. They were both at my wedding reception just down the road. Missy called on her cell phone, her voice frantic. When she said she was being attacked, we all ran down.”

T.S. noted there were six other friends from the reception besides Lucas and Cain. Justin was there but, now that the cops were there, he melted into the shadows and disappeared. No one else noticed in all the confusion. T.S. couldn’t blame him. He wouldn’t mind doing the same thing and taking Missy with him.

Missy was shaking and he knew it was a combination of cold and shock. “I need a blanket.”

One officer put cuffs on the guy T.S. had brought down while the other one got a blanket and tried to put it around Missy. T.S. took it from him and put it around her shoulders himself.

More footsteps pounded on the sidewalk. He glanced up and almost smiled. Candy raced down the sidewalk. She was wearing sneakers and an old leather jacket over her wedding dress. Katie Benjamin was right behind her.

“Missy!” Candy cried and went immediately to her best friend.

T.S. hated to release Missy, but he suddenly wasn’t feeling so good. His stomach was queasy and the world was slightly blurry. He blinked to clear his vision, which worked, but he wavered slightly. Not good. Lucas caught him before he fell.

“Hey, buddy.” Lucas ripped the arm off T.S.’ already-destroyed shirt and wrapped it around the injury, which was now throbbing nonstop. “Time to get you to a hospital. You’re going to need stitches.”

“Only if Missy goes too.” He dug in his heels on this. He wanted a doctor to check her over and clean those scratches on her upper chest.

“You’re both going.” Candy stood beside Missy, determination radiating from her. She might be small but she was fierce when it came to protecting those she loved. T.S. liked that about her.

Another police car arrived along with the EMTs. They’d get this mess all sorted out, but only after Missy was seen by a doctor.

Several hours later, Missy sat in the hospital emergency room and stared at the door to the treatment rooms. T.S. was in there, waiting to get stitches. Stitches. It was still hard to believe he’d taken down two attackers by himself. He’d arrived just in the nick of time. She shuddered at the thought of what might have happened if he hadn’t.

“You okay?” It was about the hundredth time her best friend had asked her.

“I’m fine, Candy. You should go home. Both of you.” Lucas sat beside his wife, his arm protectively around her. “This is your wedding night.”

“Night’s not over yet.” Lucas’ droll remark made her laugh.

“I suppose not. But it soon will be.”

Lucas hooked a fallen lock of hair over Candy’s ear. “There’s always tomorrow. And I’m not leaving until I know T.S. is okay.”

Missy gave silent thanks for such wonderful friends. Not only Candy and Lucas but all the rest of the party guests who’d come to her rescue. The police had taken her statement here at the hospital. She knew all the others had gone back to Lucas’ place to answer questions.

An officer went in to talk to T.S., but had left a while ago with a promise to contact her when her statement was ready to be signed and if they caught her other attacker.

Missy pulled her coat closer around her. The blanket the nice officer had given her had disappeared while she was being seen by a doctor. She had some bruises and a few scratches, which had been cleaned. Her wrist was sore, but it was only a mild sprain. Otherwise she was fine.

But she felt dirty. Violated.

She wanted to go home and soak in a hot tub and scrub her skin until she couldn’t feel their hands on her anymore. She shivered.

“Are you cold?”

Candy’s concern had tears pricking at her eyes. Missy shrugged. “A little.”

Lucas rose without a word and returned a few minutes later with a cup of steaming hot chocolate. He put the paper cup in her hand and wrapped her fingers around it. “I figured the chocolate was safer than the coffee here.”

Missy nodded her thanks. If she spoke, she was afraid she’d burst into tears, which didn’t make any sense. She was fine. Everything was…fine.

She was halfway through the surprisingly tasty hot chocolate when a nurse wheeled T.S. out through the door in a wheelchair. Missy put the cup on the low table beside her and stood on shaky legs.

Lucas reached T.S. first. “How you doing, man?”

“A dozen stitches,” the nurse informed him. “But he’ll be fine with a few days’ rest.” She patted T.S. on his good arm. “Get that prescription filled and be sure to take all the antibiotics. Use the painkillers when you need them. Don’t be a macho guy.”

T.S. grunted, his eyes searching the waiting room. They stopped when they hit her. He stood and took a step toward her. Missy’s legs propelled her toward him without her having to prod them. She stopped about a foot from him.

“Are you okay?” His soft voice and deep concern wrapped around her better than any blanket.

“That should be my question,” she countered. He looked pale, but still as tough as ever. He was wearing a thin green top from a set of scrubs. His own shirt had obviously been ruined by blood and totally destroyed when they’d cut it off him. His dress jacket was draped over his good arm.

“I’ve had worse.” He shrugged and didn’t even wince. Missy wondered if it was the drugs keeping his arm numb or if he was really that tough. She figured it was probably a bit of both.

“Come on. Time to get going, folks.” Lucas rounded them all up and helped T.S., oblivious to his friend’s irritation.

“I don’t need help. I’m not a damn invalid,” T.S. protested as they left the emergency room.

“Of course not,” Lucas agreed as he helped T.S. to the car. Missy had to stifle a laugh when T.S. swore.

“You can drop me at my car,” Missy told them as soon as they were all settled in Candy’s car.

“You’re coming home with us. Both of you.” Candy leaned over the seat, her dark brown eyes luminous with unshed tears.

Missy reached forward and took her friend’s hand. “Thank you. I appreciate everything you and Lucas have done. But,” she continued before Candy could get too smug, “I need to go home.” She squeezed Candy’s fingers, hoping her friend would understand. “Plus, this is your wedding night.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Lucas pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. There was still quite a bit of traffic this time of night, but it was lighter than usual and they made good time as they headed back across the city.

“I’m going home too,” T.S. interjected. “I’m going to be miserable tomorrow, so I’d rather do it in my own bed.”

They argued the rest of the way back, but Missy got her way. Kind of. “I’m going to follow you home if you insist on driving by yourself.” She knew there would be no dissuading Lucas.

“I’ll go with her,” T.S. interjected. “I’ll call a cab from her place.” He glanced at her and winked. “That way you guys can finally get around to your wedding night. Or morning. It’s getting so late the sun will be up in a few hours.”

“I agree with T.S.” Missy’s stomach filled with butterflies at the thought of being alone with T.S., but it was the least she could do. She also agreed with him. Candy and Lucas deserved some sort of wedding night.

Lucas pulled into a spot behind his building and turned off the ignition. “Okay. If you’re determined. But I’m walking the two of you to Missy’s car.”

T.S. grumbled while Missy said her goodbyes to Candy, promising to call her friend tomorrow, but not too early.

“I gotta lock my truck. I’m not even sure I closed the damn door when I jumped out.” That’s assuming his truck was still there.

“Done.” Lucas told him. “Cain recognized your truck, saw the door open and took care of it.”

“Tell him thanks.”

Lucas snorted. “Tell him yourself.”

Missy enjoyed the byplay between the men. She knew they’d been friends for years, but had no idea how they’d met. She’d asked Candy once, but her friend had been unusually vague about it. That had piqued Missy’s curiosity. She hadn’t asked for more details, though, not wanting to put Candy in an awkward position. However the men had met didn’t really matter, she supposed.

She’d never been so glad to see her car before. All she wanted was to get home and crawl into the safety of her own bed. Missy wasn’t sure if she’d ever feel safe again after tonight. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” Lucas’ question shook her from her dark thoughts.

Turning toward him, she planted a kiss on his cheek. “I’m fine. But thanks.”

“Let’s go.” T.S. sounded surly, but she figured he had to be in a lot of pain. He eased into the passenger seat of her car and pulled on his seat belt.

Lucas waited until she was settled and had the car started before he closed the door. “Drive safe.”

She waved and nodded. Missy glanced in her rearview mirror as she pulled away. Lucas watched them until they were out of sight. Neither she nor T.S. spoke all the way to her apartment. She thought he might have drifted off to sleep until he spoke. “Can I come up to your place and call a cab from there?”

“Sure.” As much as she wanted to be alone, she couldn’t leave a wounded man on the sidewalk or even on the porch while he waited for a cab. She owed him more than she could ever repay. She parked in the lot behind the building and led the way inside.

Her hands shook as she unlocked the door. Her heels clicked on the tiled floor as they walked to the elevator. The door slid open as soon as she pressed the button and they stepped inside.

The silence thickened around them. Not uncomfortable. Almost anticipatory.

She kept glancing at T.S. For a man who’d been stabbed he was surprisingly steady on his feet. She was in worse shape than he was in that regard. Her legs were like jelly, threatening to give out on her any second. Of course, her high heels weren’t helping matters.

They got out of the elevator when they hit the third floor and walked down the corridor to her apartment, the carpet muffling the sound of their footsteps. The distance had never felt quite so long before. She had the end unit because it was slightly larger than the other apartments on the floor. When she tried to put her keys in the lock, they slipped from her fingers.

Before she could bend down to pick them up, T.S. was there, scooping them up. He didn’t hand them back to her, but found the right key and let them in. She stumbled forward and he caught her with his good arm.

The keys clanged as he tossed them into the Depression glass bowl on the entry table. The door closed with a solid thunk. The metal lock slid into place.

Missy swallowed hard as T.S. moved toward her. She took a step away and her back hit the wall. His eyes were intent on her face. They were dark amber and practically glowed as he studied her.

She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he told her.

Good to his word, he eased closer. Missy wasn’t certain she could handle his kiss. Not now. Not when she was so emotionally off balance.

Their mouths touched. Their lips barely grazed one another. It was a soft kiss. One that was an end onto itself, asking nothing, seeking nothing.

Missy burst into tears.