CLARA
Before I make the call, I spend an afternoon fidgeting. Nervous and scared, I don’t know the possible consequences of calling someone like Brock of the Inferno Riders to help me out with my problem. My friend Natasha said he was the only person I should call now, since the police are proving to be so unhelpful.
After filing countless reports, I am starting to give up. Since I don’t live in the best part of town, no one really cares about me or my store. But to me, it’s all that’s left of my parents, a family heirloom. And I’ll do anything it takes to keep it above water.
Apparently, that includes hiring the most vicious thug in the whole town. Brock’s reputation precedes him, both in the news and in neighborhood gossip. I know several of my friends have a huge crush on the biker, but I’ve never had a thing for bad boys. I would prefer someone to treat me nice, bring me roses, take care of me. Brock doesn’t seem like the type who would do that.
Though, truth be told, he did make me feel all warm and tingly when we spoke on the phone.
I shake my head to get the thoughts out. I need to be thinking straight when he gets here, make sure we really catch those thieves. I have to remember, this is nothing but a last resort.
I’m just making a pot of tea when my back door starts screeching. I turn around, feeling annoyed. I’ve been having some problems with the back door now that it’s cold. It tends to freeze and it won’t budge when I try to open it.
I start walking towards it, already upset about another problem in the house. Lately, it seems like everything is falling apart.
But instead of reaching my door, I bump into a wall of muscle. Shocked, I let out a yelp raising my hands in self-defense. Finally, I look up, into the eyes of a menace.
Tall. Broad shouldered. Huge. He’s wearing a hood over his eyes, partially obscuring his handsome face. I can still see his chiseled features though, and I can tell who he is.
“Mr. Brock,” I say in a low whisper. “I didn’t think you were coming for another hour or so. What are you doing here so early?”
My heart is beating so fast, I’m afraid it’s going to pop out of my chest. I’m afraid to look at Brock, but I can’t quite look away, either. He’s so tall and broad he takes up my entire kitchen. Even if I try to look away, his enormous body will still be blocking my view.
He is incredibly handsome. I’d seen some photos of Brock, but they don’t do him any favors. In person, he’s all muscle and a wide, toothy grin.
“Sorry to scare you,” he says in a low growl. His eyes are scanning my body, coming to a stop on every part of it. I can feel his gaze on my hips, my ass and my curves. I can’t tell whether he’s judging me or liking what he sees.
“Figured you wouldn’t feel safe in this house on your own. You live behind the store, don’t you?”
I nod slowly. “Do you know this part of town?” I ask curiously.
“Yeah, one of my buddies used to live here. Gone now, though.” He looks serious all of a sudden, and I’d rather not ask where his friend is now. “Anyway. Are you making tea? Wanna make me a cup, too?”
I nod vigorously, happy I have something to do. I rush around the kitchen, gathering two cups, sugar and milk. I make some tea for us , pouring it into the chipped cups which used to belong to my mother. Then, I carry them over to a small dining table in the middle of the room. Brock has already sat down, patting a chair next to him and motioning for me to sit down as well.
I’m trying not to look at him as I stir my tea and take a small sip.
“What are you so shy about?” Brock asks. His voice is dark and deep, thick with innuendos. It’s making me blush like I was a teenage girl still, when in reality I’m already over 25.
“Nothing. Just feels strange to have someone like you in my small kitchen, that’s all.”
He gives me a long look, his eyes lingering on mine. “Aren’t you used to having men around the house? I’m sure you have plenty of boyfriends, looking like you do.”
He’d made me blush before, but nothing like right now. I can feel my face turning the shade of a beetroot as he stares at me. His eyes are inquisitive, and it feels like they see deep into my soul.
“I don’t really have a boyfriend.” My voice is shaky as I admit it out loud. I feel embarrassed telling him this. I’d even feel embarrassed telling my friends, all of whom are in healthy relationships or even married at this point.
“But you have plenty of candidates, though?” He’s grinning at me again. I don’t even know what to say. Should I confess that I haven’t had a boyfriend since I was 20? No, no way. He would surely think I was some freak.
“Sorry if I’m being obnoxious. I’ve kind of forgotten my manners since I’ve been with the Inferno Riders.”
Brock actually sounds embarrassed, even though I feel like I should be the one cringing. I shake my hand dismissively, giving him a nervous smile to calm us both down.
“That’s okay,” I say with a small smile. I regard him thoughtfully for a moment, gathering up the courage to ask what I want to know. “So how come you got into the Inferno Riders anyway? You don’t seem like-“
He gets up from his chair, rising above me and making me feel smaller than ever. He is a menacing figure, one I am afraid of looking at. Instead I focus my gaze on the table in front of us, almost waiting for him to strike me for daring to question his intentions. I wait for the onslaught, yet it never comes.
Instead, Brock walks over to teapot I left on the stove, brings it over to the table and pours us both a refill. His eyes find mine and I see him for what he really is.
Just a man. A scary, huge and dangerous man, but one with feelings nonetheless.
“You offered a job, you offered a payment. I just chose to accept it. I don’t think of it as harming anyone. You said yourself these people are stealing from you. I’m just trying to protect you, and do what’s right,” he says.
I can hear the defensive tone in his voice, and it makes me embarrassed about ever having questioned him.
“So, you’re kind of like Robin Hood?” I ask, unable to hide the sound of amusement in my voice. My eyes connect with Brock’s one more time and I wonder whether he will scold me for being too invasive. After a long pause, all he does is smile wide at me.
“You’re quite the smart cookie, aren’t you?” he asks me, a grin playing on his lips. “A man like me could use a girl like you in his life.”
I blush, a deep red color blooming in my cheeks. Did he really just say that? I shouldn’t think anything of it. He is probably used to women hitting on him all the time; why would he look at someone like me twice?
I am just an ordinary girl, with curves in all the wrong places. Even though my mom used to say I had a pretty face, so far it hasn’t helped me get a boyfriend. I think it would be for the best if I stopped fantasizing about Brock. It would only hurt my feelings in the end.
We are staring at one another intently when a voice interrupts us. Brock’s eyes float to the door that leads outside of the kitchen, into the living area, and after that, into the shop. His pupils dilate and I let out a small whimper. I know what is going on, and I am only now realizing these people had been in the store while I was sleeping in my bedroom, only a few feet away. They could have hurt me, had they wanted to do so.
Suddenly, I am very glad Brock is there with me.
“They’re here,” I whisper. It is true. The noises are proof enough that the thieves have come once again to steal my money and books. Placing a finger on his lips, Brock motions for me to stay quiet. I nod my approval.
Brock walks over to the light switch, his steps light. He flips it off, enveloping us in darkness. My heart is beating even faster now, and I am scared. Not just for me, but for Brock as well.
As we are plunged into darkness, I find myself shivering with fear. I am not really a scaredy-cat, but just knowing I am in the same house as the villains who had robbed me before makes me want to start crying. I let out a small whimper, hoping Brock can’t hear me. No such luck, though.
A big, thick hand finds mine in the darkness. Long, meaty fingers wrap around mine and squeeze hard.
“You’re going to be okay. Just keep calm, and take deep breaths,” Brock says in a quiet, but calm voice. I nod it in the darkness, even though he probably can’t see me. I’m familiar with the layout of my house, yet even I am not sure what exactly is going on.
Still holding my hand, Brock drags me with him towards the kitchen counter. As quietly as possible, he opens a drawer with my kitchen utensils and my eyes widen as I see him withdraw a knife. It blends in the darkness, the moonlight making the steel shine as Brock turns the blade.
“Don’t hurt them,” I beg. Sure, I want the thieves to get what was coming to them, but I don’t want Brock to go crazy on them, either. I don’t want any blood on my hands. “Please, don’t hurt anyone in there.”
“Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing,” Brock tells me. It is just light enough in the room to discern the small, reassuring smile on his lips. I decide to trust him. Whether it is because I am too scared to do otherwise, or because I feel a strange attraction towards him, I might never know.
One more reassuring squeeze of my fingers, and Brock lets go of me. I feel the absence of his warm hand against mine more than I thought I would.
“I’m going to go out there now,” he tells me in his low rumbling voice. “I want you to stay in here, whatever happens. Whatever noise you hear, don’t go out there. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I nod breathlessly. And then all that is left to do is watch Brock walk towards the kitchen door, opens it silently and proceeds towards the book store area.
For the life of me, I can’t relax. What surprises me though, is that I am not afraid about the money in the cash register, or even my precious books. Instead, I am shaking for Brock’s safety. I would never be able to forgive myself if he didn’t make it out okay. So I do something very stupid.
I wait for what feels like hours, but is probably merely minutes. Then, finally, I head towards the door through which Brock had disappeared. I hesitate only for a moment before pushing it and entering into the living room, getting ready to head to the store. I need to know what is going on. I need to know Brock is safe.
Even if it means risking my own life.