“Do you want help getting her down the stairs?” she asked. I couldn’t help but snort at the idea of her helping me carryanything. Our height difference alone would make it a difficult task.
“I think I can handle it. Do you mind if I go grab her?” I asked, pointing at the bedroom.
“Oh, of course. Here, I’ll follow you down with her stuff.” I nodded and walked into the bedroom.
I wanted to look around, study the space, but forced myself to focus on my sister. I scooped her into my arms, and her head lolled against my chest. She looked so sweet when she was asleep—not like the demon she could be when she was awake.
In coordinated silence, we exited the apartment together. At some point, Fiona had thrown a puffy jacket over the pajamas she had on and held the doors open for me to get Charlie in and out of the building. I put her in the back seat of the SUV, the prospect driving giving me a weird look, but I shook my head to stop any questions.
“Here, her stuff,” Fiona said in a hushed voice, passing my sister’s clothes and purse over to me. I placed them on the floor of the car before closing the door and patting the roof to let the prospect know he could go.
My Brother knew where to take her, and that I would follow on my bike. I was left standing alone with Fiona, in the middle of the night in the parking lot. The temperature was in single digits now that February was upon us, and the urge to make sure Fiona got back upstairs and warm was gnawing at me.
“Let me walk you back up,” I said, unwilling to leave her alone like that.
Fiona looked like she was going to hesitate, but something in my expression must have stopped her because she gave a small nod before turning to head back inside. We climbed the stairs in silence, and when we got to the door, I waited until I saw she was inside.
“Well, it was nice meeting you. I hope Charlie’s feeling okay in the morning,” she said sweetly.
“She deserves whatever hangover she has, but I’ll let her know you wished her the best. Thank you again for helping her.”
“You’re a good brother,” was all she said, and I wasn’t sure how to respond. “Have a good night, Bash. It was nice meeting you.”
With a soft smile, she closed the door, and I stood there, listening as she bolted and chained it. After a few minutes passed, I had to force myself down the stairs and out of the building.
Climbing onto my bike, I put my helmet on and enjoyed the hum that went through me as the engine kicked on. Usually, as soon as I was out on the open road, I felt better. This time, with each mile that took me further away from Fiona, the more uncomfortable I felt. Somehow, she had already gotten under my skin.
Chapter 2
Fiona
I was only slightly surprised that Charlie’s brother showed up at my apartment. When he passed me his license, they had the same last name, plus, I had already seen the nameBashembroidered on his chest. Not to mention their features were amazingly similar.
Bash and Charlie both had tan skin and sandy blonde hair. The only major difference was their eyes. Charlie’s eyes were a clear blue, almost like the sky, whereas Bash’s were dark blue, flashing to an inky navy color depending on his expression.
As soon as I let him in, I understood why Charlie was hesitant to ask him for help. He radiated intensity. He was well over six feet, dwarfing me to the point that I got dizzy looking up to try to make eye contact. When he stood in the center of my apartment, it was like all the air was taken up. He looked so gigantic among my tiny furnishings.
There was something wild and untamed about him, like he was barely keeping a part of himself leashed at that moment. Flustered by his presence, I clumsily tried to explain how Charlie had wound up at my apartment.
I chewed my lip nervously as he stared at me with an intense focus that had me feeling like a bug under a microscope. Thespell was broken when he finally dipped around me to check on his sister.
Any concerns I had flew out the window as soon as he saw Charlie. His whole demeanor changed, his emotions so clearly written on his face. His initial relief was quickly replaced with concern, then anger.
It was evident how much he cared for his sister, and part of me was jealous that she had someone so concerned for her that he tracked her down in the middle of the night. I was further impressed when he thanked me for taking care of her. He surprised us both when he offered to stay and wait for a car rather than leaving to get it himself.
Typically, I was not the most comfortable around people, whether I knew them or not. I’d never been the most socially fluent. I didn’t know if it was the late hour or the collision of strange events, but somehow, I found myself standing in the kitchen with a strange man in the middle of the night, completely at ease.
When the car arrived, he carried Charlie down the stairs like she weighed nothing. I watched as he carefully put her in the car, somehow managing to communicate with the driver with a single look.
After he walked me back up to my apartment, I locked up, but couldn’t bring myself to move. I stood at the door, waiting to hear his heavy boots on the stairs. I couldn’t hear anything, and wondered if he had somehow snuck down.
As I was about to turn away from the door, I finally heard him stomping down the stairs. I jumped at the sound of the first thud. My heart was racing, and I tried to blame it on the scare rather than Bash’s presence.
I slept on the couch for the rest of the night, then woke up and stripped the bed before going down to put laundry in. Any remnants of my Friday night rinsed away with that first wash.
After my wild Friday night, the rest of my weekend was blissfully uneventful. I mostly stayed in, spending the weekend doing chores and reading, eventually popping out for some grocery shopping. When Monday came around, I had almost managed to forget about Bash and Charlie. The whole night seemed like a bit of a fever dream.I guess that was technically my first time picking someone up at a bar,I thought, giggling to myself. By noon, it was just another day in the boring life of Fiona Anderson.
By 9 a.m., I was neck-deep in emails sorting out my tasks for the day. From there, I was swept away in the familiar monotony of my job. I ate my lunch at my desk, absorbed in a spreadsheet I was working on—that was where I thrived, where I could tune everything out, shut all those pesky emotion-based thoughts off, and just use the analytical side.
