I doubled back through the crowd. The streetlights were on, and I wove through the shoppers, trying to find the samosa seller.
I peeked down one of the alleys, thinking I heard the seller’s music. Colonial Street was located in one of the older areas of New York where the grid was a nest of alleys and back passages squeezed between buildings.
The air in the alley was chilly and damp.
Maybe this was a sign from the universe that Mr. Richmond hasn’t yet earned a samosa.
“You looking for something?”
I turned. A man was blocking my exit.
“Just the samosa stand, but I think I changed my mind,” I told him with a smile.
He didn’t move.
“It’s a great night out, isn’t it?” I said, feeling slightly apprehensive.
Mr. Richmond’s negative attitude is rubbing off on you. This isn’t the 1980s. New York is perfectly safe.
The man took a step toward me.
8
GRAYSON
The man was approaching Lexi.
I knew it.
I knew she was going to get hurt or assaulted or kidnapped.
I looked for a place to pull over the car. I finally said fuck it and double-parked in the middle of the street. Horns honked as I stopped the car abruptly, threw open the door, and jumped out.
An angry man in a van yelled at me out the passenger window, but I ignored him, only having eyes for Lexi.
“Love that color orange on you,” Lexi was saying to the guy who was so obviously dangerous, so clearly someone who meant to do her harm.
She is insane, and you are insane to involve yourself.
But what could I do? This was what I’d vowed to prevent. Now was my chance to actually make amends, fix something.
“Come out with me,” the guy was saying.
If she agreed, I was going to lose it, not in an, I’ll-say-something-snarky way but in an I’m-going-to-jail sort of way.
“I’m busy,” Lexi chirped. “Thank you for the offer. I’m sure you’ll find the right person. You have a beautiful soul.”
No sense of self-preservation.
“You can’t dis me.” The guy lunged at her.
“You fucking piece of shit!” I shouted.
The crowd scattered, sensing a fight about to go down.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” Lexi yelled. Well, it sounded more like a squeak from one of those novelty rubber chickens.
“You better not be talking to my girl,” I said laser focused on the creep. I was going to kill him for touching her.
