Arms falling at my sides, I glanced around the shadowy room, chest squeezing the longer I went without finding the man who’d held me. The catch in my breath was unavoidable when the room appeared empty.
“No,” I whispered, despair cracking me in two.
He’d left.Again.
I ducked my head, but out of the corner of my eye, something sparked. A tiny heartbeat suspended in the dark, a dull red-orange glow that pulsed with the faint sound of a smooth inhale. The flair was brief, flickering brightly before dimming to a dull smolder like a star fallen to earth.
With bated breath, I watched a fragile column of gray smoke drift upward, visible only for a moment before it vanished into the shadow surrounding it.
Heart pounding against my ribs, I turned restless despite sitting still as I stared transfixed at the glowing ember that pulsed again in time with his breath.
He’s here.
My eyes bore into the darkness, looking for the man behind that tiny spark, stomach bottoming out when the glow faintly illuminated thick fingertips and then the shape of a knuckle.
This man protected me, held me, clothed me, yet I stillhad no clear idea of his face.
“At this point, you could have three eyes and gills for ears, and I would still think you’re beautiful,” I murmured, so desperate for a glimpse.
The ember flared white-hot when he took another drag before completely snuffing out the glow against the windowsill. The floor-to-ceiling curtain concealed most of the glass and some of the man, and the rest was covered by night.
“Maybe that’s what you have.” He considered, the sound of his voice making me involuntarily shiver. “Gills for ears. That would explain why you didn’t do what I said.”
“What?” I asked, hoping he would step into the halo of light the lamp cast.
“I told you to stay out of trouble.”
“No. You told me to stop looking for you.”
He scoffed. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re homeless?”
“You didn’t ask.”
“I’m the witty one here,” he retorted.
“Come out of the shadows.”
“Why?”
Wasn’t it obvious? “Because I want to see you.”
“What’s your name?” he questioned, ignoring my request.
“Garrett,” I replied, knowing he’d probably already seen my ID. “What’s yours?”
“You don’t know?”
An inkling of a memory slid over me. How he seemed convinced I knew his name. But I didn’t. “I only know what you are to me.”
The room pulsed with something new. An energy I hadn’t felt before. Something intoxicating.
His voice was gravelly when it came out of the corner. “And what’s that?”
“A hero,” I said simply. “My hero.”
“I’m more like a nightmare,” he countered.
Not true.“Then why did you help me?” I asked.
