Her Wild Protector

“I’m fine. The light…it’s bothering my eyes.”

His pleasant smile turned to a frown and the hair on her arms stood up. Behind them, the wolf dog growled and barked again.

He momentarily turned his attention away from her and to the wolf dog. “Shhh, easy,” he said soothingly in a low voice. The animal gave a soft whimper and then was quiet. He turned back to Tara.

“What light?” Mr. D & D looked at her intently.

“That blue…” She stopped, her intuition ringing warning bells.

“What did you see just now, in the parking lot?”

“I didn’t see anything,” she said. “I have to go.” Pushing past him, she made her way between the buildings toward her car, and as she reached the lot, she heard a loud and powerful crash.

A short distance down the road, the car that Hyena Woman had stepped into was wrapped around a light pole. Surrounding the car was a bright blue glow, the exact same kind that had emanated from the mysterious man moments earlier. The light now pulsed strong, sparking like a broken transformer.

Tara didn’t even try to clear her vision this time. It wasn’t her eyes playing tricks on her; the light was real. She stopped for a moment and stared.

A young man stepping out of his car held up his phone to get a picture. “Holy shit, did you see that?” he asked.

“No, I didn’t see her hit the pole, but that light. What is that?” she asked him.

He turned to her. “What light?”

“Around the car.”

“There’s no light.” The man raised his phone again and headed in the direction of the wreck. More people stopped, more cell phones were pulled out and restaurant patrons came running. Sirens sounded in the distance. There were exclamations from the crowd like, “Oh my God!” and “Do you think that person’s okay?!” But Tara knew there was nothing she could do to help the woman, and her instincts told her to get the hell out of there. She trotted as quickly as she could to her car and as she fumbled her keys out of her purse she heard footsteps rapidly approaching. A quick glance up revealed Mr. D & D was running toward her.

She hit the clicker repeatedly.

“Stop, please wait, I need to talk to you,” he called.

The door handle slipped from her sweaty palm. She cursed and pulled again.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He’d arrived at her car just as she managed to open the door.

“Damn right you’re not,” she said, jumping into the car. He grabbed the door before she could shut it.

“I just want to talk to you for a minute. Please. I promise not to harm you.”

“Then talk through the window,” Tara said, and pulling hard, shut the door and clicked the locks. She shoved the key in the ignition with shaking hands, started the car and slid the window down a crack.

“Tell me what you saw back there,” he said.

“I saw you with that woman who was in that horrible car crash. Right after you kissed her. Don’t worry, I’m not going to tattle. I don’t get involved in office gossip.”

“You saw something else, didn’t you?”

The fearful look in her eyes must have given her away, but Tara was not about to reveal what she’d seen, or thought she’d seen.

“It’s important that you tell me. You could be in danger.”

“I said I won’t blab your secret. Lots of people play kissy-face after a few drinks. It’s no big deal. Now, let go of my car, I need to leave.”

“You have to give me a chance to explain. I’ll meet with you somewhere, in a public place, wherever you feel safe. You work in accounting, right? I’ve seen you there."”

“Hey Marshall,” a voice called and looking around the body blocking her window, Tara saw a man running up to them. So Mr. D & D’s name was Marshall. Good name.

“There’s a cop here. He wants to talk to all of us who were having drinks with Annette. Right now.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow, we’ll meet,” Marshall said to her and backed away from the car.

Without a backward glance, Tara took off and drove home as fast as she could, her hands shaking on the steering wheel. When she got to her building, she sprinted up the stairs and didn’t stop moving until her front door was securely locked and bolted. Then she leaned against the door and slid down the length, sitting on the floor to catch her breath.

What the hell just happened? This had to be one of the strangest days she’d ever had, pleasantly so up until the end. Did someone slip a hallucinogenic substance in her drink? Tara put her face in her hands and winced as she touched her forehead. No, probably not a mysterious drug—it had to be her injury. The blow to her head had her seeing things. People and cars did not glow.

She rose, poured herself a glass of wine and undressed, deciding to call this an early night. Even if that man, Marshall, wasn’t actually glowing blue the way her eyes told her that he was, she was convinced that he had something to do with the woman wrecking her car. Tara was sure. She detected an air of danger around him and more importantly, it was too much of a coincidence that he was so close to Hyena Woman moments before she crashed. He did something to her, maybe something much more ominous than a kiss. He had somehow impeded her driving ability. And Tara hadn’t stopped to gawk, but she was fairly certain the poor woman was dead. Her car was wrapped around that pole like stripes on a candy cane.

Marshall knew that Tara had seen him with that Hyena Woman Annette and because of that, he was overly eager to talk to her. Something was very off here. Thank goodness she had an unlisted number, because she did not want to talk to him. That woman was dead. And what she’d told him was true—she did not get involved with workplace politics or relationships, and if he had some bizarre agenda going on that involved people dying, all the more reason to stay far away.

Tara took a long, steamy shower then climbed into bed and forced herself to read a few chapters of her book. Eventually her nerves settled down and she slept.

* * *

All the next day Tara fought a sense of unease. When she concentrated, she was still able to zip through her tasks as quickly as she had the previous day, but her mind kept wandering to the strange events of the evening before. Though curious by nature, warning bells dinged loudly and her intuition told her not to get involved in this strange incident. She knew whatever was going on spelled danger.

The day finally ended, and just as she was about to head home, her work phone rang.

“Hello, you’ve reached Tara in accounting. How can I help you?”

“Meet me at the Crazy Bean Coffee Shop in fifteen minutes. This is Marshall. From last night.”

Tara’s pulse skipped a beat.

“How did you get my number?”

“I have resources. I need to talk to you and if you won’t meet with me I’ll come to your office.”

His tone held no room for argument and he’d already hung up by the time she came to her senses enough to protest. Tara believed he would make good on his threat and come up to her area in the office, so she quickly finished shutting down her computer, grabbed her purse and headed down the hall.

To her utter annoyance, she found herself drawn to the bathroom mirror where she slid on a smidge of lipstick and fluffed her hair before leaving the office. Marshall’s voice on the phone, abrupt though it had been, contained an underlying tone of sensuality and sent a ripple of pleasure through her. Though she fully intended to keep the conversation brief and was only going along with his demand so he would leave her alone, she wanted to look good doing it.

She stepped outside and was greeted with a gust of wind. So much for primping. Her hair flew everywhere and she squinted with her hand held over her eyes. It was bright, sunny and breezy—a perfect day. The Crazy Bean was not far away, so Tara decided to walk. She didn’t plan to spend much time in the establishment and figured she could get away easier on foot if she needed to. Besides, the coffee shop was always busy. If Hot and Crazy tried anything, a loud yell would bring help.

Her heart did a little flip when she saw him sitting at a table. Even if he was a lunatic, he was a damn fine-looking one. Today he wore blue jeans and a long-sleeved button-down shirt. It was open just enough that she could see a patch of dark hair on his chest. As she got closer, the faint scent of an enticing woodsy aftershave or cologne reached her nostrils and made her pulse skip a beat. He still had on those sunglasses, and though they made him look hot as hell, people who wore shades indoors irritated her. She slid into the seat across from him.

“So talk. I don’t have a lot of time,” she began. In reality, she had nothing but time this Friday night, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

A server took her order, then he leaned in close and lowered his voice.