The Wanted Throne(Humor, Action, Science Fiction, Romance)

Chapter 2: Crimanal

Ch. IISaray

Miss Clay" At the sound of Joshua's voice I turned to face him with one eyebrow cocked above the other, "I think I may need a seat."

My eyes widened as Joshua's face paled and he stumbled back, his knees buckling as he started to fall. Reaching out, I winced as most of his weight came down on me. I scanned the room quickly for a place that was cleared and found it on one of the couches closest to the TV.

"You shouldn't have been standing," I scolded the stranger, "You are not helping yourself out one bit, you twit!"

Joshua dropped onto the leather covered cushions and groaned, "Well if it didn't sound like there was an elephant trudging wildly through the apartment then maybe I would have."

The couch dipped as I sat next to the injured man, trying to catch my breath, "Look," I said feeling very agitated, "I don't mean to pry or anything, but I really need to know who those guys were."

I looked at the man to my left. His dark waves of hair were tussled around his head, his lids shut in concentration, blocking out the gorgeous view of his brown eyes, and his face drawn in pain. Though it didn't show, I knew that he knew who I was referring to.

"Who were they Joshua?"

Peaking through one eye, Joshua examined me from head to toe, "You're guess is as good as mine."

"No! It is not either!" I cress-crossed my legs on the chair and threw my head back as I let out a loud groan of annoyance, "I don't even know your last name. You could be a criminal for all I know."

I glanced at the possible wanted-dead-or-alive man to see him nodding as if in agreement with my statement. Well, poo...I was harboring a criminal!

I jumped to my feet and faced him, hands on my hips, "You, Mr. Joshua, better start 'fessing up! And quick! I am not afraid to go back for that frying pan and use it on you! Who are you and what'd you do?"

I seemed to have caught him by surprise, "Well- I...uh...well-"

He shoved his hands through his hair in an angry motion, "I can't answer that."

"Sure ya can. Use your words, man!"

"Now look here, Miss Clay, I said I can't answer- not that I won't or refuse to." He said, his voice slowly but steadily rising, "I don't know the answer to that any better then you. Joshua is the name some little boy chose to call me. I don't know my name and I most certainly don't know who is out to kill me!"

I stared at him in stunned silence. That didn't go as planned-not that there really was a plan. Joshua stood from his seat.

"I am thankful for all that you have done for me, Ma'am-" Ma'am? "Truly I am -but I think it is best that I take my leave." Take my leave? What era was this guy from? With a nod of his head, I watch as Joshua remained standing firmly in the same spot. I chuckled to myself and push one of my fingers into his chest. And like I had envisioned, Joshua fell back looking exhausted and entirely irritated.

     He wasn't going anywhere.

Two days later...

     "Could I get by you really quick, Hun?" A soft voice brought me out of my haze and back into the world of Wal-Mart as an elderly lady gestured towards the canned pineapple in front of me. It took me a moment to realize I had been staring at the canned fruit for the past two minutes and was currently standing in the poor woman's way.

     I apologized and quickly stepped to the side. What on Earth was wrong with me? Get it together, Ray. You need to focus. You only have one thing left on the list and it's been staring you smack-dab in the face for the past three minutes.

     Sighing heavily, I grabbed two cans of diced pineapple, dropped them in my basket and headed towards the check out. This had been going on for forty two hours. I couldn't help it. The questions were driving me up a wall. There was just something about Joshua that held me every waking moment and to be honest I was ready to think about something else-anything else.

     "Will that be all for to day-" Startled at the new voice, I jumped causing my wallet to fly from my hands. I ended up playing hacky-sack with it until finally it landed on the floor and twirled its mary little way into the walk way five feet ahead of me.

     Frustrated beyond belief, I stomped over to the leather escape artist most people referred to as a wallet and slowly bent down and picked it up. God, it'd be just my luck to find it empty. As I fumed over my terrible day I searched through the wallet until, suddenly, my wallet was much closer to my face. Shoved into my face, to be more precise, as someone bumped into me. Stumbling back I prepared for the harsh beating my bum would take from the crash landing only to be held steady by two large, callused hands.