Roadside Strangers

Chapter 3

You looked up as he stared right at you. Your mouth hung open in shock. How did he know? Why?

"did he?" His green eyes roaming your face searching, longing for an answer.

You looked down into your cup, a lonely tear ran down your face and dripped into the steaming beverage.

"how did you know?"

You didn't dare look up as he sighed a heavy sigh. You could hear his fingers tapping at the table.

"I can tell. You looked hurt and helpless when I picked you up. I know when someone's been hit." there was no smile in his voice, rather a firm set line running across his forehead.

"yes he hit me. On the chest. Repeatedly for what seemed like forever. I didn't know what todo so I let him until I could muster up the strength to run. And that's why I'm here in the middle of nowhere with you." you exclaimed.

He chuckled silently. "and I thought it was cuz you liked me." he winked. A comforting joke.

He drew his hand up and reached across the small table, his thumb gently wiping away the tears.

"he won't ever touch you. If he comes here he won't touch you. I swear to god."

You shut your eyes. The sudden image of kale facing the boy sent a shiver down your spine. You felt yourself reach up and hold his hand.

"thank you." he smiled, his eyes melting into yours, tattooing you with the image of his dimpled face in your mind.

You dropped your hand as he pulled his back to his side.

"how did you know?" you ask again taking a sip of your tear-stained tea.

"I didn't have the greatest dad I'll just say that." he frowned.

You looked at him, clearly curious.

He smiled at you.

"you want to know more?"

You nodded into the mug. "I'm a journalist it's my nature."

He laughed.

"ok if you're sure um..ah..."

You put down the mug. "Nicole."

"Harry." he responded.

Harry. You absorbed his name. It suited him. Not just because he had a full head of curls but it just did.

He took a sip of his tea. His muscles flexing with every sip. He was insanely attractive. As he set down the mug he began to tell you his past. It was almost as dark and intriguing as his eyes.

"so whenever my dad would come home drunk I would hide. I hated seeing him hit mum. It was the worst thing. When he left I was 13. I wanted to kill him so bad. He'd left so many scars on her with many cruel reminders about the past. Everytime I see one I cringe. It makes me hate him all the more." his fits clenching tighter with every thorn sharp word he spat.

"w-where is he now?" you were just waiting for him to burst through the door and Harry to tear him apart.

"he's been in prison for awhile now. He won't come back. I know it. And bloody good riddance." he choked, standing up and taking the mugs to the sink.

You shook your head in dismay.

"I-I don't even know what to say. I'm so sorry Harry."

He placed the mugs down and made his way back to you. "it's ok. Thanks. I really needed to talk to someone about it. I'm happy you listened I-..." he was interrupted by a pounding at the door. His hands slipped to your shoulders holding them. Tight.

Without thinking you stood up and forced yourself against his chest.

He was warm and secure.

"Harry what if that's..." he wrapped you in his arms and whispered. "go hide in the washroom. Lock yourself in and don't come out until I say to. You hear?"

You looked up and nodded as you broke down the hall and shut the door latching the lock tight. Your heart was pounding and your mind swirling. You felt faint as you heard Harry make his way to the door.

"yes?" he asked as smoothly as possible

You heard an angry voice. Familiar and disturbing.

"wheres Nicole?!"