RUINED ALREADY [18+]

|Five|

♦Penelope♦

Last night still seemed surreal to me. If the man sitting next to me wasn't a living testament I would have thought it was just a figment of my imagination. From the corner of my eyes I watched him cautiously. At the darkest part of my mind I expected him to pull out a gun on me; I'd seen him tuck on into his holster before we left the apartment building. Another part of me expected must worst than some brandishing of firearm and I kept pressing my thighs together until his eyes followed my movements.

"You know," he said. If you keep looking at me like that..."

I quickly diverted my incredulous stare from his face as he turned onto my neighborhood.

"I don't trust you, is that so far–fetched?"

He laughed. "I saved your life in case you seen have developed a severe case of amnesia overnight."

"How did you know he was following me to intervene?"

He threw a dirty look my way before focusing on the road once more. "Do you think I stalk women for fun? You choking on chloroform was a dead giveaway, principessa. You should be grateful."

"I am grateful."

"You don't look or sound grateful."

"Would I be demonstrating my gratitude if I licked your ass? Please turn left then right," I instructed.

"Oh, and you can release your death grip from the lash, querida. If I wanted you to hurt you, you'd be dead."

"Just leave me right here. Right here is good."

He cast a glance at me that said are you for real but kept driving on.

"You said the third house to your left."

"I don't want the neighbors to see," I told him. "That's the last thing I want."

"You truly care what the neighbors say?"

I shot him a glare. "Yes in fact I do. If strange men drop me at my gate it'll be neighborhood gossip."

"Then maybe your neighbors should consider going out some more," he said dryly.

He drove on and pulled up at my gateway. The house stood out more to me now that my father was dead. The ivory paint didn't look as sparkling as it did months ago when my father decided to do a paint job. He had been so proud when he'd done it all himself with no hired help.

"Aren't you getting out?"

His deep voice broke though my abstraction. "Oh. Sorry. Um, thanks for taking me home. And last night too. I...well thank you."

His mouth twitched at the side as he watched me. I climbed out of the car before I made a bigger fool of myself. As I walked away I paused in my amble and turned back to ask him the question that has been gnawing at the back of my mind.

"Will I ever see you again?"

The corner of his lips quirked up and his eyes gleamed wickedly. "That depends. I like trouble so we'll see, won't we, querida?"

He revved up the car and drove away, leaving a cloud of fume behind.

"Penelope?"

I turned towards the sound of the voice and found Brad standing on my patio, his eyes trailing after the car.

"Brad? What are you doing there?'

"I was worried for you when you didn't return last night. I called the bar to make sure you hadn't...you know?"