an accident

"Thanks for bringing me home, Sir. I’m fine now.”

Damien wasn’t so sure. Lila was huddled into a corner of her living room couch, a blanket wrapped around her as she sipped on the hot chocolate he’d made her.

There were dark circles under her eyes, standing out in contrast to her milky-white skin. He looked around the apartment, not liking what he saw.

Although she had tried to brighten the place up with some colorful cushions and cheap artwork, there was no disguising how rundown it was.

The walls had peeling wallpaper that looked like it was right out of the ‘70s, there was a big hole in the wall behind her head and the carpet had seen better days.

“I don’t like leaving you here. It’s not safe.”

“It’s fine, Sir. I’ve lived here for two years now.”

The neighborhood wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t a high crime area, either.

“All right,” he said reluctantly. “But tomorrow, I’m having a friend drop in to put better locks on this door and a security system.”

“I can’t afford that.”

“I can. And before you protest, either you take my offer or I’m going to call Master Adrian right now and have him come over. What’s it to be?”

Her eyes grew wide. “The security system,” she said in a quiet voice.

Yeah, that’s what he’d figured.

“Okay, love. I’m going now. I want to hear you lock up behind me.”

Damien waited until he heard the lock engage before heading down the stairs, and outside into the warm evening.

Fatigue pulled at him as he climbed into his car. He usually had his driver take him to the club, but Oliver was away visiting family, so he was on his own.

Pushing past the fatigue, he pulled away from the curb and headed home.

*****

The loud screeching of tires woke Jessa from a light sleep. Heart beating frantically, her skin clammy, she sat up. She glanced around in panic, but she couldn’t see much from where she’d been sleeping in the doorway.

Jumping up, she watched a small car spin out of control across the street.

Jessa cringed as the car crashed into a power pole. Shaking off her shock, she grabbed her backpack and slung it onto her back, then ran toward the accident, throwing the old blanket she’d had wrapped around her to the ground.

The car had rolled onto its roof. Jessa knelt on the pavement to peer into the driver’s side. A car door slammed shut and she glanced up, swallowing nervously as a large man approached quickly. Jessa fought the urge to turn tail and run.

“What happened?” a deep voice asked. “Are you all right, miss? Miss?”

he said in a firmer tone.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I wasn’t in the crash.”

A low moan drifted out from the car and Jessa sighed in relief. “The driver is alive. We have to help.”

As she reached for the car door, the man grabbed her hand, pulling her back.

She glanced up at him in surprise.

“We need to get some help,” he told her as he pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. “We could make the injuries worse if we do something.”

Of course, what had she been thinking? Jessa nodded. Kneeling carefully on the ground, she peered in the driver’s window. “It looks like a woman. She’s not moving.”

“Here, let me have a look.”

She glanced back to find him crouching beside her, a flashlight in his hand. Where had he gotten that?

“I had it in the boot of my car.” His slight English accent wrapped around the words.

Jessa shifted slightly as he aimed the flashlight into the car.

“Looks like there is just the driver. A woman. Can’t really see how badly she’s hurt.”

There was another moan from the driver.

“At least she’s alive,” Jessa said. “What happens if the car catches on fire?”

Damien glanced around the car. “I can’t see any sparks. If you smell any burning, let me know. An ambulance should be here soon. We’d better wait.”

“It feels wrong to just stand here and do nothing for her,” Jessa said, frantic with worry.

“I know,” he said. “Tell you what, there’s a blanket in the boot of my car. Why don’t you go get it while I try to open this door? We can try to keep her warm.”

Jessa nodded and jumped up, grateful to have something to do. She rushed toward the sleek, luxury car parked behind the accident scene.

Moving around to the still-open trunk—boot, as he called it—she quickly grabbed the blanket.

Hurrying back, she saw that he’d managed to get the door open. She carefully tried to cover the woman without jostling her, securing it so it didn’t fall off just as the distant wail of sirens grew louder.