Express Male

Dizzy now, and too terrified to speak, Marnie felt her eyes begin to flutter closed. She feared she would faint, that she wouldn’t be able to fight back, and although she struggled to hold on, she had no idea what to do. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. She was the product of the most normal upbringing, the most normal life. She had no enemies. She avoided confrontations. She was tolerant, decent, compassionate. She lived a quiet, uneventful life. She taught music to children. She donated money to the local animal shelter. She volunteered at the food bank two weekends a month. She was a good person. Why was this happening to her?

She would have given anything in that moment for a knight in shining armor to gallop up on his faithful steed and fell her attacker with an enchanted sword. But as a thirty-three-year-old single female well versed in the local dating scene, she knew Cleveland wasn’t overrun by paladins these days.

But as if cued by her hopeful thoughts, a soft buzzing erupted out of nowhere, a sound Marnie recognized as one of the little golf carts the mall security guards used for their patrols. Until now, she’d thought the vehicles were kind of silly for law enforcement, even at an upscale mall. But when she glanced to her left and saw one circling the corner of the building just then, it looked very much like a white stallion indeed. And the uniformed guard behind the wheel could have easily passed for a gallant man-at-arms.

Ah. Just the paladin she was looking for.

Evidently making his nightly rounds, the security guard wasted no time coming to Marnie’s rescue. No sooner had he stopped the golf cart than did he launch himself out of it, running at full tilt toward her assailant. Without even stopping to ask what was going on—not that it probably wasn’t kind of obvious, a six-foot-plus man looming over a much smaller woman in a dark, deserted parking lot—the security guard hurtled herself at her accoster, who, likewise surprised, released Marnie and threw himself into the battle.

Everything happened very quickly after that. But even amid all the chaos and confusion, Marnie sensed something out of kilter. Both men, she noted, fought with a forcefulness and expertise that just didn’t jibe with the common man. As she watched them brawl, she realized they weren’t brawling at all. There was too much elegance of movement, too much definition in the blows, too much orchestration of the combat. It was almost as if she were watching a violent ballet, so graceful was the altercation. This was no garden-variety street fighting they were doing. This was something way outside the knowledge of the ordinary man.

They were well matched, though, however they had come by their learning, and for several long minutes continued their fight. Not sure what to do, Marnie stood where she was, still clutching the manuscript, marveling at the sight. If it looked like her assailant was going to win, she would make a run for it. But all signs were pointing toward her rescuer instead, who seemed to have a slight edge over the first man now. A moment later, his edge became dominance, until Marnie’s assailant lay flat on his back on the asphalt.

Though not for long.

Because he scrambled quickly back up again, his nose bleeding, one cheek abraded and studied the security guard through slitted eyes. For a single, weighty moment, both men only eyed each other warily from six feet apart. Then Marnie’s attacker smiled bitterly.

“I knew OPUS wouldn’t be far,” he muttered, “but I didn’t think you’d be this close, not yet.” Then, without further ado—or further adieu, for that matter—he turned and fled.

The security guard completed a half-dozen steps in the same direction, then must have had second thoughts about going after the guy. Smart man, Marnie thought. Who knew what kind of lunatic her assailant was? He might have even been armed. Best just to stay safe until they could make sense of what had happened. Not that Marnie thought for a moment that anything that had happened to her tonight would ever make sense.

After halting, the security guard watched her attacker flee until the other man was out of sight, his hands curled into fists at his side, as if he hated having to let his adversary go. Then he spun around to look at Marnie, pinning her in place with a ferocious gaze.

Wow. He was even better looking than her assailant. And as much as she hated to admit it, he kind of seemed more ominous, too.

Oh, stop it, she told herself. There was nothing ominous about this man. He’d just rescued her from danger. He might have even saved her life! Her nerves were just so raw from everything that had happened tonight that a scoop of butter brickle ice cream would have seemed ominous at that point.

Her rescuer was way too handsome to be anything but a good guy, with straight, dark blond hair falling over his forehead, and eyes so blue even the scant lamplight couldn’t diminish their vividness. As he made his way toward her into better light, Marnie noted that they were a lucent pale blue, the color and clarity of a summer sky. In contrast to his soft eyes, however, the rest of his face was all dark planes and hard angles. High cheekbones were carved out above lean, tanned jaws. An elegant nose was chiseled above a full mouth that looked as if it had been wrought by an angry god. It occurred to Marnie then that his fierce features gave him the look of not a paladin, but a mercenary. Someone who only came to the rescue when he was being paid for performing the service.

It wasn’t exactly a comforting realization.

Nevertheless, he was tall and strong and sturdy, easily topping six feet, his broad shoulders straining at the seams of his white shirt, his black uniform trousers hugging powerful thighs. He continued to stride toward Marnie until he came to a halt with barely a foot of distance separating them, a position that felt…

Well. To be honest, it felt kind of menacing in light of the episode she’d just escaped. She told herself it was only because her nerves were frazzled from all that had happened tonight. Her rescuer had a nasty scrape on his jaw and a split lip, and his shirt was filthy from having rolled around on the asphalt. Anyone would look menacing under such conditions.

Of course, that didn’t explain why he was looking at Marnie as if she were his most hated enemy….

“Thank you,” she told him, shaking off the impression almost literally. “I don’t want to think about what might have happened if you hadn’t shown up when you did.”

His gaze was fixed entirely on her face, but he said not a word to acknowledge her gratitude. He seemed to be cataloguing her features, as if he were trying to figure out if he knew her from somewhere. But he didn’t, she was sure, unless it was just in passing at the mall. She would have remembered a man like him. For a long, long time. And then she would have dreamed about him. A lot. Probably without clothes. On either of them.

“Um, I guess you need to fill out a report or something?” she asked when he remained silent. And when, you know, her thoughts started to get away from her. “I know this sort of thing doesn’t happen often. I’ve worked at the mall for two years, and I’ve never heard about any woman being accosted in the parking lot.”

Although he still didn’t reply, his expression did at least change. A little. If possible, it became even more furious.

“Uh,” Marnie tried again, “I mean, if you need me to answer any questions, I can.” It wasn’t like she had any plans for the evening, other than to go home, curl herself into a fetal position in the closet and weep with gratitude to still be alive.

“Or if you think it would be better to wait until tomorrow, that’s okay, too,” she added. “I could come to mall security on my morning break. Or you could come to Lauderdale’s at your convenience. That’s where I work, in the, uh—” Gee, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be interviewed by this guy surrounded by women’s underthings. “Well, maybe it would just be better for me to come to security. What time will you be in?”

Two things occurred to Marnie as she asked the question. Number one, that although she knew most of the mall security guards by name and all of them by sight, this guy wasn’t one she recognized. And number two, his uniform didn’t hug his physique so snugly because he was muscular and well-formed—though, granted, he was certainly muscular and well-formed. It was because the uniform was two sizes too small.

She dropped her gaze to the gold-tone name tag each of the security guards wore and saw that his said “Randy Fink.” Which was funny, because he didn’t seem like a Randy Fink at all. Who did seem like a Randy Fink was Randy Fink, a mall security guard who made regular rounds in Lauderdale’s. Him, Marnie knew well. And he was indeed both randy and a fink. The man who stood before her now was neither. Well, not a fink anyway—she couldn’t speak for the other. He wasn’t Randy Fink, though, that was for sure.

Before she could say a word to point that out, her rescuer—such as he was—reached down to unsnap the holster of his gun. Marnie had always thought it a bit extreme for the mall to arm its security guards when the greatest enemy for most of them seemed to be the kielbasa at Hank’s Franks. Now it scared her even more that the mall security guards went around armed.

He spoke then, finally, in a voice that was deep and smooth and even more velvety than her attacker’s. The words he spoke, however, were just as puzzling. “Enough with the games, Lila.” He fingered the handle of the gun that rose out of his holster. “I was hoping you’d come along peacefully, but now I’m not so sure. And I really don’t want to have to do this the hard way.”

Funnily enough, it didn’t scare Marnie this time when a strange—and she meant that in more than one sense of the word—man called her by a name that wasn’t her own. No, this time, it kind of ticked her off. Whoever this Lila was, she really got around. And her choice of men left a lot to be desired. Marnie was sick and tired of being confused with her.

She had infinitely better morals than Lila for one thing. Maybe she didn’t attract a lot of men—or any lately—but the ones with whom she had been involved had not carried weapons, or engaged in fisticuffs, or threatened women, or slunk around in dark parking lots. She did have some standards. Which, now that she thought about it, might explain why she hadn’t attracted a lot of men—or any lately.

But that was beside the point.

The point was…Hmm. Well, she seemed to have forgotten the point. Anyway, it was better to live one’s life alone than to be involved with guys like the ones Lila dated. So there.

“I am not Lila,” she said adamantly for the third time, to the third man, that night. “I don’t know who Lila is, and I don’t know why you guys keep thinking I’m her. But lemme tell ya something. If I were her? First thing I’d do is torch my little black book and start over again. Because the men that woman attracts are just plain odd.”

The faux Randy Fink continued to gaze at Marnie in the same way he had before—as if he weren’t buying any of it. And he remained silent in light of her remarks.

She sighed heavily. “What do you want?” she asked calmly. Because so far tonight, she’d experienced, let’s see…fear, panic, confusion, terror, relief, happiness—oh, all right and a little lust for a minute there when she got that first good look at her rescuer—bewilderment, anger and sarcasm. Yep, calmness was about the only emotion she hadn’t felt tonight. And she figured she might as well just get them all over with, so she could go back to the beginning and begin once more with fear, since she figured fear was what she probably ought to be feeling again.

Faux Randy’s eyes narrowed at her question. “You know what I want, Lila.”

“No, I don’t, actually,” Marnie told him. “The first guy I met tonight wanted to give me this stupid manuscript. The second guy wanted to take it away from me. You seem to want to shoot me. At this point, I have no idea what to expect. So I’m asking you again. What do you want?”

Faux Randy settled his whole hand on the butt of his gun. Uh-oh. She’d been joking about that. Still, he did seem to be weighing the prospect of shooting her against the prospect of answering her question, so maybe there was still hope for a good outcome. Or, at the very least, an outcome that didn’t involve gunfire.

“First,” he said, “I want to know where you’ve been for the past five months.”

Well, that was easy enough to answer. In a vague, I’m not-giving-out-my-address-to-strange-in-more-than-one-sense-of-the-word-men kind of way.

“I’ve been here,” she said.

Maybe if she could keep him talking long enough, a real security guard would come along. Not that she trusted a single person on the entire planet at this point. Except maybe Bob Troutman, who, she knew, would be a slimy little git no matter the circumstances. Which currently made Bob Troutman the only human being on the planet Marnie would trust at this point. And of all the things that were going to keep her awake tonight, that one had to be the most troubling.

“Where’s here?” Faux Randy asked.

“Cleveland,” Marnie said. “Ohio. I was born and raised here. Save five years in Columbus to go to college, I’ve always lived here.”

“Right,” he replied in a way that indicated he believed not a word of what she said. “So I guess we are going to have to do this the hard way.” And with that, he did pull his weapon, and he pointed it right at Marnie’s heart.

Okay, cycling back to fear again.

“Look, this is nuts,” she said. She tried to hold up her hands, but thanks to the manuscript, could raise one only to shoulder height. Still, she turned both hands palm out. “I don’t understand any of what’s happened tonight, and all I want is to be left alone. If it’s the manuscript you want, take it. But please, just leave me out of it.”

“Oh, it’s definitely the manuscript I want,” he told her.

“And I definitely will take it. But you know full well there’s something else I want. And I’m going to take it, too.”