Niki's Challenge (19 page)

She’d apologize later and rubbed the
spot he’d touched. The buzz of a thousand bees drew her attention,
a sure signal she’d lost ground. Her fist tightened as she forcibly
slowed her breathing and the thundering of her heart.

“
A simple accident,” she
muttered. “Everything’s fine, it’s okay.” She took deep cleansing
breaths and bent over, hands on thighs as she talked herself back
from the brink of disaster.

“
Miss, my name’s Andre, I’m
working here from out of town and I’m sorry for hitting your car.
The light had turned green. I didn’t see you coming through the
red. The police are on their way. Is there anyone else we can
call?” The smaller man walked from the passenger side of her car,
it had curled like a soft pretzel from the impact of the heavier
truck.

Thank goodness she’d had on her
seatbelt. “I’m not sure exactly what happened.” She peered up at
him and then over to the light she’d drove through. “You’re saying
I ran the red light?” She’d been on her way to campus for an exam;
it wasn’t for a few hours. There hadn’t been a need to
rush.

“
Yeah, I had the right of
way on the green, and you drove through. Luckily you weren’t
driving too fast, the damage could’ve been worse.” They glanced at
her compact car. A few minutes ago, someone had pushed it to the
side of the road. The passenger’s seat lay tilted at an unnatural
angle. That wasn’t good.

Beneath lowered lids, she watched him.
He stood near the hood of her car, hands pushed deep in his jeans.
His furtive glances slid over her car and then the truck. She
tensed at his odd posturing.

Away from the dust, she breathed
easier now. Wary, she glanced sideways and saw the older man,
Blake, on the phone. Other cars had stopped; traffic slowed to a
crawl, vaguely she remembered people talking to her through the
windows earlier.

“
Yeah, lucky me. I just
paid the thing off and now it’s probably totaled.” She sucked her
teeth and stretched. It was an effort, but she needed to get her
car information for the police.

“
Good, the bosses are
here,” Andre said, relief and something else threaded through his
voice. He stiffened and moved slightly on the balls of his feet.
“Don’t worry Miss, Ross, Smoke or Red’ll fix this right up, now
that they’re all here.”

She couldn’t be sure, but it sounded
like he muttered “shit” under his breath as he walked off. The roar
of engines and the accompanying dust caught her attention. The
police had gotten there fast. She pushed away from her car, intent
on getting her insurance and title information when her right leg
buckled. She fell against the gravel. Tiny pebbles bruised her palm
and knee.

“
Ouch.”

She struggled to stand. The need to be
self-sufficient and handle this on her own without her parents’
involvement remained front and center. Having your only child
experience a debilitating disorder right after walking across the
stage at graduation had marked her mom. After the year on the
couch, she’d finally broken away, convinced of her cure. Her
parents hadn’t agreed, but she was twenty-five.

“
Don’t move, I’ve got you.”
The deep voice left no room for argument.

In a smooth motion, her legs left the
ground and she was placed on the supple leather of her front seat.
A large hand gently touched her brow and heated face.

Instinctively, she moved back, the
rough hand followed.

“
She’s warm, get the
ambulance here now,” he said. Feet scrambled outside the car. In
the distance, she heard murmuring.

“
I don’t need a doctor.
I’ll be all right,” she argued.

Dazed, the realization that he’d
picked up her size sixteen body without hesitation penetrated. She
pushed his hand away from her face with one hand, while pulling her
sweatshirt down with the other. A quick brush against her hair
assured her the shoulder-length ponytail kept hair from spiraling
all over her head. Satisfied she didn’t look like an asylum
escapee, she closed her eyes allowing her thoughts to turn to this
new dilemma.

“
Sure thing. Look at
me.”

She opened her eyes. Large hazel ones
probed. He nodded.

“
Maybe not a fever, but
you’re running warm. Maybe you should let a doctor check you out to
be sure.” He paused giving her a quick look over. “What happened
just now? Did you hurt your leg in the accident?”

“
I’m not sure.” She licked
dry lips, checking out his jeans, tee and flannel over-shirt. “You
aren’t the police. Who are you?

“
Ross Stemple. I work for
the company whose truck hit yours. “Red, bring me a bottle of water
from the ice chest on the back of my truck,” he called, without
turning. His hands encompassed hers.

The mention of water reminded her of
the dust from the airbag. Dizziness assailed her as the smell of
the dust penetrated. She leaned back into the seat. Even the
persistent buzzing noise seemed far away. The sun must’ve ducked
behind a cloud, since the day seemed darker. Her head felt heavy
and light. A strange feeling enveloped her.

He squeezed her hand.

“
Stay with me. Here, drink
this. Let’s get you hydrated.”

His voice held an odd mixture of
compassion and authority. It penetrated the fog in her head. Her
tongue searched for moisture. Ross placed a cold bottle into her
warm palms and wrapped her hands around it. A tingling sensation
radiated up her arms. He twisted off the cap and held her hands,
with the bottle, and drew it to her mouth.

She gasped the moment the cold liquid
touch her lips. Her mouth opened wider and she drank greedily,
clearing her mind somewhat. After draining the bottle, she opened
her eyes and leaned further back.

“
Thank you,” she
stammered.

Uncertainty rifled through her. A
white man crouched in front of her on the side of the road.
Covertly she watched him, appreciating his unhurried movements as
he stood and disposed of the bottle, his aura of command. He wore a
baseball cap backward over shoulder length dark brown hair. A
cropped close beard hugged his angular face. She pegged him for
late twenties, early thirties. His wide chest and muscular arms
created an interesting package. She couldn’t make out the pattern
of the tattoo on his shoulder, but the dark swirling colors caught
her eye.

He glanced at the passenger side of
her car. “Do you remember what happened?”

“
Very little. I’d just
received a text and picked up my cell when the truck hit me. At
least I think that’s what happened. The small man, Andre I think he
introduced himself.” She pointed in the direction of the truck
where the man leaned indolently, “said I ran the red
light.”

His head followed her hand, nodded and
returned. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“
Just a little dizzy. But I
think I will see a doctor. My leg gave out and that’s never
happened before.” She rubbed the offending limb.

“
Miss?” His brow
rose.

She eyed him before answering.
“Cherise Walters.”

“
Cherise, can you see under
the passenger’s seat?” His voice sounded stilted as he nodded in
the direction of the upturned chair.

She turned to look. “Yeah, pretty
much.” It looked like it had rained dusty pencils. The front
floorboard was covered with her large stash of sharpened pencils
and airbag dust. Warmth crept up her cheek. How would she explain
that many pencils? Two, five or maybe even ten for an exam, but a
bag of fifty wasn’t normal. She bit her lip and tried to think of a
plausible explanation.

“
Do you see that small
manila envelope on the floor?”

“
What? An envelope?”
Surprise over his question erased her embarrassment. She twisted
further. “Oh yeah, I see it now. What is it?”

“
It’s yours, isn’t it?” His
voice sounded skeptical.

“
No, I’ve never seen it
before. What is it?” She reached over to pick it up. He caught her
arm. She looked at him. “Why’d you do that?” She asked, wondering
what was going on. He’d just drove up, so why was he so interested
in a small envelope?

“
You don’t know what it is,
it could be something harmful.”

“
Okay, but it’s in my car.”
She drew out the words, as she watched him carefully. “How’d it get
there?” She hated the confusion lacing her tone. Now that he’d
brought it up, she needed answers and didn’t understand where he
was going with all this.

He rose. “Excuse me.” He reached past
her and picked it up. After a second of squeezing and running his
finger over the closed envelope, he sighed.

“
What? What is it?” Her
mind started whirling, filling in blanks of what could be in the
small packet. None of it made sense.

“
Who came to that side of
your car?”

“
Who?” Her voice rose. “I
don’t know, people stopped and asked questions. I couldn’t tell you
who came to the car.” She reached for the envelope; he pulled it
out of reach.

“
Look you’d better tell me
what’s in that envelope or I’ll be calling the police.” This was
not the time or the day to play guessing games. Her nerves huddled
loosely together but could break wide open any minute.

He gazed at her for a moment and then
nodded. “You should do that, call the police. I’m not sure what’s
inside since I haven’t opened it, but it feels like some type of
powder, possibly cocaine. From the thickness of it, there’s quite a
bit. Street value would probably be pretty high.” He opened his
palm handing her the envelope.

Cherise’s mouth gaped in surprise.
What had she expected him to say? She had no idea but certainly not
that. “Cocaine? As in drugs? Did you say drugs?” She whispered as
shock reverberated through her frame. The calm from the accident
shattered. Her legs trembled as fine tremors shook her core. The
buzzing returned thunderously. She leaned forward, lightheaded,
dizzy. Her throat closed tight, she couldn’t breathe.

Jail, she was going to
jail.

“
Inhale, take your time,
pull in small sips of air.”

He pushed her head down toward her
thighs, the nausea slowed, air returned gradually, the gray borders
thinned and the fluttering sounds receded. Strong hands stroked her
back in a circular pattern, lending warmth and a sense of security
during the frightful moment.

“
I don’t do drugs. I’ve
never even seen cocaine.” She shivered beneath his palm. “That’s
not my envelope.” She prayed he believed her, since the police were
on their way. They wouldn’t ask questions first, they’d take her to
jail.
Ohmigod, jail.
Her breath hitched.

“
I know. Look,” he said,
shaking the envelope in front of her. “It’s not buried in the dust
from the airbag. That’s why I asked who came to the passenger side
of your car.” His finger lifted her chin. She stared into a pool of
hazel brown certainty. “I’m not sure what’s going on here or why.
Did anyone from the truck lean or reach into the passenger side of
your car?”

The question rattled her mind. Several
people came and looked around the car. The hit happened on the
passenger side. But did anybody reach in? She couldn’t recall. “I’m
sorry. I don’t remember if they leaned in or not.”

He nodded and handed her the
envelope.

She stared at the viperous package and
shook her head. “I don’t want that.” She pushed his hand
away.

He took her hand in his. “What if I’m
wrong and it’s a gift for you. Money or something your boyfriend
left in your car.”

She snorted derisively, and pulled
away, brushing her hands. “Not possible. No boyfriend and no one I
know would use an envelope like that for a card or gift. No, I
don’t want whatever’s in that package. Get rid of it.”

He glanced at her.

“
Please.”

He nodded, stood and yelled,
“Smoke.”

For the first time she realized just
how tall and muscular her rescuer was. He moved the cap from his
head and ran his hand through his hair. He replaced the cap as a
dark brother sauntered over to her car. She stared at the
newcomer’s low cut hair and gold hoop earring. He reminded her of a
beefed up Miami Heat basketball player, Dwayne Wade, except he was
only a little over six feet by her estimation. What did these men
do to have bodies like these?

“
Cherise, this is my
partner Smoke. Smoke—Cherise.” He nodded to each during the
introductions. “I found this in her car on top of everything, by
the passenger seat.” He held the envelope so his partner would be
the only one viewing it.

“
Hmmm,” Smoke said before
looking at her again. “Are you okay, Cherise? The truck did some
serious damage to your car.”

She blinked. Did he ask about her
injury instead of dealing with the envelope? “Yes, although I plan
to get checked out after the police get here.” She stressed police,
hoping he’d understand the seriousness of the matter. If she hadn’t
seen them pull up, she might suspect a sinister plot of some sort.
Even now, her obsessive mind calculated the odds of their
involvement.