Titanium (7 page)

"Hey, I've got your six."

Although I didn't know what that meant exactly, I could
guess. As he drove me to my car, I looked back and found that we
were the object of many a curious stare, Shannon's among them. I
didn't mind. Zander's having my back meant everything.

He followed me home. On entering the apartment, I realized
he'd had a very busy day unpacking the boxes and moving the desk
and computer to a corner of the living room. I liked seeing some of
his personal items sitting around amongst mine--a photo of a young
family, possibly his sister's; some auto magazines, and what
appeared to be a hand-carved chess set. I promised myself I'd check
everything out the first time I could do it alone.

Zander had also added DVR capabilities to the cable TV
package, something I couldn't afford before. He apologized for
recording the Monday night football game, but I didn't mind.
Watching Zander yell at the TV reminded me of Clint and my cousins
Dustin and Micah. Ages eight and six, they'd both played on boys'
teams someone's dad coached, games that were hilarious to watch
since most of those little dudes could barely hold up their
helmets.

I loved the feel in the room at that moment. Companionable.
Relaxed. Safe. We could've been brother and sister except for one
thing. I just couldn't think of him that way. Sitting there in his sweats
and tee, totally focused on the game, Zander was just my type
physically speaking. A guy I could easily love. In fact, there wasn't
one thing I didn't find appealing, from his messy brown hair to his
size twelve--at least--Nikes. Every thoughtful thing he did only added
to the attraction. I just wished I knew how he felt about me.

Around nine, Zander got a call. Since he didn't leave the
room, I shamelessly listened in.

"So you got my new address." Pause. "No, it's a duplex, and I
have a housemate." Pause. "Definitely better." Pause. "It's fine. I'm
fine. I can't talk about that stuff now." A quick glance at me and a
long pause. "I've forgiven them, okay? I'm struggling to forget, I
guess." Pause.

I kept my eyes on the TV.

"Yeah, well, words are cheap. Did Mom put you up to
asking? Tell her I have no idea when I'll be home. At this point, never
might be too soon." Pause. "Miss you, too, Ang. Bye."

Setting his phone on the armrest, he caught my eye. "My big
sister."

I didn't comment or ask any questions, though my curiosity
raged.

When I went to bed later, rain slashed the window. It was a
sound I loved. Nothing was cozier than being buried under a quilt,
warm and snug, while a storm raged outside. I even liked the
lightning and thunder...until I saw a silhouette outside my window. I
sat up with a start and waited for the next flash. When it came, I saw
nothing.

Had I been dreaming?

Sitting alone in Riley's tiny living room, night-owl me
admitted that Riley's liking football could be added to the growing
list of her charms. Not that it wasn't long enough already. I could
only hope she had a dark side that would scare me away.

Chuckling softly at that ridiculous notion, I deliberately
moved on to something else, namely Angela aka Sissy. She
desperately wanted me to go home and make peace with the 'rents,
probably so we could spend Christmas together as one big happy
family.

What a joke. At the moment, I didn't have the stomach for
living that myth anymore. I'd tried to see things from their point of
view. I really had. And I perfectly understood that their big plans for
me had been crushed when I got hurt. But that was just it. Their big
plans had never been mine.

All the same, I battled with the guilt of "disappointing" my
folks even as I fumed because they actually believed that I had. If
every vet struggled with this garbage, it was no wonder the suicide
rate of the military continued to climb. Damn. Weren't our
readjustment issues bad enough without our loved ones piling on
their shit?

Grabbing my phone, I tried to call Kyle. It went straight to
voice mail. I left a short call-me message. As I lay my phone on the
cushion, I heard Riley's headboard bump the wall between us as if
she tossed and turned. Was she dreaming again? I knew all about
haunted sleep and wished for a split second I could crawl into her
bed and chase her bad memories away. But seeing my battle scars
would be the real nightmare.

Impulsively, I called Domingo Perez, a buddy of mine. If any
vet had his act together, it was him. I credited his wife Ella with that.
Her and his two kids. He'd never had a chance to mope around once
he made it home, even though he'd suffered severe internal injuries
that compromised quality of life.

"Yo, Xman." That's how he always answered. "What's
happening?"

"Nothing much. Just wanted to tell you I've moved out of the
trailer park."

"You left the tin ghetto?" He sounded surprised. "Why?"

"This girl I met Saturday needed someone to share rent. I
wanted to give you the address." Complete silence followed once I'd
done that. I could imagine what he was thinking. "Don't read
anything into this, okay? It's strictly platonic."

"Sure it is. Describe her."

"Um...smart, friendly--"

Dom's snort cut me off. "I meant how does she look?"

"Nice."

"Can you be more specific?"

"Five-three, one-ten."

"Long brown hair?"

"Roger that."

"Brown eyes?"

"Roger that, too."

"Nice tits?"

"Her tits are none of your damn business," I said. Dom
busted out laughing, which told me I'd been had. "Shut the eff up, will
ya?"

"When Xman has just admitted he followed his favorite type
girl home? A girl he met
Saturday
and now won't talk about?
No way in hell, dude. I've got questions."

"Tough shit. All you need to know is that we're just friends.
I'm not ruining anyone else's life."

Dom groaned. "This is insane. You blame yourself for
disappointing your parents, for not finishing college, for not saving
the world, for not dying. Come on, Zander. You deserve happiness
just as much as the next guy. And if you think this girl can give you
that, you've got to go for it. Now when can I meet her?"

"Not happening," I told him, abruptly ending the call.

I sat without moving for several minutes afterward, thinking
about what Dom had said.

Bottom line? A search for happiness had nothing to do with
my move into the duplex. I simply wanted to protect Riley.

But was it really smart to make her safety my daily goal,
especially after I'd failed others so miserably in the past?

Tuesday at UT was a repeat of Monday, right down to
glancing over my shoulder every two seconds to see if anyone was
following. That left me in a blue funk by the time I got to T&M, a
mood not helped by Shannon's pouncing the minute I reported for
duty.

"Was that guy in the truck the same guy staring at you
Friday night?"

"Yes."

"You've hooked up with him?"

I turned to locate Analena before I answered. "Of course not.
It's a long story that I can't tell you now."

"What time's your dinner break?"

"Eight, I think."

"Crap! Mine's at seven. Maybe we could go someplace after
work?"

"Attention, everyone. Gather around me, please." Our boss
motioned for us to join her.

Great. Another pep talk. We lived for them...not.

Analena got right to the point. "I've noticed that several of
you are not parking where you're supposed to. The front lot is for
mall customers only. Every time your car takes up a space, we lose a
sale."

Several of us exchanged dubious glances. Weren't we
customers, too? And how could the mall stay open without people
working there? That should count for something.

"Mall managers have asked that all employees please
cooperate as we gear up for holiday shopping. I expect my workers
to do what they've been asked to do."

I raised my hand like a first grader. Analena sighed
dramatically. "What is it now, Riley?" She crossed her arms over her
chest, clearly ready to shoot down whatever suggestion I had.

But today I didn't have one. "Friday night I parked in the
back lot. On my way to my car after work, three guys accosted me." I
heard gasps all around. "If it hadn't been for a total stranger coming
to my rescue, I don't know what would have happened."

"Was the guy in the truck the one who saved you?"

I ignored Shannon's whispered question. "The back lot
doesn't have enough poles, and what lights there are, don't half
work."

"Did you report this incident to mall security?"

"No. I called the city cops."

Analena gaped at me. "Without asking anyone if you
should?"

Behind me, I heard whispers.

"Is she for real?
"

"What a bitch."

"She's got to be kidding!"

I pretended not to hear. "I need permission to call 9-1-
1?"

Clearly furious, Analena opened her mouth, but snapped it
shut again. "All we need is for customers to panic because they think
the mall has security issues. Now I've told you what is expected. How
many of you have parked in the wrong area today?" Yep. She'd blown
me off, as usual.

Five of us raised our hands, all females, even though I knew
dang well the guys weren't parking in back, either.

"Shannon, go move your car. Riley, you go when she gets
back. Heather, Marie, and Rachel you go after that. Now everyone get
to work. We have hungry customers."

Grumbling, we all resumed the life and death business--in
our boss's eyes, anyway--of selling tacos. Did I move my car from the
front lot to the back when Shannon returned? Absolutely not. Just
the thought of later exiting the building into that dark area made me
sick to my stomach. Although Zander had shown up last night, I
didn't expect him tonight. So I told Heather to go ahead. Did Analena
notice that I didn't do as commanded? Of course.

I made sure of it.

And it was with great glee that she fired me the moment the
lunch crowd thinned out. On my way home, I didn't know whether to
laugh or cry. T&M had never been a good fit, but I still felt like a
failure. I mean, how many people got fired from a job that consisted
of stuffing tacos in a sack? And there couldn't have been a worse
time to be unemployed, what with Christmas right around the
corner. But I couldn't let Analena dictate my safety. I was responsible
for that.
Me.
I'd find another job.

I pulled into my driveway around two-thirty, just in time to
see Zander exiting the house. He wore nice jeans and a rust-colored
polo shirt that made his brown eyes pop. I braked. He waited, clearly
wondering what I was doing there that time of day.

"You look very nice," I told him as I walked up.

"Thanks. Why are you here?"

"I've been sacked."

His eyes flew open wide. "Are you shitting me?"

"Nope."

"Why? A trained chimp could've done what you were
doing."

"Gee, thanks."

He winced. "That came out wrong. I meant the work didn't
look all that hard, and you did it so well."

I hooted and gave him the scoop.

"You could probably complain to someone and get your job
back."

I thought about it for a nanosecond. "I'm not sure I want it.
Where are you going? Not that it's any of my business."

"I'm meeting a friend. Don't know how long I'll be
gone."

"Okay. Have fun." I watched until he got into his truck and
left. Was I wondering who the friend was? Not exactly. Gender
interested me more than a name. Just as I stepped on my porch,
Cheap Charlie stuck his head out his door. I reluctantly wiggled some
fingers in hello.

"You should've told me you were looking for a roommate,"
he said.

"It's okay to have one, right?"

"Sure. I was just thinking that we could've consolidated
space and freed up one side of the house."

So he could make more money? As if. "Zander's an old
friend."

"Ah."

For the zillionth time, I wondered what the guy did for a
living besides own the duplex. He called himself an "entrepreneur,"
but all I'd ever seen him do was jog early every morning. No matter
what time of day I came or went, his battered Ford Pinto always sat
in his drive. And when I asked him to fix things on my side of the
house, he invariably went the least expensive route to do it. Hence
the nickname I'd given him.

"Would you like to go to a movie sometime? I have a friend
who works at the theater. He can get us in for free."

"I don't have time to date." I escaped into the house where I
shook off his cooties with a full body shiver before I got busy doing
laundry and washing dishes. That finished, I stood in the living room
wondering if I should do a little cleaning.

"What would Aunt Leslie do?" I spoke aloud. "Yep. Get her
nails done. The cure-all for everything."

When I stepped out of the nail salon almost two hours later,
sporting a French manicure unemployed me couldn't really afford,
the sun had begun to sink on the western horizon. Listening to the
radio in my car, I pretty much zoned during the drive home until I
realized that the same silver SUV had been following me for
miles.

I instantly turned down a side street. So did the SUV, which
followed me all the way to the duplex. It took a lot of courage for me
to bolt from my car and run to the front door even though the SUV
had gone right past when I wheeled in and parked. What if the driver
had stopped somewhere just out of sight? What if he came back on
foot? Assuming it was a he. The tinted windows of the vehicle had
hidden the identity of the person driving.

Ducking inside, I whirled and locked the door. Whew. Was I
losing it? Seeing danger where there wasn't any? Very possibly. But
my heart pounded anyway.