CHAPTER 43: WHO AND WHERE

The antiseptic smell hit me like a slap in the face the moment we stepped inside the local hospital. My arm ached, my cheek still stung from where the robber had landed that punch, but none of that compared to the sting of humiliation buzzing through my veins.

What kind of idiot imagines themselves as the hero in a robbery, only to hand over their wallet and nearly bawl their eyes out like a kindergartener who just got told Santa isn’t real? Me, that’s who, fucking devestating.

I looked over to the police officer after he took my statements as he went over to the woman sitting besides me.

The blonde woman on the bus, or rather, my accidental companion, sat beside me in silence out in the lobby, grocery bags right under her legs like she’d just been on another Sunday check-up rather than sitting through a stick-up.

I still couldn’t get over how little she’d reacted back then. She’d just... moved like she didn’t care, slow, robotic, slipping out a few bills like she was paying exact bus fare, and then staring down the guy with a gun like he was nothing more than a mosquito buzzing in her ear.

I was still trying to figure her out, even as I was called in and a nurse finished dabbing some iodine on my cheek and wrapping a bandage around my elbow.

"There," the nurse said kindly. "You’ll be sore for a day or two, but no serious injuries."

"Thanks," I muttered, hopping down from the exam table, embarrassed by the way my legs wobbled a little.

Outside the room, Blondie was waiting. She didn’t have to, but she did for some reason that I couldn’t even fucking fathom. If I was her, I’d be on my way right now, why else would anyone need to stick around and check out what happened to the random girl who tried to play hero? She was acting as if standing there as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and for some reason, that pissed me off like crazy.

"So," I started as we walked down the hallway, my voice sharper than intended, "you’re just... not going to explain yourself? You sat there like a statue, handed the guy some pity money, and then dropped the bomb after the fact that his gun wasn’t loaded? I mean... hello? My wallet is gone. Because of you, do you know what’s in there? Not that much, but, still, something, now I gotta redo my ID and licenses, it’s going to be such a shitfest if they don’t let me buy alcohol at the groceries store and wanted to check my ID."

Her expression didn’t twitch, not even a little. She just blinked at me once, slow as a cat (is that a good analogy?)

"Sorry." She said, "I didn’t expect you to get yourself into danger."

I threw up my hands. "That’s not the point! You knew he didn’t have bullets, and you didn’t say anything. You let him run off with my stuff!"

"You were already crying," she replied, calm as a monk, "Telling you wouldn’t have helped."

"That’s..." I sputtered, heat flushing my face. "That’s not your call! I could’ve done something. We could’ve, like... Earn a medal or something, god damn!"

"Maybe." She said.

I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. "God, you’re infuriating."

She didn’t argue, lust adjusted her grocery bag on her hip and said, "Let’s go, I’ll take you home."

I stopped dead in the hallway. "Excuse me? You don’t have to do that, ma’am... A- Are you a pervert that kidnaps people for their organs? Chinese Valley Of The Doll type shit?"

Her eyes slid toward me, cool and level. "It’s just not right for me to leave a child wandering the streets after almost letting her get killed."

"..." I paused, "A what...? Did you just call me a child?"

She tilted her head, as if actually trying to figure out whether she had.

I felt my blood pressure spike. "I’m twenty-three, thank you very much! Tch, I have a degree in Mathematics which means Starbucks’ going to prefer me over Art History. I pay taxes... I think, and I have a driver’s license, so excuse you, I am not a little girl!"

She seemed utterly unmoved. "Still can be quite irresponsible for me to walk away."

"You’re carrying groceries!" I flailed an arm toward her bags. "What are you even doing? Why are you insisting? Don’t you have somewhere to be? Dinner to cook? Or... whatever it is people like you do? I bet you own a Golden Retriever or a Husky, or if you’re really weird, a calico, you should get home before they riot."

Her lips pressed together, maybe the faintest ghost of a smile flickering there, but it vanished too fast for me to be sure. "I’ll come with you."

And that was it, no argument. Just a statement of fact, i wanted to scream, but what was I going to do when she took the same bus as me? Physically shove her off it? Besides... Do I really look like someone who would turn down company from a woman?

So I gave in.

The ride was long, and awkward. I spent most of it sneaking glances at her out of the corner of my eye. She had this weirdly regal posture, sitting perfectly upright even as the bus bounced and rattled. Her short blonde hair framed her sharp face in a way that made her look like some kind of off-duty soldier or a statue carved out of ice.

And, okay, fine, maybe my eyes wandered lower to her boobs, too. She had... presence, the kind of presence that made me think of all the times I’d stayed up way too late scrolling through certain sites, whining into my pillow about how I’d never actually touch a girl in real life.

My libido was a curse, a chain around my neck, and apparently it decided now was the perfect time to yank... God, that analogy doesn’t really help, now I want her to put me on a chain and make me bark.

I forced my eyes back to the scratched bus window, mentally screaming at myself: Stop staring at her boobs, Cory, just stop staring before things get weirder than it needs to be.

The city blurred by, gray and tired. By the time the bus screeched to a stop near my old apartment complex, my nerves were stretched thin.

The building loomed over us as we approached, twenty-five floors of crumbling concrete and rusted balconies, the kind of place where laundry hung out like prayer flags and the elevators made you say a prayer every time you stepped inside.

We shuffled into one of those elevators, the flickering fluorescent light buzzing overhead. I pulled out my phone, double-checked the address that the random "Tanya" had texted me after I gave her a call on the phone following Ann’s number.

Floor 18, Room 1807, which was absolutely ridiculous, for the record, the fact that these rooms are named like this, there aren’t even 500 rooms in this whole building, and yet here we are.

"I guess this is your stop, Cory?" Blondie’s voice cut through my concentration.

I nodded, thumb hovering above the glowing screen. "...Yeah. Guess so, thanks for, uh, yeah, tagging along, I guess. You can head home now, make some casserole or something."

She didn’t answer, just stood there, breathing steady, the faint rustle of grocery bags was the only sound in the area.

The elevator dinged. We stepped out into the dim, grimy hallway, the peeling wallpaper and humming fluorescent lights closing in around us as I looked around for the door to the room 1807... It was in the corner over there, not that hard to find.

I stood in front of the room, not knowing what to do, do I call the number again?

The silence stretched as I muttered my thoughts... Ten seconds, twenty, too long... I felt sweat bead at the back of my neck. And then it hit me.

"... Blondie?" I turned around.

"What is it?" She stood a few feet away, I hear metals, like keys, rustling.

"I never told you my name."

So how the fuck...

I tried to laugh it off, tell myself maybe I had mentioned my name in the hospital, maybe she overheard. But then she stopped in front of a door, the Room 1807 door.

With casual ease, she held up a key from her keychain, the source of the sounds I haerd, and slid it into the lock.

Click

The door swung open.

My stomach dropped. The phone nearly slipped out of my hand.

The world tilted.

And then everything went black at the edges of my vision as the horror of that realization set in.

She glanced back at me over her shoulder, eyes flat, voice cool as ice.

"Welcome, Cory." She opened the door wide for me, "My name is Tanya."