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The next day passed in a whirlwind of errands, housework and too many loads of laundry to count. She'd fallen behind, picking up so many extra shifts. But, at twenty-four, she'd been saving for college for nearly five years now, and she almost had enough to cover her tuition and basic living expenses so she could afford to dedicate herself to her studies rather than divide it between school and work. By late afternoon, Charlotte was dressed in her naughty-looking work uniform and strolling to work at a casual pace and enjoying the rare feel of being early for work today.
She looked around the sports bar when she arrived, half expecting to see the stranger from the previous night lurking at one of the dark tables. But a quick survey revealed the entire darkened area of the bar was empty. Charlotte turned to hang up her coat in the staff area. There was no chill in the early summer evening's air, but since having to resort to walking to work, she'd learned that her silly school girl uniform garnered far more catcalls and whistles than she cared to receive. She tied her waitress apron around her slim waist and headed out onto the floor to work.
The evening was just as busy as the night before, but at least there were no drunken bachelors grabbing at her today. She didn't have a moment to spare, and it came as no surprise that Michael did not feel inclined to relieve her for a break the entire time. It wasn't until the end of her shift was nearing that she surveyed the room once again, looking intently around the darkened corner of the bar. She didn't find the stranger, but instead, resting on the table he had occupied the evening prior was a single, perfect red rose.
She walked over to it slowly and she ran her fingers over the silken softness of the petals before picking up the flower. She couldn't resist inhaling its sweet scent. She inhaled deeply but what she smelled was a combination of the rose and a unique, sensual scent that must have belonged to the stranger because it was the same scent she remembered wafting from across the table. “Mmmmm,” Charlotte let out with a sigh. She had no idea why she would find the scent so intoxicating after such a strange encounter with the giver, but it was arousing, nonetheless.
When the tables were cleaned and the last of the dishes washed and returned to their shelves, she grabbed her coat from its hook and locked the bar's door on her way out. Unfortunately, she had been so busy that evening, she hadn't been on the lookout for the other creeps who often frequent the establishment.
Charlotte had only walked a block when she heard a sound behind her. She turned quickly, but when her eyes found nothing, she picked up her pace. She had made it too far away from the bar; there was no point in returning to its safety now. A moment later, the sound returned and when she turned this time, she came face to face with a dark, sinister face. He was big and burly with muscles clearly evident beneath his form-fitting shirt. He smelled of cigarette smoke and alcohol, and looking beyond him, she spied two men, equally as minacious-looking staring on. She knew without a doubt that they intended to harm her. A hand came up to clasp over Charlotte's mouth, stifling her scream, while another swiftly wrapped around her waist and pulled her tight against his body. In that moment, Charlotte knew real terror.
But, in the next moment, she was free. Her captor had been thrust back, thrown to the ground. She didn't move. The two sinister onlookers still stood less than a foot away from her and she was too afraid to turn her back to flee. And then, the dark figure that had so quickly dispatched her captor made short work of the other two. His hands came around their necks and he lifted them off the ground as if they weighed no more than a bag of potatoes. He threw them back on the ground and moved to follow to where they had landed. All three, likely realizing they were the ones now in grave danger, rose quickly and ran. The dark figure watched for a moment, probably to ensure the menaces continued on their course, and then he turned to Charlotte, moving toward her carefully.
“Are you alright, Charlotte?” the figure asked, and she recognized the voice instantly. It was the stranger from the bar last night. He came into the light just seconds later, confirming it was who she suspected. He looked more vicious now, his prominent features hardened even more by anger, but there was a gentleness in the way he looked at her, and she somehow knew she had nothing to fear from him.
“You...But how? How did you know? And how could you? You picked up those men like they weighed nothing.” Now that the moment of terror had passed, Charlotte was flooded with emotion and a lone tear rolled down her cheek as she spoke. She could only imagine the horrible things they might have done to her.
“Please stop thinking those things,” he pleaded with a pained look on his chiseled face.
“I was watching you. Figuring out how to approach you, talk to you...to show you. And then I heard them, Charlotte, and I had to intervene,” he tried to explain emphatically.
She should have been frightened to learn that he'd been following her, particularly given the display of strength she'd just witnessed, but she wasn't. The gentleness in his eyes held her captive now and she could not reconcile that gentleness with violence in that moment. “Why,” was the only thought that came to her mind.
“I think it would be best to get you home for now. You've been rather shaken, and I will explain more later. I promise.”
He met her eyes, and the determined expression in his told her there was no point in arguing. In truth, her body was still feeling overwhelmed by what she knew would have taken place had the stranger not intervened—had he not saved her. She was also more tired than she could remember being in quite some time, so she nodded and let him escort her the remaining few blocks to her home.
When they arrived at her house, he continued to follow her to her front door. She found her keys hidden at the bottom of her purse and inserted them into the lock. Charlotte half expected the stranger to follow her inside, but he lingered on her door step. “Um, do you want to come in?” she queried, not certain it was appropriate to invite a stranger off the streets into her home, but given that he'd just saved her from a trio of sinister thugs, she felt rude sending him on his way.
“Thanks, but you should just get some sleep. Rest assured, we will meet again soon.”
He reached for her hand slowly, careful not to scare her, and raised it to his lips. He kissed the soft skin of the back of her hand and then released her just as gently. And then he was gone. He turned, strutted down the front walkway and was out of her sight just seconds later. While she wasn't big on following orders, the stranger's words only seemed to confirm how tired she really was. Charlotte climbed the stairs to her room to collapse on the bed, asleep only seconds later.