Five

Charli

 

The usual anxiety I experience upon waking kicks in the next morning, and I scour the room as it comes into focus. The sight of half-empty cots, in addition to the scent of body odor mingling with other unwelcoming scents, alleviates my momentary unease. The thin blanket falls to my lap as I sit upright, brushing a strand of hair away from my face as I remain on the lumpy cot.

I’d slept later than I’d been hoping, which isn’t all that surprising. It had been difficult trying to fall asleep last night. I’d kept worrying that the bearded man might send his goon after me, and my overactive imagination kept envisioning that I’d wake up and find the brown-eyed henchman hovering over me.

After I rub my eyes, I stumble to my feet and glance at the other shelter inhabitants that haven’t left yet. Most are ignoring me, but one man is openly staring at me with contempt. I’m bewildered by his hostility until I recall that the combined cost of my outfit is probably worth more than he can ever hope to bum off pitying strangers. In his eyes, I don’t belong here, and I’m taking space that would better benefit someone else.

Discrimination is present even on the streets. If you have more than someone else, they’ll judge you for it. Envy can be an evil monster, and for once, I’m glad that I have nothing for anyone to steal. If I had, it would have been stolen while I’d been sleeping.

I’d like to walk over to the man who looks as if he’s suffered many hardships in life and explain that, I too, have been there. But I won’t. He wouldn’t understand me, and even if I was willing to use my voice, he wouldn’t listen. He’s jaded, and nothing I say will change his opinion.

Determined not to give the man a second thought, I make my way toward the room’s exit. On my way out of the shelter, I give one of the volunteers a small smile of thanks before stepping out into the sunlight.

It’s a new day, and I already have an agenda mapped out. First, I’m hoping that I can trade my clothing at a second-hand store for a few cheap outfits and a pair of sneakers. It isn’t much, but it would be a start.

My thoughts focus on the upcoming day as I walk down the busy sidewalk, ignoring the blisters that the sandals had already given me. Living off the streets isn’t a preference, but for now, it’s my reality until I can figure out a better way. If only someone would take a chance and hire me. It would make all the difference in my life.

An arm unexpectedly slips around me, pulling me into a half-embrace as something pricks my side. It takes only a second to comprehend what’s happening, but by then, it’s too late.

The world turns hazy, and my eyelids droop. The strong arm resting upon my shoulders brings me closer to a hard, masculine side, and I stumble as I’m led towards the street. I should be panicking, but my mind won’t allow me to process the emotion. The protest and urge to run is superseded by my body’s betrayal with its need to sleep.

A black SUV wavers before me, and the open door looks larger than life as it prepares to swallow me whole. I’m carefully maneuvered into the backseat, and without control over my body, I slump against my captor. A warm hand cradles the back of my head as my face is tilted so that brown eyes hover above mine. Masculine lips are forming words, but my vision is fading in and out, making it impossible to focus.

The floor is now moving.

It’s disorienting and causing my stomach to somersault. Fabric is pulled over my head, and my arms are maneuvered as something is tugged on over my shirt. Next, plastic is pressed against the bridge of my nose and settles along my ears.

Even as I struggle to stay conscious and alert, I desperately try to concentrate on what’s happening. I think I’m wearing a sweatshirt and sunglasses.

Brown eyes…

Who has brown eyes? Why are they familiar? The bearded man? Yes, but his were so cold. These eyes are different, kinder.

The man who’d brought me to the apartment! It’s him. The goon I’d feared that would re-appear and snatch me up has indeed done exactly just that. My head lolls to the side, resting on something warm and fabric-covered. A shoulder, maybe?

I think I fell asleep, because the next thing I become aware of is being helped from the vehicle. The strong arm is back, wrapped around me almost protectively as I’m escorted into what I think is the apartment building. The doorman’s face wavers before my eyes, and my lips part as if I want to speak, but I don’t think a sound escapes. His eyes aren’t on me anyway, he’s listening to my companion, and just like that, the world begins to fade once more. My body sags, and the arm supports my weight as we continue into the building.

I blink and jerk my head to stay awake just as the floor pitches beneath my feet. The world tilts, and I’m quickly lifted into arms, my head falling limply against a shoulder.

Somewhere, in the far deep recesses of my mind, I recognize that we’ve left the elevator behind and now he’s walking.

Again, I struggle to pry my eyelashes apart. I glimpse long, blue curtains, then a narrow hall before I’m set on something soft. Those brown eyes hover above mine once more, but it’s too much work to focus on them.