CHAPTER FIVE
Journey
“Breathe in…”
I smiled as I watched all sixteen of my participants inhale deeply, their hands in the prayer position. As I took them through the warm-up exercises, I watched them closely, ready to step in if needed. The youngest of my senior group was sixty-two. The eldest was eighty-four. She was my hero. Strong and still amazingly flexible, Lois was the type of senior citizen I hoped to one day be.
Because this class was for seniors, I took them through the gentle Sukshma yoga movements before transitioning into Hatha, guiding them into the next pose.
“Inhale as you raise your arms toward the sky, keeping your shoulders nice and relaxed. Gently stretch to the left as you exhale.” Mmm… it felt so good, letting all my troubles leave me for a bit. “Inhale, and move back to center. Exhale, and stretch to the right.”
I smiled back at Jazzy as we moved into the next pose. She was almost always so happy. It was like the sun shone only for her. Even when she lost her balance and fell on her butt, she just laughed, dusted herself off and tried again.
Falling down is an accident. Staying down is a choice.
Another quote from Mee-maw. So many words of wisdom to carry us through our lives.
Bringing my participants back to center, I began another series. “Breathe in and lift…”
I smiled at the group. Then my smile faded as I spotted a man in a black hoodie racing toward our group. Before I could react or even understand his true intentions, he pushed Lois down and scooped up her purse before taking off in a sprint.
Rage fired through me like a bullet, chased by a shot of adrenaline so hot I felt it burning through my veins.
How dare he!
There was no time for any other thought as my legs took charge, and I was racing after the asshole. Did he really think he could get away with stealing from an elderly woman? Not if I could manage to get my hands on him. Especially not today. Not when my emotions were so near the surface. I’d rather run until I was exhausted than cry anyway.
I was sick and tired of the elderly being robbed… of their possessions, their hope, their comfort, and their dignity. Tired of people thinking they could take whatever they wanted. That they had some right to what wasn’t theirs.
Charles Sr.’s face sprang to my mind, and another kick of adrenaline lit a fire under my feet. I imagined the man in front of me was him, that he was running with the key to the apartment Mee-maw had worked so many years to take care of, the apartment she wanted us to have.
By some miracle, I began to catch up to the asshole, anger fueling me on, hot air burning in and out of my lungs. The man had gotten a good head start and I was about twenty yards behind. Then I was a little closer. Closer.
“Thief!” I yelled through heaving lungs. “Stop him! Thief!”
People looked in our direction, but no one moved to help out. That just pissed me off more. With or without their assistance, I’d chase him into New Jersey if I had to.
The man looked back, caught my eye. And that was his mistake. With his next step, his foot caught on something I couldn’t see, and he went flying through the air. I inwardly cheered and bore down on him, but he wasn’t down completely. He rolled, jumped to his feet, and took off again, limping a bit but still fast.
“Thief!” I yelled again when I was only about ten yards away. He didn’t look back this time. Didn’t slow.
Neither did I. I could see Lois’s purse tucked under his arm, and imagined that inside it was every penny she possessed. It made me faster. Made me ignore the stitch in my side.
Eight yards.
Six.
Four.
Two.
One.
I reached out my hand to catch the back of his hoodie, victory nearly in my grasp. From the corner of my eye, a figure blurred by me. Before I could process what was happening, the thief was being dragged to the ground, and he and another man took several rolls before landing in a heap. The newcomer was up first, his knee in the asshole’s back, his hand on his head, holding him down.
I skittered to a halt and went down on my knees too, grabbing for Lois’s purse, snatching it from his possession.
I looked up, and… wow, gazed into the bluest eyes I’d ever seen, set in a face more handsome than sin. He was breathing hard. I was too, our hot exhalations mingling in the space between us as we held down the struggling man. Both of us dripped sweat, faces red, hair sticking to our skin. But we smiled at each other as a mounted patrolman galloped up, dismounted, and took over.
My fellow purse snatcher pursuer was tall, dark, and handsome… very similar in coloring to Grant Sommerfield, except for the eyes. This man wasn’t as broad either. Leaner. Well-muscled but more like a swimmer.
Why was I thinking of Grant Sommerfield?
Before I could examine the question, the man in front of me grinned wider, and it was then that I realized I’d been staring. I blushed and pushed to my feet, wiping my hands on my cotton tank.
“I’m Nash,” he said, reaching out his hand.
Nash? Like Nashville, Tennessee? What an interesting name.
Long fingers closed around mine as I shook it. His smile was so contagious, I couldn’t stop from smiling back. “Journey. Thank you for your help.”
“Glad I could. Was runnin’ by your group and saw the whole thing happen.”
A southern gentleman by the number of vowels in that sentence — maybe he really was from Nashville — and the easy way he spoke put me immediately at ease. And those eyes. A much deeper blue than my own, they were flicked with pinpricks of white within their depths. A scruff of a beard covered a strong jaw, seeming to highlight his full lips.
The patrolman interrupted, taking our attention just as Jasmine came huffing and puffing up beside me. “Are you okay?” She started to kick the shoe of the man still lying on the ground, but I grabbed her arm, stopping her with a laugh. This kicking thing was new, and we’d have to talk about how inappropriate it was later. I had no idea why she’d started being physical.
“Hi.”
Both Jazzy and I looked up at Nash, who was still smiling. Jazzy blushed and looked up at him through her lashes, her chin nearly to her chest. “Hi.”
He stuck out a hand. “I’m Nash.”
Jazzy’s blush grew deeper, and she seemed to have lost her voice, so I did the introductions myself. “This is my sister, Jasmine. Jaz or Jazzy to the world.”
The patrolman cleared his throat, looking from me to Nash and back again. “I just have a few questions for you both.”
Nash waved a hand in a ladies first gesture, and I stepped away to answer the who, what, and when questions I’d been expecting, then stepped aside as Nash did the same thing.
Soon, the entire yoga group caught up to us, some faster than others. Lois grabbed her purse and held it to her chest. “Thank you, Journey. My grocery money was in there.”
I wrapped an arm around her thin shoulders, giving her a squeeze. “Just glad he didn’t get away with it.”
She sighed and readjusted the yoga mat tucked under her arm. “Guess I’ll have to break down and buy a fanny pack after all,” the eighty-four-year-old said. “Didn’t want to because I was afraid it’d make me look old.”
I laughed. “Nothing could do that, Lois. In fact, I’m betting you’ll bring the fanny pack back in style.”
She grinned. The woman still had her own teeth and surprisingly few wrinkles. She told me once that Vaseline applied nightly was her secret. I might need to buy me a tub or two. “I’ll think about it, that’s for sure. It never occurred to me that someone would be so brazen as to do something so horrible, at least, not in the wide open, daylight and everything.”
“People are brazen about a lot of things,” I told her, wondering if I was wrong to keep Jasmine in the big city. Maybe it would be safer to find a little seaside community or small town somewhere in the mountains.
I just didn’t know.
I never felt completely assured that I was doing the right thing by her… by me. My experience in the world was so limited.
We lived and went to school all within the same few blocks of our apartment. There really was no reason to go outside of our little space in the world. College had opened me up to new people and experiences, but I’d never lived on campus, instead biking back and forth for classes. And I’d been happy to do so. Maybe it was time to be open to more options… more choices.
A shadow fell over me, and I looked over to see that Nash was back, the big smile still on his face. I waited while Lois thanked him for his help and then my band of yoga participants went on their way, deciding that since the class had been almost over anyway, they’d see me on Thursday.
A part of me was glad. I still felt shaky from all the day’s events and wasn’t sure I could lead them back into that Zen space. And I just wanted to go home, pack mine and Jaz’s things and lose myself in a couple days of hotel living.
Nash scratched at the scruff of a beard shadowing his face. “Can I tempt both of you into joinin’ me for some dinner?” he asked, looking directly at me.
I could feel my cheeks begin to heat up under his gaze. I looked down at what I was wearing. Yoga pants, sweaty tank that covered a sports bra that was soaked through completely. “I don’t think—”
“Pizza?” Jazzy asked, her eyes wide. “I love pizza. Journey does too, but not olives or anchovies because…” She stuck her tongue out, letting the disgust speak for itself.
Nash laughed. “I happen to know an excellent pizzeria not far from here.” He turned that blue gaze back onto me. “Will you join me?”
I wiped the sweat on my palms onto my tank, a reminder of how gross I probably looked and smelled. “I’m not really—”
“That sounds awesome,” Jazzy bulldozed over me. “We only ate a puny sandwich because I caught the microwave on fire and now we have to move out of our apartment and live in a hotel, which is cool because I’ve never lived in a hotel before. There’s a swimming pool and everything.”
Nash had a puzzled look on his face as he attempted to sort through Jazzy’s words. Although she’d gone through a number of speech classes and spoke exceedingly well, her tongue was a bit thick, causing her words to sometimes slur together, especially when she was excited. And, boy, was she excited now.
“I’m actually in the process of movin’ right now too,” Nash said, smiling down at Jaz.
Her eyes grew big. “Did you catch your old place on fire too?”
He laughed. “Not the kind of fire you mean, but I did burn a few bridges along the way.”
Jazzy frowned, not understanding. Before she could begin quizzing him, I jumped in. “Pizza does sound nice.” My stomach rumbled, a reminder of just how puny that sandwich really was. “But we need to get back and pack.” When Nash’s face fell, I added, “But maybe another time?”
The grin returned. “Friday night?”
I never had plans on Friday nights, nothing past hanging out with Jasmine or maybe really living it up and taking a long bath. But this Friday evening was different. “I’m sorry. Our apartment is supposed to be ready on Friday, and—”
“Move that bus,” Jasmine chanted. “Move that bus.”
I grinned. “And we’ll be moving back in, then packing for Jaz to leave for art camp on Saturday morning.”
Nash’s gaze swiveled to my sister. “Camp sounds fun. You like art? Are you ridin’ in a bus?”
I smiled at his confusion but didn’t have time to correct him because Jazzy kept on going. She raised her hands, palms up. “Yes. A big bus, and camp is going to be amazing. I’ll be gone for three weeks. I’ve never been gone for three weeks before. They’ve got a pool there, not at the hotel, I mean. At the camp too, but I’ll be busy painting and sculpting so I don’t know if I’ll have time to swim or not.”
The blue eyes came back to me. “Three weeks, huh?”
Earlier today, my stomach had tightened, twisting each time Grant Sommerfield looked at me. It was doing the very same thing now. My libido had been in hibernation for so long, I’d forgotten what lust and desire felt like… if I’d ever really felt it at all.
I was feeling it now. Today.
First, from my landlord, a man completely out of my reach.
And now… would it be so bad to enjoy the attention of a handsome man? Maybe even, gasp, have sex while Jasmine was gone? Just a fling. Nothing more. A fun way not to miss and worry about my sister too much.
I looked at him through my lashes, feeling a flirty smile curve up my lips. I was flirting. Me. Journey Walker, practically emoting a sexy vibe. Which would probably have been more effective if I wasn’t wearing yoga gear with hair clinging to the sweat drying on my face and neck.
“How about Saturday night then?” he said, those eyes nearly penetrating me. “Dinner. Maybe catch a show.”
Jasmine clapped her hands. “Journey keeps saying that she wants to see Wicked, but I don’t like witches or winged simians, so I won’t go.” Jaz gave a visible shudder, and I smiled at her use of simian. Jaz liked using “big words” so that she would “appear smart.”
Nash faked a shudder too. “Yeah, poor Scarecrow really got his ass handed to him during that movie.” He laughed, and it was such a fun, pleasing sound. “Literally.”
Jazzy looked at him seriously. “That wasn’t funny. Scarecrow is my favorite.”
Nash’s eyes widened, the smile falling off his face. “Um… sorry. I—”
Jazzy laughed and pointed at him. “Got ya.”
Nash threw his head back and full-on howled this time. “Yeah, you did. Thought I’d just blown a date with your sister.”
I cleared my throat. “I’m still standing here, you know.”
His grin didn’t fade. “Trust me. I’m very aware of your every movement.”
His candor surprised me. Embarrassed me. Pleased me.
“My bus leaves at nine o’clock Saturday morning,” Jasmine provided helpfully and turned her light blue eyes to me. “You should go on a date, that way you won’t miss me so much.”
My heart squeezed. “I miss you already.”
Jaz rolled her eyes and shot a thumb in my direction. “She really does need to get a life.”
Well, my sister wasn’t wrong.
Jasmine pulled my phone from my bag still slung over her shoulder. That was when I realized Jaz had gathered up all my things after I’d run after the creep. Even my yoga mat was next to hers on the ground. She pressed her thumb to my phone’s button, which she had complete access to, and opened it up before tapping the icon for my contacts. She thrust the phone at Nash. “Here, put in your phone number.”
I just stared at her. “That’s my phone, you know?”
She rolled her eyes again. “I know, that’s why I gave it to him. Somebody needs to take control of this situation.”
I swear, I could look into those bright blue eyes for days, especially when they were gleaming with humor as they were doing now. He looked down at my phone and began tapping the screen. A second later, the phone encased against his bicep rang, drawing my attention to the muscles in his arm.
Nash tapped something in his ear, a wireless receiver I realized, silencing the call, and handed me my phone. The touch of his fingers was warm against mine as our skin touched. “Now we both have each other’s numbers.” He stepped closer to me, close enough so that I could smell the heat emanating from him. Sweat, yes, but something primal and raw and exceedingly masculine that seemed to curl around me, pulling me to him. “Want to get Wicked on Saturday?”
Yes. My answer is yes.
I licked my lips. Would having sex on the first date make me a slut? Should I change my mind about pizza now, so that I’d officially be having sex on our second date instead? And why was I thinking about sex, like it was a done deal, a sure thing?
I knew why.
Because of the way he looked at me. If Nash Levington looked at me like this in the middle of Central Park, causing my insides to go all jittery, I could only imagine how affected I’d be when we were alone.
I wanted to have sex with him.
But I wouldn’t.
Long ago, I swore that I’d never do anything that even came close to resembling my mother. I didn’t drink. Didn’t smoke or do drugs. And I only had sex after I’d known someone a decent amount of time.
It sounded outdated and Pollyanna-ish, but I didn’t care.
I’d had a rough start in life. My own mother had literally exposed me to many men. As I grew older, I learned more and more about the child pornography I’d been involved in. It was believed that she’d had babies — more babies than just me and Jaz — in order to sell them to the black market. Apparently, there were many people willing to adopt a baby by any means — and any price — necessary. While illegal, those children could belong to good homes. But there were other people — evil people — who wanted babies and young children to… I shuddered as I tried not to imagine why those people wanted them.
I knew how lucky I’d been. For some reason, the woman who’d given me life decided to keep me and make money off me another way.
Ticket.
I was her ticket, she said often.
And I was lucky in another way too. She’d stopped at the pictures and videos when she could have pimped me out, even at such a young age. There was a market for it, I’d learned. A big market. Men who wanted sex with babies, young children. I shuddered at the thought. Wondered how many of my own siblings were still alive and forced to submit to horrible men and women.
Why my own mother stopped at the porn, I didn’t know. And I remembered very little about it. Almost nothing, in fact. And I’d never be able to ask her because she disappeared right after Jasmine’s birth. I wondered about her sometimes. Wondered if she was alive or dead. Wondered why I even cared enough to wonder.
“Journey!”
Jasmine pulled me back from the dark place my mind had gone down. Going on a date with Nash Levington, even thinking about having sex with him, didn’t make me anything like the woman who’d given me life.
It was time I embraced new people.
New situations.
Time I became more open to the world around me, the one I’d sheltered myself from for too long.
“Yes,” I finally answered him after taking a deep breath. “Wicked sounds fun.”