It was the eyes, though, that puzzled her, which took her painful breath away again. They were the color of old gold, but the black iris in the center was a slit, like cat eyes. Not only that, the cornea filled his whole eye opening. It was all the color of the old gold with the lines of deep brown etching out from the black slit as seen in cats or goats, but never in humans.
There was a deep wound above his temple in the hairline—so deep, she actually saw bone structure as well as the open flesh. There was a channel of blood flowing down the side of his face, in fact, so much blood that the tee shirt under his jacket on that side was dark with the wet thick moisture.
“Medicine?” His voice was low and harsh.
Beth knew the names of the medicines from the many audits she had performed, but she had no idea what they were. She knew they were under lock and key, yet, she didn’t know if they helped people. He shook her like a rag until she finally yelped. She held out her free hand, pointing in the direction of the medicine closet. With her feet barely touching the floor, he moved her in that direction. Beth was surprised to find the stupid watch cat standing in front of one of the cabinets.
He looked around, moving her beside the cabinet, keeping himself between her and the door. He finally let her go. Beth leaned against the next cabinet in order to keep from falling. She was again aware of how tall he was. Beth was also aware that he was hurt, and that it must be bad, because he put his hands against the metal frame with glass front cabinet to hold himself up for a moment.
“Look, if you need help, these medicines won’t do it. I can get a paramedic unit here in ten minutes. They will have something for humans, not for dogs.” She was speaking low. She had heard rumors that some medicines in animal clinics were miss-used by junkies. Beth didn’t want to guess which ones. Some might even help people, but she just had no idea.
He glanced at her with those strange eyes. Beth thought they must be contact lenses. Why would someone wear a type that covered the whole eye? There was no white showing at all. She also thought that for the first time, he was really seeing her. He must have just known her as a body in his way, but now, he was looking at her closely, taking in her face, his gaze moving down over her body, to her legs, then slowly back up. Self consciously, she pushed her hair behind her shoulder, but didn’t back away. She thought of the caged dogs in the clinic.
Do not show them fear or they will attack
, so she took that advice with him.
“I can help.” Beth didn’t move or didn’t hold out a hand, but just stood, leaning on the cold cabinet looking at him. She was taking small breaths to keep her rhythm even.
“You probably can, but not in the way you think, not this time.” His voice was still low and rough. There was a hint of an accent. She couldn’t place it—maybe Scottish or Irish, but very far removed. He was looking at the meds through the window. The watch cat rose up, arching its back, rubbing against the glass, then disappearing down the hallway.
Beth jumped backwards as he slammed his fist into the wired glass, wrapped a hand around the bent frame and pulled it towards him. The whole door on that side came out as he tossed it behind him. He reached in, taking handfulls of bottles along with sealed boxes. He stepped back and pulled out a couple of drawers, finding needles. Other drawers held balls of cotton with cotton wrappings. He turned to a table behind him, placing a bottle with the cotton on it.
“I need you to apply this to the cut on my head.”
Beth watched almost in a trance as he took off his jacket pulling his shirt off over his head. She was correct. He was all muscle under the skin. When he turned, there was a deep raw burn across his back. It looked painful, the type that would leave a scar. Left untreated, there was the danger of infection. She knew she had made a small noise because he looked back at her.
“Are you going to be able to apply the medicine. or are you going to faint?” He was pointing at the cotton balls. Beth nodded slowly, coming closer to him. She opened the bottle, soaked the cotton, and started to reach up to apply it to his forehead, but she hesitated before touching him. “I’m not a nurse. I don’t know what I am putting on you. Are you sure you want me to do this?”
He looked down at her for a long moment, so close she felt the heat of his body. “If you are unable to help me, you are of no use to me.”
Beth took only a second to realize the threat in that sentence. She applied the cotton to his head, catching a smell of antiseptic.
So, the bottle must be some type of cleansing solution.
She reapplied several cotton piles until the blood had stopped. It dawned on her she didn’t have on any rubber gloves or protection. She sure as hell hoped he didn’t have any contagious disease buried in that blood.
He handed her tape strips. She applied a pad, using the tape to hold it in place, knowing he would lose some of that dark hair when he removed the tape later. Beth lowered her hands as he turned to open a box, pulled out a tube and handed it to her. Beth looked at it as he turned his back to her. She quickly understood he wanted her to apply whatever was in the tube to the burn on his back. She took a deep breath and squeezed out a large dosage of white cream. As gently as she could, she began to cover the burn with the salve. He gave no indication, yet she felt he had to be in deep pain, since that type of burn was below the skin.
When she was done, she stepped back. He then took the tube from her hands. He pulled his dirty shirt back on, and picked up a plastic liner from a wastebasket under a sink.
“Wash your hands.”
Beth was surprised at his instructions so she hesitated.
“Do you need help?” He asked as he was looking down at her.
Beth didn’t want him to touch her again, so she moved over carefully to the sink, using the special soap used by the Vets, and scrubbed her hands. Perhaps he
did
have something wrong with his blood.
In the meantime, she was aware he was gathering up all the cotton from the table. He wiped it with the antiseptic, and put everything into the bag. He turned and pulled bottles and boxes from the cabinet, some off the different shelves. She thought it looked like he was just pulling at random. When his bag was full, he turned, picked up his jacket, and held it on the same side as the bag. He turned so he faced her, taking a step towards her.
“What do they call you?”
She hesitated, then answered him when he placed a hand under her chin to raise her face upward towards his. “Beth, that is...Elizabeth Donald.”
“Okay, Beth Elizabeth Donald, you have two choices. I can knock you out, or you can give me five minutes before you call the police. So, far, you have been smart. Continue to play it that way. Just wait the five minutes. At least you won’t have a bruise. Can you do that?”
She found it hard to look up into those strange eyes, still wondering if they were contacts. By now, he had let go of her chin. Now she couldn’t look away. That old gold just drew her in.
Beth heard his deep voice say, “Beth, make your choice.”
Finally, she shook herself as she forced herself to step back. “I will wait five minutes.”
“Good girl.”
Then, he was gone. Beth was surprised at how fast he had moved. She was astounded how quiet it was. She didn’t even hear the back door close. Maybe he didn’t go out that way.
Beth slowly came out into the hallway to look both ways, choosing to turn towards the front reception area. The glass showed only darkness beyond the lights in the parking area, no movement. She walked over to check the door and found it closed and still locked. Beth shifted and went down the hall to the back door, also finding it closed as if it had never been opened. This area was as she had left it, with the one box opened that she had been working in. By this time, she figured most of the five minutes had passed, so she picked up a house phone instead of her cell to calmly dial nine one one.
The cops were there before Reggie returned. Beth was giving her statement to a team of a man and woman detective unit, who were checking out her ID’s that she had pulled from her bag. They had asked if they could go through her bag. She had consented.
A paramedic had checked out her neck. A police photographer had taken photos of her neck and the arm bruises. It got bad. They took samples from her hands, but found no traces of any blood or medicine. Beth explained he had told her to clean her hands. They checked the sink, again finding no traces.
Although the bag was missing from the waste can, there was no trace of anything on the tray. There were no fingerprints or handprints on the broken cabinet. From the items taken, it was hard to pin point exactly what he was after. The only prints in the room were hers or some of the Clinic staff. This small clinic didn’t have video protection.
Although she had been so proud in watching him so that she could give a good description, she couldn’t, for the life of her, remember if he had gloves on. Beth didn’t think he did, but she could not swear to it either way. As she gave a rendition of his eyes, things really went south fast.
Beth was questioned as to whether she had been drinking, if she might have known the thief, since she had let him in with no problem. Suddenly, she became a possible co-conspirator.
Corporate headquarters called and stated that she and Reggie must return immediately. They sent out another pair of auditors to redo what they had started at this Clinic.
At headquarters, she underwent her own audit. They were going to discharge her based on the police report. Even though she was never officially accused of any crime, they had too many questions that couldn’t be cleared up. An auditor had to be squeaky clean.
Beth lost her job and her retirement fund. She also lost any bonuses she had built. A pair of golden eyes had cost her the life that she loved.
That was the first time she had met him. At that time, all she could hope was that she would never meet him again.
It was six months before Beth
did
see
him again. She had finally found a solid job. It didn’t pay as much. They didn’t give the benefits. It was the best she could do, because she didn’t have references.
Beth was doing standard bookkeeping for a small construction office. She was redoing their old style system on an outdated PC. The owner, an older woman, was happy that her old rusty system was getting a free upgrade. Beth didn’t mind the lack of polish in her tiny little office.
One of the guys from the back stuck his head in the door waiting for her to look up. “Hey, Beth, we’re going out for beers after work, even Ev is coming. It’s at Range’s, right around the corner, so no one has to clean up. We won’t stay long, even though it’s Friday. If you need a ride, let me know.”
He was gone without giving her a chance to decline. Ev was the owner, so that made it hard to say
no
anyways. Shit, she really did not want to get social with anyone right now.
Beth was able to dress down at this little work office— jeans, a sleeveless tee with a long sleeve cover up to hide the too generous bust. However, the outfit would fit in at Range’s because that bar was a fairly safe biker’s bar.
Okay, she would have a beer with the gang in order to seem to fit in, then she’d go home early. Money was tight, as she’d used up some of her savings to buy the old jeep she was using to get to work. The cheap apartment had very little furniture, a TV with no cable, and little or poor parking. It was the right price.
She finished up, shutting everything down for the weekend. She went out to her jeep. As she pulled into the parking lot, two of the guys from the back workshop saw her, waved her over, and waited so she would go in with them. Beth actually appreciated the company. The construction firm did mostly woodwork, so none of her fellow workers ever got that dirty. They just had on baggy jeans and sweaty shirts. The blast of frigid AC that hit them as they entered the bar was welcome.
The bar was typical, dark with red lights from the flickering candles buried in the red glasses that were all along the bar. They were also on every scarred table. The rest of the light came from the exit signs, the restroom signs or any of the beer advertisements behind the bar. The music from the juke box was loud. The click of the pool games in the rear was ceaseless. The two waitresses were looking tired already, although the evening was just starting for them. Yah, Friday night with working men that had money in their pockets, yet more importantly the need for beers.
The team had a table with some of the guys at it already. They pulled up empty chairs. Ted, one of the guys who entered with her, leaned over as she sat down and spoke in her ear so she could hear over the music. “Big Bull is the owner. He keeps things safe. He shuts down fights really fast. He gets drunks home safe. It ain’t the Ritz—still, they have good burgers, using real beef. None of that processed cheese.”
Beth gave him a smile of thanks. As she took her seat, the waitress was there with a tray full of longnecks. They passed them around, and—
surprise
—she found one in front of her. Ev came in and found a seat next to her. Everyone had beers, so now, the talk got louder. She just sat, enjoying listening to men who had no real problems except paying their taxes, wives or the next pick-up.
Beth didn’t have to join in with the noise this loud, so she could just relax not think about what she had lost. Sitting there, she thought maybe she would get a dog. Ev seemed like the type who would allow a dog in the office.
One of the guys asked her to dance. Everyone on the floor was doing the two-step, but she preferred to stay at the table. Unfortunately, the whole gang thought it was a good idea they should dance. The more she shook her head in a negative manner, the more they pushed her upright, even Ev, until she was on her feet. The next thing she knew, she was facing the guy, hands on his shoulders, moving backwards in the easy traditional two-step done mostly in western bars.
The floor was rough uneven old wood. It was filled with a lot of dancers, some not as competent as her partner who was weaving carefully around the crowd. Everyone seemed to be laughing at the mishaps.