Elizabeth Finn: Immortal Protector

“The nose ring’s fine. The hair isn’t you.” And then he stood and moved to the door.

When he reached the door, she mustered the last of her drunken voice and spoke. “Will I see you again?”

He stopped and turned, and with a twinkling wink and beautiful smirk, he responded. “Someday. Sleep.” And as her eyes sunk closed, she did, and the memory of him faded once more into some dark recess in her mind.

When Ember woke the night after the party, she was late. Her shift at the coffee shop started at seven thirty, and cussing and muttering all the way out the house, she leaped into her car. She didn’t even have time to shower, and she smelled like booze—brilliant. On her way to work, she thought about the night before—or what she could recall of it. She remembered speaking with Todd; hell, she even remembered him coming on to her, but then nothing. She woke in her bed, clothed in her nightgown, but she had no idea how she’d gotten there. For a moment, she thought she must be crazy or maybe she’d been roofied, but she felt sane, her body felt fine, and finally giving up on her lost memories, she decided she must have been far drunker than she recalled. Once she arrived at The Bean, she stumbled through her day.

Her morning ticked off slowly as her hangover made her brain throb and her body ache. She was counting the minutes until she could return home and collapse into bed. Sitting at the counter, she prayed she wouldn’t have to help another customer.

“I’ll have a dark roast, black.” His voice was warm and invaded her thoughts, and when she peered up at him, annoyed he’d spoken before she had acknowledged him, she froze. His eyes were amazing. They were a cool shade of hazel or green, and they watched her. He was beautiful. Pale and impossibly perfect. His voice wasn’t the only thing that caught her attention. It was every last piece of him. Total hotness. His lips were supple and slightly parted as he studied her. Her body flushed as he watched her, and her mind raced with thoughts of him. He wasn’t from here. His dress said that clear enough. He was in a suit, dark and wool. His tie was tied with perfection at his neck, and there wasn’t a single cuff out of place. “Ember.” His voice interrupted her thoughts. He knew her, and for some reason this didn’t surprise her, though she was certain she’d never met this man before. You couldn’t forget meeting such a person.

“How do you know my name?” Her voice was almost accusatory as she said it, and though she could hear the accusation in her voice, she failed to stifle it. The subtle smirk he returned made it clear he wasn’t offended.

With a hand that reached to her chest slowly, he touched her name badge. His finger didn’t stray from the badge, but her body trilled as it was pressed lightly into her skin, and as his finger withdrew moments later after having invaded her space, he continued to regard her coolly. “Dark roast, please; black.” His words again interrupted her thoughts as she realized she’d been standing frozen since meeting his eyes.

“Oh, yeah … yeah. Sorry. Uh … that’s two fifty-six, please.” His hand reached out once more to Ember’s, and as she fumbled to take the money and the change dropped to the counter, his other hand clasped her. His touch was off. Something felt wrong with it, but she couldn’t place it. He wasn’t cold, he wasn’t hot, and his touch simply confused her. As he placed the change in Ember’s hand, he curled her fingers toward her palm, sealing the money within her weak and shaky grasp.

As he walked away, she admired his body. Hotness was an understatement. Her hand still gripped the money he’d placed so intentionally in her palm, but her gaze appeared to be glued like tractor beams to his body at the moment, and his money was forgotten. He was tall, but not towering; he was lean, but not too slim; he was strong, but not bulky. He moved like a gentleman. Like a man with confidence. Like a lawyer or something. His movement looked effortless and easy, not nearly so chaotic and clumsy as her own.

When his coffee was up, rather than calling him to the counter, she approached him. Her hands were shaking as she held his cup, and she cussed herself instantly for wanting to be near him when it was far safer for her fleeting coolness to hang back and let him fetch his own drink. As she set the cup on the table, it sloshed its hot liquid, and she panicked in humiliation. When his fingers once again met with her own, it was to still her quick attempt to clean the small mess from the table. “Thank you, Ember. I can take care of it.” His eyes held hers as she breathed heavy, nervous breaths while trying her damndest to hold his demanding gaze.

Once back at the counter, she tried to immerse herself in the job. It was late morning, and the crowd had tapered off considerably since her arrival. Her shift would end at noon, but she already wanted to flee. The Bean was usually a place she was comfortable in, but as she moved around cleaning tables and refilling sugar packets, she felt his gaze on her. He was reading a book of some sort, but while his head stayed facing the book in front of him, his eyes did not, and on more than one occasion, she caught his shimmering greenish-brown gaze studying her. They were seductive eyes, and his gaze followed her effortlessly as she moved, not so much as pulling his head in her direction, but just following. When he finally stood to leave, it was with a subtle nod of the head to her as he passed and one final comment. “Take care, Ember.” Approaching his table, she found a full cup of cold coffee and a twenty-dollar tip.

She couldn’t help but feel as though she’d seen this man before, but of course, it was impossible. She would remember such an encounter as that. She could likely want a man like him in her life one day … once she was old enough for one. Her friends far surpassed her own experience with men … but then again, they didn’t carry the memories of how monstrous men could be in their minds with them daily. Ember didn’t consider herself a victim anymore; or a survivor, for that matter. She was happy, content, and for the most part, just normal. Painfully plain and normal—hence the red hair and nose ring: just a desperate attempt to be different, to make herself less invisible. A man such as him could never want a girl like Ember, and yet, he watched her like he did.

When Ember was finally off work, she stopped by the drugstore on her way home and picked up a box of color. Two days before, she loved the crimson red. Suddenly, she couldn’t wait to be a plain-Jane brown head again. Once her hair was back to its natural shade of dog shit, she collapsed into bed and slept. She dreamed of the handsome man and his cool gaze. She dreamed of being curled up beside him in her bed. They were talking and nothing more, and while she inexplicably wished they were doing more, she felt secure and safe. Ember didn’t like men … or at least she didn’t enjoy trying to trust them enough to like them, but she liked this one, and in her dream, he had liked her too, and it was the most real dream she’d ever had.

Three Years Later

When Katherine passed away when Ember was just entering her last semester of her sophomore year of college, it wasn’t a surprise to either of them. Ember had watched her mother waste away and die in front of her eyes as the cancer ravished her beautiful, too-young body. Katherine had fought and sought for Ember since she was born, and on the night before her death she gave Ember the last words she would ever speak. “You’ve been my most favorite part of life.” Her words were strained from her pain, but her mind seemed clear and convicted. “I love you, Ember.”