Carol Steward - Her Kind Of Hero

Tom sat down and leaned back, folding his hands behind his head. “She’s digging herself in deep, Luke. If we’re looking for her, you can bet they’re even closer to finding her.”

Friday night Jon and Nate finished supper and went to Nate’s bedroom. Nate’s little brother ran into the room, screeching about not getting to watch his favorite show. The eight-year-old wouldn’t be quiet.

“Mom! Tell James to leave us alone.”

“I sent him to his room. He won’t leave your sister alone, and I can’t take any more of their fighting.”

“And what’re we supposed to do?” Nate argued with his mother as if she had the power to mend all of their problems. Jon felt sorry for her, but he couldn’t tell Nate that. As far as his friend was concerned, he was the only one hurting. Nate felt like no one understood. Jon was trying.

“We’re going to Jon’s.”

Jon didn’t argue, though he knew he should have. His dad had gone ahead to the hockey game with Tom and they wouldn’t be home for hours. He knew his dad didn’t like him having friends over when he wasn’t home. It wasn’t that his dad didn’t trust him, but he knew other kids sometimes didn’t think before doing stupid things. For a dad, his was okay.

“C’mon, Jon. Let’s get outta here.”

Nate led the way down the stairs and out the front door of the building.

“Where are you going?”

“Out. I’m sick of this place.”

“Let’s just go to my apartment like you told your mom, Nate. What if she comes looking for you?”

“She never checks up on me—she’s too tired to think of it. You coming or not?” Nate’s language turned foul more often these days, and nothing anyone did was worthy of his attention. Jon didn’t know what to do to help. But he had to try.

They headed down the street, meeting a couple of kids Jon recognized from school. From the way Nate greeted them, Jon realized this wasn’t the first time his friend had escaped to the streets.

He looked around uncomfortably.

“Daddy on duty tonight, Northrup?”

He shook his head. That didn’t matter. Everyone in the precinct knew him.

“Come on, Nate, let’s split.”

“In a minute.”

Nate continued to talk with the group, which had doubled in size since they arrived. The gang headed down an alley. Jon lagged behind, unsure what was going on, but he knew he didn’t want to be here.

They walked to a park, meeting up with a couple of older guys. After a few minutes, Jon got up the courage to tell Nate he was going home.

“You can’t Your dad’ll ask questions, and if you go to my house, my mom’ll get all uptight”

He pulled Nate away from the gang. “This is stupid, Nate. Let’s go to my apartment. We can play video games, order a pizza, whatever.”

“Time for business.” The guy they called “Tiger” looked at them. “You in or out?”

Jon watched as everyone looked at him, expecting him to chicken out Daring him. He’d heard what happened when they suspected a snitch. If he ditched out now, he’d be in deep trouble. And if his dad found out, it would be even worse.

Calli picked up her paycheck and rushed past the checkout lanes. She tucked the paper and two videos into her backpack, waving to her boss on the way out.

Ten minutes behind schedule already, she parked the rental car and ran into the recreation center. Hanna met her in the lobby and they rushed to the women’s locker room where Calli changed into her sweats and a T-shirt.

“It’s a class of women.” Calli said, watching Hanna brush her hair then freshen her makeup. “We’re practicing self-defense, Hanna,” she said with a laugh. “There’s no need to primp.”

Her fair-haired cousin was an easy target for muggers. Precise schedule, expensive car, drop-dead attractive. Over the years, Calli had tried telling Hanna to vary her routine, as well as other safety precautions. It wasn’t until a woman had been attacked a block from Hanna’s office that she’d been persuaded to pay attention to Calli’s advice.

“I don’t know, Bart’s kinda cute.”

“And kinda married.” Calli laughed. “Not your type.”

Hanna tossed the brush down. “I didn’t see a wedding ring.” Then as if there’d been no interest at all, she changed the subject. “Do we have to do anything ‘real’ tonight? Like flips or anything?”

“Probably a few moves. You’ll do fine. Let’s go.”

Hanna pulled her hair into a ponytail at the top of her head and they rushed out the door. “Easy for you to say. You’ve been tossing men over your shoulder since you were a kid.”

“I was merely defending myself. If you had brothers you’d know how to take care of yourself, too.” Calli had carefully locked those memories away, and yet with that innocent reminder, they returned. Calli would never forget the first time she successfully flipped her older brother. Her dad took her for an ice-cream cone right before dinner, ignoring her mother’s protests. To this day, Calli never figured out why her mom had been protesting; had it been the nature of the celebration, or the fact that the ice cream would ruin her dinner?

“Did you know that your dad tried to convince my mother to let him teach me self-defense once?” Hanna acted as if this was entertainment.

Calli stared ahead, afraid to open the door to the past any further than a tiny crack. Few people could overlook her father’s tough militaristic exterior, and even fewer saw the loving emotional side that he reserved for his family. She slipped back through that door and slammed it closed. “Dad was a good instructor, but so is Bart. He knows what he’s doing.”

Hanna told her about her latest date, and the two started laughing. Calli didn’t enjoy the dating game like her cousin did. For Hanna, meeting new people was fun, but Calli rarely went out, and only with men she knew well. Calli and Hanna joined the rest of the class on the mats and they began stretching.

Suddenly, hushed voices buzzed around her. She turned just as Luke Northrup introduced himself as their new instructor. Calli’s smile disappeared.

“Bart broke his leg and asked me to take his place. I’m a certified instructor, and have taught personal safety with him before.”

The other women seemed to have the same reaction to the handsome man as she had. Tonight he wore a black tank top and sweats, and as before, his hair looked as if he’d just used his fingers as a comb. His five o’clock shadow wasn’t as pronounced as it had been at the ski resort, but he still had that air of authority which commanded instant attention.

Okay, God, what are you up to? I thought we agreed, no cops. Then she recalled Luke’s gentler side. The care and concern he had shown at the hospital. The way he comforted her when she clung to him after the skiing accident. His tenderness was as startling as an ice cube on a hot summer day.

As they visited over coffee, she had relaxed and temporarily put the past behind her. Luke had never recognized her from their meeting at the hospital. But once again, he teased and tormented the emotions she’d long locked away. Then suddenly she caught herself entertaining the notion of seeing him once more. Before he could ask her for her phone number, she politely thanked him for the coffee and ran.

There wasn’t room for a man in her life. Especially not this one. Not one who made her forget her past, her mission, her mistakes. Not even for a minute.

Luke’s steady gaze bored into hers in silent expectation. Their eyes met—dueling, dancing, laughing. There was that maddening hint of arrogance again.

She found herself studying him as he turned his attention back to the class. Was she imagining it, or had his back straightened, his shoulders become broader and his determination grown stronger?