Retribution

“Where is Nikki?” I asked again, trying to infuse my voice with confidence I didn’t feel.

“Not here. But she’ll be back on her feet and on the street tomorrow night.”

What? Lenny didn’t give me a chance to speak.

“I know your name, Elle, and I know where you live. If you’re smart, you’ll get yourself home and stay away from my girls before something bad happens to you, hear me?”

A second, bigger man came up behind him, and it took all I had not to run.

“You deaf or something?” he asked when I didn’t answer his question.

“Is she hurt?”

He laughed outright at my question and the other man stalked behind me.

“That a camera bag?” Lenny asked, tilting his head as if he didn’t know. “Let’s have a look before you go.”

Before I could even reach to protect it, the bigger man slipped it from my shoulder, his touch making me flinch. 

“Give that back!”

Lenny took it, inspecting it before acknowledging me. “Go home and stay there. If I see you here again, it’ll be more than your camera I take, got it?”

I looked from Lenny to the big guy and back. I wasn’t going to win any fights tonight. Not with them. Nikki had been naive to think she could walk away. I’d been naive to believe her.

“Got it.”

“Would you believe it?” Lenny asked the big guy then turned to me. “She’s smarter than she looks.”

“Everything all right here?” The voice came from behind Lenny. I’d been so caught up in the moment, I’d neither seen him approach nor registered the rumbling of his bike.

The two men turned. Adam climbed off the Harley without a hint of fear on his face.

“Boyfriend come to rescue you?” Lenny tried, although his laugh sounded nervous. He wasn’t a big guy, kind of scrawny, actually, but I could see the piece he carried in plain sight, and what he lacked in muscle, his friend made up for and then some.

Adam walked solidly toward us, his gaze fixed on the men. “City needs to clean up its trash problem,” he said, sizing them up and making sure they knew he remained unimpressed.

“Who is this?” Lenny asked no one specific.

Reaching into his jacket, Adam smiled and pulled out a piece twice as large as the one Lenny carried. I gasped, shocked, although at the same time, not.

“Who I am doesn’t matter. I believe you have the lady’s camera.”

“It’s mine now,” Lenny said then gestured for his friend who took one step before Adam shifted the aim of the pistol and shot at the ground. The big guy and I screamed at the sound. Adam had shot the man’s foot.

Police lights flashed, cruisers turning the corner.

“Run!” Lenny tossed the camera at Adam and ran, the big guy limping behind him. Adam slid his weapon back into its holster tucked inside his jacket, seeming relaxed as the patrol car parked and two officers climbed out. 

I wasn’t sure how he’d explain what had happened.

“Mr. Smith,” one officer said, smiling. “Everything okay here?” He glanced at me before shifting his gaze back to Adam.

Confused, I watched the interaction between them.

“Evening, Dave. Perfect timing, as usual. My friend here seems to be lost,” he said, his hand coming to rest at my lower back.

“I see. This neighborhood is no place for a lady,” he said.

“No. No, it’s not,” I stammered.

“I’ll take her home. She lives in my building.”

The officer nodded. “Good to see you, Mr. Smith.”

“Likewise.”

We stood watching as the officers drove away.

“What are you doing here?” I asked Adam, finding it strange, him showing up when he did.

“I needed to drop by one of my projects and recognized your car. I wondered, in fact, what you were doing here?”

I rubbed my face, realizing how differently this night could have turned out if Adam hadn’t shown up when he did. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time, but we’ll do it someplace more comfortable. Let’s go.”

“My car is—”

“Not sure you’re okay to drive. You seem shaken up.”

I laughed, on the verge of tears. “Well, being threatened by a pimp then watching you shoot his henchman in the foot is enough to shake anyone up, I think.” 

Adam nodded. “I should have aimed higher,” he said, turning me toward his bike. “Let’s go.”

“I want to get my car. I don’t want to leave it.”

“It’ll be fine where it is. I’ll bring you to pick it up tomorrow morning. Hop on.”

My hands shook, and although I’d managed to keep it together so far, with the endorphins leaving my system, the stress of what had happened needed an outlet. 

He was right. I was in no condition to drive, but I didn’t want him to see me cry. I nodded and followed him to the bike, figuring if a tear or two slipped, he wouldn’t see it if I was behind him. He straddled the bike, and I climbed on and wrapped my arms around his waist, liking being so close, feeling safe as I held on tight when the bike roared to life and he drove off.

*Text modified for website.