Blood Red

A part of it was frustration. A big part. Sometimes being a decent human being sucked raw eggs. There was no way in hell that he would ever take advantage of an unconscious woman, but the reptilian part of his brain was kicking the crap out of his morals and had been since the early morning when he answered the door to find Maggie outside.

He was not a big man and accepted that he never would be, but carrying Maggie into his apartment had been easy enough. She couldn’t weigh much more than a hundred and fifteen tops. He was guessing, of course, because he had no clue about how much a girl her height should weigh. At any rate, he’d managed to get her inside without killing himself or even straining any muscles.

Maggie put her arms around his neck and held on to him when he carried her back to his bedroom. Her pulse was fast and her skin was pale enough that she looked like porcelain. He set her down on his bed and fretted, unsure about whether or not he should call for an ambulance.

“Maggie? Should I call someone? A doctor maybe?”

“No. No, I just need to rest.” She had barely even moved her lips. He nodded, looking at her closed eyes and knowing that she couldn’t see the gesture. Somehow it failed to register. Common sense had flown out the window and didn’t seem inclined to come back home.

He watched her fall into a deep sleep, and caught himself looking at her body as she lay prone on his bed.

For just a minute, he gave serious thought to taking advantage of the situation.

He left the room before he could act on any impulses.

Then he went outside to gather her purse and her shoes. He spotted her car keys halfway across the courtyard and got those, too.

Her possessions were almost worse than seeing her on his bed. That obnoxious little voice kept telling him it was okay to look through her personal possessions, that she wouldn’t mind at all. It told him that there might be indications of a medical condition, or possibly signs that she had taken something illegal that she was having a bad reaction to. It whispered a hundred different reasons why it would be perfectly fine with Maggie if he violated her privacy.

Just to distract himself, he went back to check on her in his bed. She did not sleep peacefully. She moaned from time to time and she whined, and damned near every sound that came out of her mouth could have been taken as something sexual.

And damned near every thought that went through his head involved taking advantage of the situation.

When he couldn’t take it anymore, he left his own apartment and paced out in the courtyard for close to two hours. He kept himself busy until physical exhaustion finally got the better of him and then he went back inside and dropped on the couch. The next thing he knew, Maggie was waking him up.

That had been torture. She was smiling and he wanted so much just to kiss her, to touch her. Any contact at all. So she made it worse by sitting next to him.

After she’d left his apartment, he went back to his bedroom and passed out on the covers, surrounded by her scent. When he woke up, the sun was on its way down for the night. His entire body seemed ready to explode.

So, yes, part of his dilemma was frustration; he’d had what could have potentially been a perfect situation for taking advantage of her, and had let it slip away.

Fifteen minutes of fun would never ease the guilt. That was what it came down to. She was more than a physical desire. She was someone he wanted to know and be friends with. She was someone he loved to see and to talk to, when his fucking emotions weren’t going into overdrive.

So he’d done the right thing and that was how he would always look at it. But there was something else, too. Something about the situation he’d been in had triggered a response in him that had nothing to do with love, or sex, or even wanting to be her friend.

Deep inside his chest there was a burning, gnawing dread growing: something was going to happen to Maggie, and there was nothing at all he could do about it.

Shit, what could I do? I don’t even know her cell phone number.

So instead of worrying about Maggie, a process that would surely drive him half insane if he let it, he thought about his childhood and how much he’d enjoyed Halloween as a kid.

Everything was simpler back then: his mother and father were still in the picture when he was still young enough to trick or treat. It wasn’t until later that his family had fallen to pieces. He hadn’t had to worry about anyone but himself, and even that burden had been shouldered by his parents.

Ben got off his couch and went back to his room and dressed himself in presentable clothes. He had no idea where he planned to go; only that he had to get there.

Something bad was going to happen. He could feel it. The thing that mattered to him was making sure that whatever happened, Maggie was still safe.