Ugly Girl Page 3

  Judah’s imagination usually ran somewhere between The Shire and Mordor. “That’s a pretty solid theory. Is that backed by the Medical School of Vampire-Elf-Tinkerbell?”

  “It is, actually. Doctor Peter Pan himself endorsed my conjecture.”

  I raised my eyebrow at him. “Wait, you’re gaming tonight? Aren’t you going out with Jill? It’s your anniversary. Five years, dude.”

  Judah grimaced. “Oh, man! You’re right. I totally blanked. Do you think I can pass off any of these books as an anniversary gift?”

  “Um, being that she’s hoping for an engagement ring, I’m guessing a used book on graphic design would be a giant step down.”

  Judah paled. “She’s not expecting a ring. Why would she think we’re ready for something like that?”

  “I dunno. Five years together is a long time. Plus, her roommate just got engaged.”

  “Yeah, but Tonya’s a senior. We’re juniors. We’ve got years of time before conversations like that have to come up. Why can’t we just leave well enough alone?”

  I smiled and clasped my hands together under my chin, gazing up at the white, puffy clouds. “One day, I hope to have my very own boyfriend who dodges the ‘where is this going’ speech at every turn. Totally dreamy.” I balked when Judah opened his book again, and flipped through a few pages. “Are you seriously going back to reading when you’ve got nothing planned for your anniversary tonight?”

  “I seriously am. Jill has no reason to think I’m proposing tonight.”

  “Sure, but she might be hoping for flowers or something that says you appreciate that she’s stuck around for five whole years.”

  Judah shrugged, avoiding my penetrating stare by burying his nose in his book. “Quit with the nagging. Be my hot mama and just enjoy the afternoon with me.” He always used ridiculous terms of endearment when I was pissed at him, or when he wanted to make me laugh. We liked to pretend we were the shiz. Our own VIP party for two suited us well, though it made the rest of world raise their eyebrows at us.

  “Okay, pimp daddy. I’m just trying to make sure Jill doesn’t murder you. It’s not a bad thing that a woman wants to spend her life with you. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to either make a commitment or set her free.”

  Judah put his book on his knee and turned so I could look into his dark brown eyes, which were framed with the thick black plastic rims of his glasses. “Rosie, for better or worse, till death do us part, you’re my best friend. That’s about as committed as I’ll ever get.”

  I smiled at him. “Aw. That was sweet. Thanks, Player.”

  “Anytime, Boo.”

  I turned my attention back to my studying. “Jill’s still going to murder you dead if you show up with a used book instead of something relationshippy. Fair warning. I like my BFF in one piece.”

  “Which piece would you like? I can have Jill send it to you, because I don’t have enough for something nice for her.”

  A twig snapped a ways behind me, alerting us that we were not alone. Judah stood so we didn’t look so couply, and I watched his expression twist into confusion. “Can I help you, man?”

  The footsteps quickened into a swift march. They were heavy and determined as they neared us. When the mid-seventies-aged man filled my vision, I decided he was definitely not a runner who’d skipped off the trail. The black cloak that hung off him looked Red Riding Hood-ish (except, you know, it was black). The stranger stood tall over me, even though he was stooped with age. His face was scarred on one side, like he’d suffered through a painful acid burn. It left the cheek pock-marked and lined with what looked like permanent claw indentations.

  Wilbur left my lap when I stood, and I knew he was waiting for me to move away from the stranger before spraying him, which I appreciated. “Sorry. We were just leaving. You can have the tree.” The good tree. The one that curved perfectly to my body and had a root system that felt like a cozy chair and fit my hips like a hug. I stood, scooping up my book and dumping the rest of the bread and seeds out of the bags for my buddies to eat.

  “Are you the daughter?” he said with too much intensity, his blue eyes boring into my matching ones. His breath stank like rotting kitty litter. When he reached out to clutch my shoulder, his gnarled fingers bent around my bone like steel that didn’t fit with his old man physique. “Are you her?” he demanded.

  “Whoa! Hands off, buddy.” Judah gripped the much bigger man’s arm, and was rewarded with a hard shove that actually made him stumble back, trip and fall on his backside.

  Pure anger rose in me whenever anyone was nasty to Judah. “Hands off!” I warned. When old dude didn’t comply, I wriggled and shoved him as hard as I could.

  Old dude’s scarred face barely registered any offense. He didn’t budge, his fingers still digging into my shoulder. “Oh, the reward I’ll get for coming back with you!”

  I tried to shake him off as the squirrels ran around me to create a living, breathing barrier, making sure that though his hand could get at me, the rest of him couldn’t. His skin was covered in yet more squirrels, who attacked and bit into his flesh with vigor, defending me with everything in their arsenals. “Back off, dude! I don’t know who you’re looking for, but I’m not her. Get lost and leave us alone.”

  “The animals! I know you’re the Lost Daughter of Avalon.” His tone was accusatory, as if he was announcing some big scandal. “Finally! You’re coming with me.”

  “Okay, now I’m pissed. You’re hurting me!” I tried to struggle free, but surprise and the beginnings of fear started flooding into my pores. I didn’t want to hurt the old man, but I also didn’t like strangers putting their hands on me. I reached out and popped him in the chest with the flat of my hand, torn between guilt at shoving an old dude, and confusion that my shove had little effect. When that did nothing, I took a swing and socked him across the jaw. In the next second, I was immediately horrified that I’d struck a senior citizen. “I’m sorry!”

  Judah scrambled to his feet and lobbed a punch at the guy, missing the mark and letting panic fuel his punch more than calculated rage. The man jabbed Judah in the stomach, and I watched with dread as my best friend doubled over in pain he’d not been seasoned to shake off.

  I wasn’t quite so delicate. Judah was more the book type than the muscular type. I was more the bar brawl type when someone crossed Judah and put their hands on me. Despite the fact that he was an old man, my conscience muted and I saw red. My fist launched from my body and knocked the old dude across the face once more, but again, the power I packed behind my punch did nothing but irritate him. I was temporarily stunned. I’d decked a few guys in my time, and none of them had behaved like they were being annoyed by a fly. This old dude was no joke. I was beginning to see that Judah was a liability, and that I wasn’t a huge asset either.

  3

  Angel of Vengeance in Flannel

  “Help!” I screamed, alerting no one. I told the squirrels to move, and then kicked out at his stomach, but he was determined I should stay where I was in his clutches. I kicked at his knee with my best soccer goal thrust, feeling horrible that I was attacking an elderly man who was clearly off his meds, and most likely ate spinach every day to maintain his Popeye-like strength. The kick finally allowed me to break free, so I bent down and picked up my heavy textbook. I didn’t hesitate for my conscience to slow my swing as I bashed an entire year’s worth of theorems against the old dude’s temple.

  I’d always wondered what Popeye would look like as an old man. Trade in the black cloak for the sailor outfit, and this salty jag was a dead ringer for a seventy-year-old Popeye.

  My squirrels took my attack as a green light to unleash on him once more. They skittered up his body, scratching at what was unmarked on his face and swiping at his eyeballs. He howled, batting at them as he stumbled about like a drunken, well, sailor. I wanted to stay and fight with my animals who were coming to my aid, but Wilbur gave me the ominous head tilt that told me it would be tails-up in a ho
t minute. I hoisted Judah up, turned and ran with him toward the street, seeing two guys charging for us to come to our aid.

  Well, whataya know. There still are decent people who come when they hear a cry for help.

  “Bastien, go after him!” The guy running towards me wore a plain brown polo, nice jeans and looked to be an African-American dude in his early thirties. “It’s alright! We’ve got you!” he called to me, meeting me in a hug I didn’t have the wherewithal to question. He was half a foot taller than me and built like he was made for answering cries of distress. His friend, Bastien, I’m guessing, who charged the old dude, was built like a tank wrapped in red flannel, and whipped past me in a blur. I remained in the stranger with the brown shirt’s arms while Judah keeled over and held his stomach, moaning. It was the longest hug I’d had from a guy who wasn’t Judah since I’d happened past a Green Peace meeting on campus that dismissed as I was walking by. Those pacifists were quite the affectionate type. “I’m Reyn, and you don’t have to worry about Armand anymore. Bastien will handle him.”

  I ducked out of the hug sheepishly, hating that I looked like a teen who threw up drama over nothing. “I don’t know what he wants! He just came up to me and told me I needed to go with him. He…” I felt embarrassed to be tattling on an attack from a senior citizen. “He’s stronger than he looks. He grabbed me and I couldn’t get away. He punched Judah!”

  Reyn patted Judah on the back and led us toward the street, his arm around my shoulders to keep me tucked into his side. “I know he’s strong. I’m surprised you managed to get away at all. Don’t worry. Bastien will take care of him.”

  “You know that guy? Armand is his name?”

  Reyn nodded, his black hair frozen in its short and naturally spindly style that stood no more than an inch off his scalp, and was buzzed short around the sides. “Unfortunately. I should’ve guessed he’d be tailing us instead of doing his own search for you. It’s lazy, is what that is.”

  I balked at Reyn, the shock still rolling through me. “He’s after you? Then what the flip was he doing harassing me?” I heard grunts of a fight near my favorite tree and turned to look, but Reyn corralled me toward the street, squaring my shoulders to face ahead so I didn’t see who was winning. His other arm patted Judah’s back in a “hang in there, champ” kind of way.

  Judah groaned, rubbing his stomach. “I’ve never been punched before. This is probably some sort of rite of passage or something, but all I feel is pain.”

  Reyn led us faster away from the brawl that was growing louder and more violent, if the grunts and howls were any indication. “We have to get you out of here. If Armand tracked us down, there’s no telling who else might be on their way here.”

  I shook my head at myself. “This isn’t right. I can’t let your friend take him on by himself.”

  Reyn managed a weak smile that didn’t touch his green eyes. Against his dark skin, the green shown brightly, making him look that much more expressive. “Bastien can handle himself just fine.”

  I ducked out of Reyn’s half-embrace and ran toward the mayhem. It wasn’t in me to leave someone to fight my battles. I wouldn’t have a stranger get hurt because he was being a Good Samaritan.

  My animals were yelling at me to run, but they knew as well as I did how stubborn I could be when I was keyed up. I grabbed a fallen two-foot long thick branch off the grass and gripped the hilt like a pro baseball star. After eight years of softball, I had my fair share of experience.

  Bastien was huge – an action hero if I ever saw one. He dwarfed my five feet six inches by almost a foot. He wore a red flannel shirt with his jeans, the sleeves rolled halfway up his arms to reveal a wrist tattoo of a hammer and a lion. He also bore a matching neck tattoo that had some scripty kind of lettering across the left side.

  Armand was no match for him, but the strange thing was that Armand didn’t raise a hand to Bastien. He simply stood there with his arms raised, unsure if he should strike.

  My heart seemed to slow and my veins felt frozen when I saw Bastien pull something that looked like an eight-inch thick stick from his back pocket. He clicked a switch on the side and popped out a jagged blade that looked more pirate than hunter. He didn’t hesitate at my scream, but plunged the steel into Armand’s stomach. The steel tore upward, like Bastien was puncturing a pillow in hopes of spilling the feathers all over.

  Only it wasn’t feathers that trickled out. Thick red ribbons trilled down Armand’s torn shirt and pants, painting him in gore. I wanted to look away from the macabre scene, but my whole body seemed to be frozen to the spot.

  My scream was on repeat; I was in such a state of shock that I didn’t even hear myself at my top volume. I kept going back to my favorite movie, The Princess Bride, hoping my sweet Wesley would never have been so brutal. Reyn trotted over to help, and lowered Armand down, laying him facing the sparse clouds above. Then he covered Armand’s face with his cloak almost reverently.

  Bastien turned to me, blade at his side like an angel of vengeance, wrapped in flannel. My animals scattered to watch the scene unfold from their various perches, but when Bastien closed the distance between us and cupped his hand over my mouth to stop my scream short, the birds started up their angry rants. They chirped with the foulest language at the scandal of a stranger putting his hands on me. Bastien smelled like masculine sweat, cinnamon and Christmas trees, his caramel eyes boring into my blue ones to make sure I could focus enough to hear him. “Shh. We have to get you out of here. If Armand found you, there’s no telling who else might be coming.” Bastien had rounded cheekbones and a wide, stern jawline that was peppered with what looked to be three days of forgetting to shave.

  Penelope threw a nut at Bastien, chittering at him to keep his hands off me. Girlfriend always had my back.

  “You need more proof? It’s her,” Reyn said, moving away from the old, dead Popeye, who would never again eat another can of spinach.

  4

  Rolling and Booking

  “I don’t know that guy,” I admitted, goosebumps erupting on my skin too swiftly for me to suppress a shudder. “He just grabbed me out of nowhere.” I stopped before emotion became apparent in my voice. I’d never seen someone murdered right in front of my eyes before. It was scarier than it looked when I’d seen the occasional stabbing on TV shows or in movies. This was sadder, and infinitely more finite. “Are… Are you okay? Bastien, is it?”

  Bastien nodded. “You alright? Armand didn’t hurt you before we found you, did he?”

  I shook my head, horrified at how the evening had unfolded. I touched Bastien’s arm, but retracted when he flinched. His eyes widened and he moved a foot to the left while we walked, as if my mere touch unnerved him. “I’m sorry. I just… Are you hurt? How can I help? He was so strong. Did he get in any punches?”

  The corner of Bastien’s mouth twitched upward, clearly not used to being fawned over. “Not a single swing.”

  “Seriously, thank you for intervening. You were incredible.”

  Bastien met my gaze of gratitude and bobbed his head once, tilting his chin downward, as if uncomfortable accepting praise. “Don’t mention it. You looked like you were handling him alright before I got involved. All you were missing was a decent weapon.”

  I straightened with pride that he’d assessed my prowess as more than capable. “Well, lucky me that you showed up with your butter knife.”

  Bastien chuckled, and then stopped the sound abruptly, his eyebrows furrowed. It was as if he wasn’t comfortable laughing, but somehow I’d coerced it out of him. He frowned to remind himself of his personality, and introduce me to how his face no doubt normally looked. He cleared his throat. “Good that you’re safe.”

  “Here, let us give you a lift,” Reyn offered, his large hand flat on the back of my shoulders.

  Under any other circumstances, I would never have accepted a ride from two strangers, but all I could think about was getting some distance from the dead body. I nodded, and Reyn walk
ed beside me, leading me toward a blue Prius. There was a fifty-something man with salt and pepper hair behind the wheel who didn’t turn his head to greet us. I wondered if he’d been too scared to get out of the car and help. I didn’t much blame him.

  Judah was too shaken up to ask questions. He followed us, a hollow look on his pale face.

  When I slid into the backseat between Reyn and Judah, and Bastien took the passenger seat, Reyn gave the driver a pat on the shoulder. “Alright, then. Head east.”

  “I work just a mile up the road at the pet shop. If you could drop us there, that’d be great.”

  “Sure,” Reyn replied, leaning back in his seat after the driver locked the doors and started off. Reyn turned to look across me to Judah, who was still coming down from the excitement. “You alright, brother? You took that punch like a warrior. Didn’t even throw up.”

  Judah quirked his eye at Reyn in question to the congenial address. “Thanks, man. I hope that’s the last time it happens. Did that guy really… Did he really just die? Did you really kill him?”

  Bastien nodded from the passenger seat. “He was gunning for your girlfriend, so he had to go.”

  I rubbed my arms, trying to smooth out the goosebumps. “This is my friend, Judah.” I twined my fingers through Judah’s, and he squeezed back harder than usual. He wasn’t used to physical fights, and no doubt this one had shaken him up.

  “You killed it out there, Ro. If I was your old softball coach, I’d give you a gold star, for shizzle.” Judah adjusted his thick black frames on the bridge of his nose, leaning against the door to give me a little more space.

  Reyn watched our exchange with his arm draped across the headrest behind me. “So you’re the Daughter of Avalon. In the very flesh. Elaine of Avalon hid you well.”