Black Diaries

04. Tough and Buff

My foot came down on the brakes like a ton of bricks!

Damn! I really had an unfortunate talent for literally running into people! First on foot with Sam, and now in my car with this lucky guy, who I'd probably squashed into a bloody pulp! What would it be next? Crash landing a helicopter?

"Oooh..."

The low moan that came from the street level somewhere in front of me jerked me back to the here and now.

Reversing without even looking behind me, I drove back onto the sidewalk and came to a screeching halt. In a flash, I was out of the door and dashing past the car, leaving the Toyota running. The man on the ground, however, definitely wasn't running anymore. He had wanted to, judging by his sweatpants and sleeveless running top. But a little kiss from my car had changed his mind, and now he was lying on his back, groaning and holding his head.

"Oh my God!"

I ran over to him and knelt down, my hands fluttering, trying to find some way to check if his head was cracked or his ears broken, or whatever happened to you when you were run over by a car.

"Oh my God," I repeated, my voice choked. "I could have killed you!"

"No, no," he moaned shaking his head, and trying to smile.

Now that really pricked my pride. I was a double-murderer, after all!

"Of course I could have!"

"No, really, you don't need to worry. I'm not hurt at—"

"Don't argue! You are hurt! You could be a bloody splat on the road, and all because of me!"

"Well, if you insist..." I couldn't see much—he was lying outside the circle of light from the nearest street lamp. But I could have sworn that his grin widened. "I am writhing in torment. Should I crawl out of the way now? I'm sure you still have plenty more people to run over tonight."

"Oh God, I'm sorry. I... I shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm just it's..." I slapped my hand in front of my mouth to prevent a sob from escaping. Suddenly, it all came crashing over me: Matt, Eve, the knife, and now this! Why did fate seem so determined to ruin everything good in my life? What would be next? Would Lucky bite off my little finger and choke on it?

Trembling, I sank to my knees beside the stranger, fighting against the tears that wanted to spill over.

"Um... are you all right?" he asked, cautiously.

I sniffed. "I just ran you over with my car, and you are asking me whether I am all right?"

"Err... yes."

"No, I'm not actually. I've had a shitty week. My whole life just got wrecked, and now I've wrecked you, and I don't know what to do."

He chuckled. "You didn't 'wreck' me. You just gave me a little nudge, that's all. And nothing is ever wrecked badly enough that it can't be patched up. All things broken are meant to be mended."

I wish I could believe that. I wish I could be as happy and easy-going as he obviously was. But my heart had been broken, and I knew that nothing and no one could ever stitch it back together again.

"Sure," I mumbled, nevertheless, wiping my nose. "Sure."

"Say, would you mind terribly if we got off the street?" he enquired, the corner of his mouth lifting. "This conversation is fascinating, but I wouldn't like to be run over twice in one night. Too much of a good thing, you know."

"Oh, yes, of course. Let me help you up."

Quickly, I wiped away the rest of the moisture in my eyes. Getting to my feet again, I grabbed his arm and pulled.