A Flash of Light

Chapter 3

The same scenario repeated over the next three weeks. He'd always call on Wednesdays around 2pm, I guess it was easy that it was the same time every week. Thursdays he'd send a message telling me the dress code, always "Formalish". Why did he even bother?

Rayden was always the same, making idiotic jokes, taking everything I said literally, on purpose. Being a real jackass. But he always picked me up from the apartment, paid for my dinner, and escorted me back.

He did the lie detector thing, but I got used to it, and it was just a quick thing at the end. He seemed to tone down on playing a scary brute when he did it.

We were walking back to the car after our fourth evening together. Rayden had taken me to all the nice expensive restaurants in the city. He always used the black car and the driver so he could keep an eye on me at the backseat.

Tonight Rayden had taken me to the Old Town. It was a district dominated by buildings dating all the way back to the 18th century and cobbled stones. While quaint, they were my mortal enemy when wearing high heels. In no great surprise, I stuck my heel into a crack and rolled my ankle.

"Shit, you ok?" Rayden was on me at once.

On top of being morbidly ashamed, I was in pain.

"Yes," I lied and tried to get up.

Rayden snorted, "You're fine? Please, spare me. I'm going to pick you up and carry you." And despite my protests, he did. The heel on my shoe was broken off too. My humiliation was complete.

Rayden insisted I keep my leg elevated in the car on the way home, which meant it was up on his lap. So I sat there, looking like a storm rolling in. I did try to tell him I'd be fine, but there was no use fighting him.

To top the evening off, he carried me upstairs to my apartment.

"Hot Hero Guy strikes again," he said as he put me down on the couch. He propped my ankle up with a pillow. "Aww, you look so cute. Like someone stole your lollipop."
"Ha-ha-ha," I said very dryly, very deliberately.

"Do you have ice? We should ice that up." He pursed his lips and looked at the sore ligament.

"Yeah I think there's an ice pack in the freezer," I said, slightly taken aback by his fussing.

He wrapped the ice pack in a tea towel and placed it on the ankle. "Do you want me to make you something? Tea?"

"Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?"

"Should I be mean? Prick the ankle to make it worse?" He placed his hand on his chin in contemplation.

I rolled my eyes. "You're an idiot," the words were out sooner than I realized. Then I panicked. Did I really just call this guy, this thug, an idiot?

"How insulting," he said with feigned hurt, "Well, do you want tea?"

What? He still wanted to make me tea?

"Sure. Might as well make yourself some too," I said, not wanting to be rude.

"I knew we'd be friends," he said overeagerly. "First you're offering me tea in your apartment, next thing we'll be watching the new fantasy on FlixIt."

"I'm quickly changing my mind about that tea," I let out flatly.

"Too late anyway," he said and turned the kettle on. He added, "Have you watched that show yet?"
"I've been meaning to start it, but to be honest I have too many books to read right now."

"Well, you know how you're a cripple and all. Maybe I should stay and help you. Meanwhile, we could watch the show? It's based on those books you liked."