Bookworms and Runways

Chapter 2: The One Time Sean Forgets his Phone

Hindsight truly was twenty-twenty, Sean thought.

If he'd known this was how his afternoon would go, he wouldn't have skipped out on work. Or, he would have changed first. Or taken a different street.

Or, hey, actually brought his phone or wallet. At least then he could give his mugger what he wanted and maybe save his life in the process.

Instead, it looked like Sean was going to die a humiliating death on this tiny side street.

“You can search my pockets, I swear," Sean said. His hands shook by his head.

“Don't give me that crap!" the mugger said. They shoved the gun under Sean's chin. “A guy like you probably walks around with hundreds in cash and calls it chump change."

“I'd give you everything if I had anything, I swear! My pockets are empty!" The barrel of the gun was cold under his chin, but quickly warming up.

The mugger fisted a hand in his collar. “I don't believe you!"

What was he going to do now? Was he really going to die like this?

“Fluffy, come back here!" another voice yelled.

It made both Sean and his attacker freeze and turn towards the main street. A young man jogged towards them, completely oblivious to the situation. His hair was brown, and he wore red hi-tops and dark jeans.

“Hey, have either of you seen my cat?"

Did this guy not see the gun in this situation? Great, Sean's terrible decisions were going to get some innocent bystander killed, too. Terrific.

“Hang on, I think I see him!" the man's gaze locked on something behind the mugger, on the opposite wall.

“What the hell is wrong with you?" the mugger asked, lowering the gun an inch or so.

“Just gonna grab…" the man started, eyes still locked on the wall.

It caught both of them off guard when he tackled the mugger, grabbing the hand holding the gun and slamming it on the ground. The gun clattered on the pavement, spinning out of reach.

“Call 911!" the man said.

Sean blinked, mouth falling open. This man…saved him? Had there been a cat at all?

“Snap out of it, I can't hold him forever!" the man said. Contrary to his words, it very much looked like he could, indeed, hold the mugger forever. He sat on the mugger's chest and pressed a forearm to the mugger's windpipe, cutting off his air anytime he struggled too much.

Thick muscles bulged in his forearms, the sleeves of his button-up rolled up to his elbows.

“Hello? You okay up there?" the man asked.

“I…I don't have a phone on me," Sean finally managed.

“You don't…ah, geez, hang on," the man said. He wriggled on top of the mugger, pinning an arm under his knee so he could free a hand to reach into his back pocket. He tossed up a phone.

Sean fumbled to catch it. It had a thick case, but he didn't want to ruin his savior's property if he didn't have to.

“There's no passcode."

“R...right." He called emergency services, reporting the mugging and the location. The operator promised to have a team out there in minutes, promising to stay on the line until they got there.

The mugger renewed his thrashing. “Come on, man, get off! I can't go to prison! They'll eat me alive in there!" He almost managed to throw off the angel who'd saved Sean, but the angel almost crushed his windpipe in response.

“Geez, he's feisty. Could you pin his legs for me?"

“Um. Yes." Sean managed to grab both legs and sat on them, making the mugger swear and lash out again, to little effect.

“If you don't want to go to jail then you should have thought about that before attacking someone!" the man said. “Seriously, I am so late for work now."

“You…" Sean only stared at the man's back in awe.

“Hmm? What's up?" He looked over his shoulder at Sean, revealing deep emerald green eyes and freckles.

Sean stared, forgetting all about whatever he was going to say.

“Oh, you're not hurt, are you? I didn't notice anything, but I didn't really have the best look before…"

“No, no I'm not hurt. You got here before…" Before a man shot him point blank for not carrying money on him, he thought to himself. Before Sean died in an alleyway because he'd ditched work like an i***t.

“Good, I'm glad." The man beamed at him. The smile was easy and sincere, blinding in its cheerfulness.

Sirens grew louder, but Sean couldn't hear them over the pounding in his heart.

“There…wasn't a cat, was there?" Sean asked.

“Oh, no, there wasn't. I made that up to try and throw him off guard. It worked!"

“But why…" This man owed Sean nothing. By his own admission, he was going to be late for work. And he could have been seriously hurt by getting mixed up in this.

The man faced forward again. “I saw him grab you. No one else did, and I couldn't just keep walking and do nothing."

“Oh, you'll save him, but you'll sign my death warrant?" the mugger asked.

The man pressed on his windpipe again. “You made your own choices, now live with the consequences."

Before Sean could find the proper words to thank him, flashing lights lit up the side street. A cop car pulled right up to them, two officers jumping out from each side and surrounding them. In no time they had the mugger handcuffed and in the back of the cruiser. The gun was picked up in an evidence bag. Sean and his savior were both questioned, giving their full statements.

It wasn't like there was much to say, and with one cop questioning Sean and the other questioning his savior, it didn't take long at all.

“Alright, I think that's everything for now. We'll get this guy taken care of," one officer said.

“Thanks. I've got to get to work, I'm glad you're okay, sir!" His savior waved at him before darting back towards the main street, disappearing without a backwards glance.

“Wait, I…" Sean needed to properly thank him, still. He at least owed the man dinner, or something, for saving his life. Maybe backstage passes for his next fashion show?

He missed his chance. The man was gone, vanished as fast as he'd come. Sean indulged in the crushing disappointment, letting his feelings sour his expression.

He wished he'd gotten the man's name, if nothing else.

“This may be presumptuous of me," one of the officers started, scratching his cheek with a finger, “but you're Sean Winters, right? The model?"

Sighing, Sean nodded. “Would you like an autograph?"

The man's face lit up. “Do you mind? My daughter absolutely adores you; it'd make her year to get your autograph."

Sean signed the back of an blank ticket for him, and one for the other officer as well, before he finally made his own way back to the street. The whole debacle had only taken half an hour, but it felt like days had passed. His adrenaline was crashing, and he felt like he could sleep for a week.

Maybe he'd dream about his green-eyed angel while he did.

He needed to get it together. The man was gone. Sean missed his chance.

The worst part about all of this, was that he was going to get the lecture of a lifetime for missing work. And he couldn't play the “I was almost mugged and killed" card for sympathy, because then his father would actually hire bodyguards and Sean would never know a moment's peace again. He barely knew peace now.

Frowning, he shoved his hands in his pocket and silently bemoaned his life. His right hand knocked against his phone, and he stopped walking.

Oh no.

He pulled the phone out.

Oh. No.

This wasn't his phone. He didn't have his phone, that was why he'd almost died.

No no no no no no no.

This was that man's phone. The one Sean used to call 911 while the man pinned the mugger. And then the one Sean idly shoved in his pocket when the police came, because the mugger was thrashing again and Sean needed his hands to pin his legs until the officers had him.

And then, apparently, the one Sean never took out of his pocket to give back.

Crap.