My Protector

Chapter 2

Kayla's POV:

I was almost too scared to turn around when I heard his voice. He didn't sound threatening but that doesn't mean he won't be. I can't help but breathe a little quicker and feel my nerves increase. I was already winded from my run and I was tired. So tired my muscles were still burning from the workout and my heart is screaming at me to grieve over the loss of my father even though right now I know I can't.

"Turn around." He said to me in a more stern lowered voice, giving me the impression that he will get angry if I don't do as he says.

I slowly turned and lifted my head as I turned around. He was only a couple of feet from me and my eyes stopped the moment they locked with his blue orbs. They were so gorgeous. He looked like he just showered because his hair was still wet and I could smell a hint of his body wash. His hair was cut super short on the sides but longer on the top and swept back. He had what looked like a 5 o'clock shadow on his jaw and around his lips but it looked like he kept it trimmed like that on purpose. His nose was a little crooked as if he's been hit a time or two. He was a little taller than I was but I wasn't sure about his height. He was about the height of my dad and he was six foot even in height. I haven't been measured since before all this happened so I have no idea, just that he is a little taller than I was.

He was wearing just a basic t-shirt and jeans. He didn't look super muscular but I could see it in his arms, which looked like a few burn marks on them, that were exposed that he had strength. He was quite handsome. Much more so than that Jonah. Oh s**t! Jonah! I have got to get out of here!

I looked away from him and found the door and started to quickly walk towards it so I could get out of there. Before I could grab the door a hand went around my arm and pulled me around hard enough that I stumbled and fell into his chest.

"Now you don't just break into someone's place of residence and then not give them the courtesy of answering their questions." He said to me in such a sexy voice that seemed to have a hint of humor in it.

I looked up a little at him and could see the smirk on his lips. Damn those lips looked so soft. I've never kissed a man before and up until now I never really wanted to. Being on the run like we were for four years makes it hard to want to find someone. Besides, what clean handsome man with a home and job would want a dirty smelly homeless girl? Regardless, being in his arms right now like I am, so close to him that the thought of kissing him was all I am thinking right now even if I did just fall into his arms.

"I'm sorry," I said almost in a whisper and pulled away from him.

"I have got to go." I continued and went to take my steps away from him only to discover he still had my arm.

"No, you're not. I can clearly see that you are hurt and you are going to get cleaned up." He said to me and started to pull me with him towards the kitchen.

"Sir you don't understand! I have got to go! I can't stay here!" I tried to reason with him but was also a little frightened of what he may have plans for doing with me.

He walked me into the kitchen and turned the light on. He sat me down on the bar stool that was at the island and walked over to a cabinet. He must not think I will leave because he just let go of my arm and walked away. I guess I would have to agree with him because I am just sitting here waiting for him to come back. Maybe a part of me really didn't want to leave him and this was just an excuse to stay here longer. He grabbed a bottle out of the cabinet, and a roll of paper towels, and walked back over in front of me.

"You don't have to explain anything. I don't need to know why you are in my apartment covered in blood. I don't need to know how your arms and legs got torn up or why it looks like you have been living on the streets for quite some time. Just let me help you and then you can continue on your way." He said to me with a smile.

I hated how a complete stranger could look at me and see that I was homeless. Especially such a sexy man like him. The first man to look at me other than Jonah and he happens to know that I'm poor and live on the streets. It makes it even worse knowing that he appears to be a very caring sweet man but because of who I am, why I am running, and on the streets, I could never be with him. He opened the alcohol bottle and poured it onto the paper towel.

"This is going to hurt." He told me and grabbed my arm and dabbed it all over the cuts and scraps I got from those stones.

I hissed from the sting and looked away from him. He continued to disinfect my arm and then moved on to my other. I couldn't talk to him, I was too embarrassed by my situation to talk to him. I have no experience with talking to a man and it really shows. I have no idea what to say or how to act. I wasn't really interested in them when I was 15 because I was more interested in my career. Well, now that my career pretty much went down the toilet and I am older I do notice the opposite s*x more than I ever did before. I am definitely noticing the opposite s*x at this moment and I like what I am seeing.

With him this close I could really smell his scent and his cologne mixed with his body wash or masculine scent and it was really doing something to my body. That along with this caring side of him that I was seeing right now was really making him sexy. I'm a complete stranger who showed up in his apartment and instead of getting mad or thinking that I was going to rob him, instead, is trying to help me. Who does that any more? Apparently, this guy right here.

"Now in order for you to clean the rest of the cuts you are going to need to take a shower and then let me look at this one when you are done." He said as he lifted part of my jeans on my left thigh that was ripped real good and I could see my blood-soaked leg underneath.

That sight made me really scared to know what actually happened.

"You mean, take a shower in your shower?" I asked nervously and he lifted his head at me and let go of the torn fabric.

'Well, I wasn't referring to you showering at the shelter. Those places never have soap and besides, I have one right over there that works just fine. I should know, I just used it." He said smirking at me again.

That's when I saw it, this small dimple appeared on his right cheek. That was over-the-moon hot! I looked away quickly when I felt my face start to heat up. I was so embarrassed! How can I think like that in front of him and let him see me blush!

"Come. I will get you a towel and find you a t-shirt and I'm sure I have a pair of shorts you can wear for a little while." He told me and helped me off of the bar stool.

We walked through the living room and almost to the short hallway that was near the apartment door when I stopped and he turned to look at me in question.

"Why are you helping me?" I asked him.

"It's not every day an amazingly beautiful woman shows up unannounced in my apartment." He said to me as he put a piece of my blonde hair behind my ear and smiled.

That small gesture caused my stomach to turn into knots and made me feel so nervous all of a sudden. He moved his head in a come here motion and we walked into the hallway and the bathroom.

"I know I don't have any fruity-smelling soaps you women like to use but I'm sure for now what I have will be okay. Let me grab you some clothes quickly before you get into the shower." He said before walking out of the bathroom and leaving me there.

Is he really this sweet and caring or is he just trying to trick me so he can get what he wants from me? What if he tries to get into the shower with me after I am in! My eyes widened at my thought and I looked around to see if there was a window that I could climb out of and onto the fire escape. There was one at the end of the bathroom but when I looked out it, it was actually beside the fire escape and I wouldn't be able to get over to it.

I turned around quickly when I heard the door open and he walked in with a black t-shirt and a pair of basic shorts that he probably wore to bed.

"You can trust me. I'm not going to do anything." He said looking at me standing on the toilet and looking out the window.

"I will be in the living room when you get done if you just want to come out there and we will check your leg and make sure you don't need stitches." He told me and then walked out of the bathroom.

I quickly got off of the toilet and ran to the door and locked it. I had to make sure he couldn't get back in once I was in the shower.

It was just a basic tub shower combo. I reached over and turned the water on and adjusted the temperature. I walked over to the mirror to get undressed while the water heated up. I looked at myself quickly and the first thing I could see that I never realized before was how sunken my face was from my lack of eating and my waist-length blonde hair was dull looking. Even though I took a shower last night, or should I say rinsed off, I still looked dirty. No wonder he knew I was homeless. I could see my arms in the mirror and they were covered in cuts and scratches from when I fell. They were also already starting to bruise up.

I undressed my shirt and threw it to the floor and then undid my jeans. The same jeans I have been wearing now for a few months. They already had tears in them but now that side of my leg is ripped open and that pant leg is stained with blood. My other pant leg was torn but not as bad. You can tell which side of my body hit the stones the hardest. I carefully pulled down my jeans, wincing in pain as they went over my wound.

I pulled my legs out of the jeans and could see that the blood ran all the way down my leg. Damn, that has got to be a nasty cut under all that blood. This is going to hurt like hell! I pulled off my holey socks and set them off to the side. That was all the clothing I had. Didn't even have a bra to wear. When you are pulling clothes from trash cans you take what you can find. Most of the time you can't use what you find and bras were the very few items you ever found, let alone ones that fit.

I wouldn't know what my size was anymore, it's been too long since I had a bra. I took a deep breath, knowing that it was time to get in that shower and reveal what happened to my leg. I stepped in at the far end of the tub and slowly stepped forward till the water hit my feet. The water quickly darkened from the dirt and dust from the rooftop.

I kept inching closer and then turned my body so the water wouldn't hit my thigh. I cupped the water in my hands and let it run down my leg. I had to do it several times before the blood started to wash away. It burned a little doing it this way but figured it would be better than letting the shower head hit it.

There was a good-sized gash in my leg that looked pretty deep and I had to pick out a couple of small tiny stones that must have gotten stuck. The size of the bruise that was already forming around the wound was going to be nasty looking. The gash started to bleed again so I quickly washed what I could and washed my hair. It has been so long since I got to use shampoo and conditioner I had forgotten how good it felt on my head.

Once I was done I got out of the shower and dried myself off. My leg was still bleeding so I grabbed a hand towel and held it to my leg while I slipped his shirt on and the shorts. Tied the shorts quickly to hold them up since they were quite big on me, walked out of the bathroom, and into the living room holding the towel to my leg.

He jumped up off the couch and came over to me.

'Let me look at it." He said and pulled my hand away that was holding the towel.

He didn't pull or anything on my skin and he was so gentle. He did what he could not to cause me any more pain than what I was already feeling. Little did he know that most of my pain was in my heart and not my leg.

"You need to get this stitched. Here let me get it closed for you temporarily but it really needs to be looked at by a doctor.." He said and pulled me over to the kitchen.

"What do you mean? You are going to stitch it yourself?" I asked as my voice raised in pitch.

"Yes. I've done it so many times in the past. You will be fine." He said trying to reassure me.

What does he mean he has done this so many times? I looked around at his apartment and at all the electronics and computers. Why would a hobby in electronics cause you to stitch wounds often? Is he some kind of doctor? I mean the appliances and furniture and other things around the apartment suggest money but he doesn't look like he could be a doctor. Something about him suggests more of a rugged type of career.

He grabbed out the thread, needle, and alcohol and knelt down by my leg.

"This is going to hurt so maybe look away from me." He told me.

Before he started, he suddenly stood up and walked more into the kitchen.

"Here, bite on this." He quickly said and handed me a hand towel that was over his oven handle.

He was scaring me but I did as he said and I put some of the towel in my mouth and looked away. I tried to keep my mind off of what he was doing but it was really hard. He poured the alcohol over the wound and I couldn't help but cry in pain. My cries were muffled by the towel but it didn't help with the pain.

The tears were starting to well up in my eyes and the moment he pinched my thigh and shoved the needle through I screamed. I threw my hands to my mouth to hold the towel in to keep my cries muffled but it hurt so much! The tears washed down the side of my face and I couldn't stop crying. The pain was awful! I felt the alcohol run over my leg again and it still stung like crazy.

He patted my leg with a towel and he jumped up from next to my thigh and grabbed me and pulled me into him.

"I'm so sorry. Shhh." He whispered in my ear and rubbed my back with his hand.

I let loose on him the moment I was in his arms. Suddenly I was no longer crying in pain from my thigh but instead, I was letting out all my tears and pain from the loss of my father. I couldn't help but put my arms around him and hold him tight while I cried into his shoulder and soaked his shirt. He just held me and rubbed my back while I finally got to let it all out and grieve for my father.