Page 2 of Broken Soul

What is this flicker of pain in my chest?The longer I look at her, the more consistent and relentless the pain becomes. When the woman doesn’t make a move for several moments, I lift my hand to the driver’s side window and knock.

She jerks her head up and lets out a startled yelp, her blue eyes widening in fear. Jesus, I never want this woman to fear me. She’s far too precious for the look of terror taking over her features.

Precious?I don’t think I’ve ever used that word before but it fits.

I hold my hands up, palms out, in surrender, and back up a bit to give her some space. She slowly opens the car door and steps out of the vehicle, giving me my first real look at her.

My head spins and my breath catches in my throat.Stunning. Gorgeous. Mine.

She has wavy blonde hair that hangs over one shoulder, light blue eyes that carry far more pain than anyone her age should know, and her curves… I allow myself one glance up and down her features, trying not to focus on her wide hips and thick thighs.

The woman blinks up at me, her ice-blue eyes piercing me with one look. I somehow feel her anxiety, her fear, her helplessness. She’s trembling but I can tell she’s trying to stand tall and not let a man of my size intimidate her.

"Having a bit of car trouble?" I ask, breaking the silence in hopes of putting her at ease.

She snorts out an adorable laugh which has me feeling some kind of way I don’t want to think about at the moment. “What gave it away? The clanking engine or the cloud of smoke?”

I grin at her response, thankful that she seems comfortable enough with me to joke. “I’d say neither one is a good sign.”

The woman nods and nibbles her bottom lip before blowing out a breath. “That makes sense. This whole thing has been one bad sign after another,” she mutters to herself.

“Why don’t I pop the hood and see what we’re working with?” I suggest. She nods and reaches into the car to unlock the hood. I open up the damn thing and wince at what I see. My earlier diagnosis of an engine drowning in motor oil wasn’t too far off.

“That bad, huh?” she asks as she walks up next to me. We stand there together, staring at the catastrophe. “I don’t know anything about cars, but I think the black oozing liquid is supposed to be more contained, right?”

I chuckle softly and nod. "Correct. We're looking at replacing quite a few parts, possibly the entire engine. I won't know for sure until I can dig in and find the source of the issue. Eitherway, you also need a new muffler, and from the sound of your brakes when you pulled up, I wouldn't be surprised if those needed replacing as well."

The woman hasn’t said a word and I look over at her, everything in me softening at what I see. She’s holding back tears and trying to take deep breaths, but I sense this is the final straw for her. Whatever her plans were when she hit the road have been thwarted and now she’s staring at thousands of dollars of work before she can continue.

“Where are you headed? If you’re on a time crunch, I bet we can find a bus or a train to get you to where you need to be. I’ll work on the car and you can come back and pick it up on your way home,” I offer.Did I really just say I’d fix this heaping pile of shit?

“Uh… no, that won’t be necessary. I don’t have… I mean, I don’t really know…” She trails off and shrugs before looking down at the ground.

“Where’s home?” I ask, thinking I can give her a ride if it’s not too far.

The woman visibly shudders and squeezes her eyes shut, shaking her head no. “That’s not an option,” she whispers.

Normally, I’m more than happy for people to keep their lives and thoughts to themselves. But this woman? I want to know all of her secrets. Why doesn’t she want to go back home? Why did she leave? Where is she going? Does she even have a plan? Money? The more I think about this young woman traveling on her own in her unsafe vehicle, the more agitated I get. Anything could have happened to her.

She’s here now.

I take a cleansing breath, letting that truth settle in my soul. She’s here now. I can take care of her, whatever that means. I’ve never felt this way and I’m not sure what to do about it. All Iknow is that I can’t let this woman go. Not without knowing she has a plan and she’s safe.

“Look, I, uh, I appreciate you looking at my car,” she starts. “Truthfully, I don’t have the money to fix it. Do you know of any place I could sell or scrap it? It’s an older car and the parts are metal instead of plastic or aluminum. That has to be worth something, right? I can take that money and…” She nibbles on her bottom lip again, unsure of how to finish her thought.

How did she end up here? It sounds like she just got in a car and drove and drove and drove until it broke down on her. But why?

The woman sways a bit on her feet, steadying herself with a hand on the car. I look up at her, noticing for the first time how pale she is. A thin sheen of sweat beads her forehead as she continues to prop herself up against the vehicle.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she answers unconvincingly. “Just must have forgotten to eat something today.” I frown and she looks away from me as if ashamed. “Okay, so maybe it’s been two days. I don’t know.”

I move closer, resting a hand on her hip to keep her steady. “When was the last time you had any water?” I ask in a soft tone.

"Uh…" The look she gives me says it all. Of course, she's not feeling well if she hasn't eaten or had any water in two days. She's going to pass out–

No sooner do I think the words than the woman’s legs give out and she collapses into my arms. I immediately scoop her up, ignoring how good she feels right here in my embrace.

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