Page 7 of Benji

“Right. Before, you know, you hit me with your car.” His face was a horror show, and it made me laugh. “Sorry. Still too soon?”

“Yes. I think it will forever be too soon for that to be funny.”

“So, was it a nice car at least?” I smirked at him. “Because if I’m going to get hit by anything, can it at least be a nice car?”

He almost smiled. “Still too soon for jokes.”

Then something occurred to me. “Shit. Is your car damaged? I can’t pay for that?—”

He shook his head and again went to reach for me but stopped himself. “No damage. And the car isn’t important. I’m more worried about you. Is your back feeling any better?” Then his eyes lit up. “Oh, I have a heat pack. Let me go find it for you.”

He disappeared, muttering something about where he’d last seen it, and I found myself smiling. Despite everything that had happened last night, despite the twinge in my lower back. Nolan was a sweet guy.

He came back out carrying a wheat pillow. “Found it. I had a hamstring injury a few years back,” he said. He put it in the microwave just as something else chimed. “Oh,” he said, going to a monitor by the door. I hadn’t noticed it before. “Hello?” he asked.

A familiar voice replied. “I’m here for Benji.”

“Ah, Benji,” Nolan said, glancing my way. I realised then that I hadn’t given him a name.

“That’s Fitch,” I replied. “You can let him in.”

Nolan buzzed him through, and I considered sitting up again but my back said no. A few moments later, Nolan opened his door and Fitch stepped in.

“Hi,” Fitch said. Then he saw me and rushed in and sat on the sofa with me, his hand on my arm. “Jesus, Benji, are you okay? What the fuck happened?”

“I’m fine. I’ve just strained my back. It’ll be right in a few hours.”

Or a day or two.

He put a gentle hand on my hair. “And your head. You got hit by a car? What the fuck?”

“’Twas my fault,” I said quietly. “I saw—” I glanced at where Nolan was in the kitchen, not wanting to say too much. I lowered my voice anyway. “Those guys, and I hit my head on a dumpster, of all things. Then I took off through the park and ran into the path of a moving car.”

Nolan came back then with the heated wheat pack. “Here,” he said quietly. “Lean against the sofa with this pressed against your back. Where does it hurt?”

I tried to reach around to show him, realising too late that arm had the scraped elbow. “Down low.”

“Please, allow me,” Nolan murmured. He placed the wheat pack against my lumbar area and gently leaned me back so the sofa would keep the pack in place. The relief was almost immediate. Then he pulled up the blanket. “Can I get you anything else?”

I don’t know why, but his kindness touched me. I was sure I blushed. “I’m fine.”

Fitch looked between us, questioning, smiling, and far too obvious.

“I’ll give you guys some privacy,” Nolan said, fidgeting, unsure, before he turned and walked down a hall.

Fitch’s eyes met mine. “What the fuck was that?”

I chuckled. “He’s a nice guy. He feels bad.”

“Considering he hit you with his car, he probably should.” Then he double-checked that Nolan was gone. “Did you fuck? Because he’s hot.”

“No,” I said. “Considering, you know, he hit me with his car.” Then I sighed. “How the hell am I supposed to work tonight? I already missed making money last night.”

“Benji, that’s the least of your worries. You-know-who was looking for you last night. Those two guys must have seen you because they spent the rest of the night searching up and down Oxford for you. You can’t work the street. You shouldn’t even go back there, not for a few days at least.”

“The fuck am I supposed to do? Not even about working, Fitch. But I live there.”

“We’ll have to get you inside. I should have brought a hoodie with me. I’ll go back and get it. Then you’ll justhave to hole up for a few days. Give your back some time to right itself.”

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