Page 4 of Pieces of Halves

“Izzy?” he asks, his brows raised.

I roll my eyes and giggle lightly. He is dangerously disarming, but my life has been hell, so I let myself have this. I deserve to let go of the pain. I turn around and walk backward for a second to ask him, “What is yours?”

“Jacob,” he answers quickly and looks behind me. “Watch where you are going,” he warns, but I don’t listen.

Instead, I squint and scan his body to think of a nickname for him. That was a grave mistake. My eyes are caught on his form – slim torso, strong chest hiding under that tan shirt, wide and fit shoulders.

Mother of Jesus. My skin goes hot.

My first reaction should be that he can easily slam me into the wall and do anything he wants against my will– those have been my thoughts of any man for the last year – but not with him. He appears to have something bright about him – like a light coming from within him.

“Watch where you’re going.” He quickly reaches over and places his hand behind my head.

I bump against a wall, but my head is protected by the soft padding of his palm. Jerking my head forward, I take a step towards him, and we stand only inches apart.

“Told you to watch where you are going.” He looks above me. Lifting the lantern, he picks off what I assume is dust out of my hair. “Oh, look. A spider,” he says, his tone a little too excited for my liking.

A spider!Tiny little critters that can scurry away quickly, hiding on any part of my body.

“Get it off!” I squeal, grab onto his shirt with a death grip, and press myself into him.

With my eyes shut tight and my heart erratically beating, I have my face plastered against his neck as I wait for him to swat it away.

“He’s harmless.” He chuckles and pulls his head back a bit. “Look.” He brings his hand over to show me the critter.

“Oh,” I mumble and look at the small creature. Its long legs move along Jacob’s arm, and its light-brown color isbarely visible in the dim space. “Pholcus phalangioides,” I whisper and observe it as it scurries away.

I overreacted. Now I feel silly about it. I am not afraid of bugs, it’s the idea that they can crawl somewhere on me and I won’t be able to know where they went. A spider wouldn’t want to make his home on my body, I realize that, but there is still that irrational part that fears the little guys.

It is a cellar spider; they like to live in moist and dark places. Their jaws are generally not strong enough to penetrate human skin, making them harmless. I know because it is a hobby I started a year ago. It was a method of coping – I studied insects, bugs, and flowers until I started to forget my nineteenth birthday. I think it helped because I don’t remember much of it anymore. I remember not wanting something to happen, but it did. Or did it? I’m not sure anymore. No, it did; the pain still lingers.

“Um…” Jacob starts, unsure what to say.

“You are right. Harmless.” I peel away and smile up at him.

“You okay?” he asks and proceeds to dust off whatever was on my head. “You got his web all over you.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

It’s strange how caring the man is. Maybe it’s just me overthinking it, but he is incredibly kind. I had Vera, my nanny, growing up, and she was incredible, but no one ever looked after me the way he does. It has only been an hour or so, and he saved me from my father’s goons, rubbed my back when I panicked – a satisfying action, might I add – stopped me from hitting my head, and picked the tiny little webs out of my hair.

I will not complain.

Soft evening light assaults my eyes when we get to the surface again. The alley is tucked away, so no one sees us come up, but I don’t think my father’s men will be looking for me here. Not for another day or two at least.

This part of the city is nice. The buildings are cleaner and taller – most are at least three stories tall. Some are painted a fresh white, and some remain the color of original red brick. The streets are tidy with small, neat shops scattered under the towering buildings.

I exhale, glad I am free for at least a little bit longer. Finding a place to sleep here will be a little more challenging, though. In the nicer parts, the sheriffs patrol for the homeless better, and there is no way in hell I can afford a hotel here. I can’t afford a hotel, period. I actually have no money at all.

Walking past the shops, a bakery gets my attention, and I stare at the little pastries. My stomach growls painfully, and my mouth waters. There is a chance I could kill to get my handson one of those. Particularly that small one with the perfectly smooth, white cream piped on it.

My legs keep moving, but my head turns, my eyes unwilling to let go of the beautiful little thing that would feel so incredible in my mouth.

“You have to start looking where you are going,” Jacob whispers into my ear, his body suddenly next to mine.

Before I crash into him, his arm goes around my waist, and he holds me steady, guiding me into the café. Foolishly, I walk in.

I don’t have any money.I want to remind him, but my pride has been wounded enough, so I stay silent. He will buy his treats, and we will leave. The smell of sugar and berries assaults me, and I almost moan from the sweet aromas. Swallowing, I push away the tears of disappointment.

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