Page 37 of Wicked William

I have ideas for the theater. I think that might have to wait though. My ideas are pretty involved and it might be better to get some of the other storefronts filled first.

My thoughts wander to Maisy, that wild, free-spirited beauty who’s stormed into my life like a hurricane. And as always, thoughts of Maisy immediately turn to thoughts of naked Maisy.

Maybe I’ll take her to the city soon. A nice evening out. Dinner. Dancing. Maybe I’ll take her someplace ritzy and make her come under the table between fancy courses.

“William, look out!” Maisy’s voice pierces my lustful reverie like a razor-sharp dagger.

With a surge of adrenaline-fueled power, her petite body slams into mine, pushing me down the sidewalk. Despite her small frame, the strength behind her shove is nothing short of astonishing. It’s as if some primal force has taken hold of her, granting her the might of a goddess.

“What the hell!” I exclaim, stumbling backward as we both hit the pavement. My heart pounds like a jackhammer inside my chest, threatening to burst through my ribcage. Time seems to slow to a crawl, each second stretching on for an eternity as I watch the scene unfold before me in horrific detail.

A car, its tires screeching, crashes into the herb shop she just vacated with a sickening crunch. An explosion of glass and debris fills the air, transforming the just-peaceful street into a warzone. The scent of crushed herbs mingles with the acrid odor of burning rubber, creating a nauseating cocktail that assaults my senses.

“Fuck,” I breathe out, taking stock of the utter pandemonium around me. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I search her for blood.

“William,” she says, her voice strained, her gaze locked onto the twisted wreck of the car embedded in her herb shop. “The driver.”

“Jesus,” I mutter, following her lead as she darts toward the wreckage. Her bohemian skirt billows behind her like a flag in the wind, her long red hair streaming out like a fiery comet’s tail.

My head spins, and I struggle to comprehend the scene before me as I trail Maisy toward the wreckage, my only coherent thought is to grab her and get her away from the danger she seems to be running toward.

The front of the herb shop looks like it’s been mauled by some vicious beast, a snarl of glass, brick, and twisted metal.

“Babyl,” I say, my heart pounding as I edge closer to the mangled vehicle, glass crunching beneath my boots. “I need you to stay back, I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Other town folk have gathered and sirens whine in the distance. I recognize the driver as Mrs. Hutchins, a long-retired teacher of mine, but she’s slumped over the wheel. Eyes open, but not blinking.

Fuck.

The firemen are clearing us out of the building. I doubt there is anything the paramedics can do for the old woman.

Once we’re back on the street, a paramedic gives us both a once-over, before she allows us to leave the scene. We’re covered in minor scrapes and dust, but otherwise fine. Physically, anyway. Maisy is nearly catatonic when I usher her into Cherry’s bookstore to take a breather and make sense of what happened.

She stares out the window at what used to be the herb shop. Her shop. The business she’s poured so much of herself into.

I can see the tears welling up in her eyes, and I know she’s not just upset about the destruction of her store. Maisy liked Mrs. Hutchins, we all did, and the fact that she couldn’t save her is eating her alive.

“I saw it happen. Before it did. Just before. Barely before. I finally saw what I came here to prevent.”

“You saved my life.”

She nods. “My vision didn’t save Mrs. Hutchins, though. I couldn’t prevent her from...there wasn’t time. Why couldn’t I have seen it a week ago? An hour ago?”

“I don’t know how visions work, sweetheart. But you can’t hold yourself responsible for things out of your control.”

“I saw you die. Just like I saw my mom. But I knew this one wasn’t...that I could stop it. I almost didn’t.”

“But you did.”

She nods. “I did.”

“But don’t you ever put yourself in harm’s way to save me again. I couldn’t stand it if I lost you.”

Maisy looks up at me, her eyes filled with a mix of emotions. Relief, fear, and something else that I can’t quite place. She opens her mouth to speak, but before any words come out, I lean in and press my lips to hers.

It’s not the time or the place for this, but I can’t help myself. The adrenaline is still pumping through my veins, and the fear of almost losing her is too much. Maisy kisses me back eagerly, her arms wrapping around my neck as she pulls herself closer to me.

Max insists on driving us home and he’s probably right. I don’t need to be behind the wheel right now. When I get Maisy in the bathtub, I call him.

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