My mouth hung open when the window shattered and blood spread through his white shirt. Time slowed. He stood and shoved me under the table as he turned, grabbing his gun and racing out the door, ducking his head to avoid more gunfire.
I looked around at the screaming patrons cowering under their tables, their arms covering their heads. I heard another window shatter and I turned to the porch but Vince was out of sight.
I'd never felt so helpless. So aware that I was human. More than that I could feel how breakable he was. One bullet in the right place and he was gone and I'd spent all this time refusing to even know him.
I could hear my heart pounding. It drummed so heavily in my head I felt I was being punched from within my skull. With adrenaline surging through my veins I scurried to the front of the cafe where Vince was using the door as a cover. He'd shot out the gunmen's tires and killed two of the attackers. I didn't know how many were left but I thought I could see one peeking out from behind the car.
I turned and ran into the kitchen where I grabbed a jug of bleach and a glass bottle. I then sprinted into the bathroom, keeping my head down as I did. Locking myself inside I could still hear screaming, sirens, and seemingly endless gunfire.
I pulled down my pants and positioned myself over the toilet, holding the bottle between my legs. I filled it halfway with pee and pulled my pants back up. I ran back to the kitchen where I ran outside with both the bottles. I threw the bleach at the car followed by the glass bottle, then ran back the way I came. In seconds I heard a man screaming. By the time I was back in the cafe I saw Vince frantically scanning the room with his eyes. I could hear the police screaming orders at the last of the gunmen but it fell on deaf ears.
Vince's lungs deflated when he saw me, his shoulders dropping and his face suddenly placid. He was tall and tan with dark, curly hair and an angular face with a sharp jaw. He was beautiful but whenever I was near him I felt a darkness. Like a vortex surrounded him, sucking the air from my lungs more and more with the closer I got. Now, though, a wave of relief washed over me and I ran to wrap my arms around him without a second thought. I felt his chest expand. His smell was one of musk and trees with just a hint of cinnamon. His hair tickled my neck. I could feel butterflies in my stomach at it hit me like a truck that I was hugging him. I hadn't so much as brushed past him since we'd met a year ago after the wedding. I let go. I knew I was blushing. It only made things worse that I couldn't look him in the eye.
"Come on," He said, placing his hand between my shoulder blades, "We have to leave."
"Don't we have to talk to the police?"
"No."
We left through the back again, casting even more doubt over the situation. When we made it to his car he held the driver's door open for me. I stopped in my tracks.
"Figured you'd like to drive," He said with a pearly white smile. A smile that came to his eyes despite the fact that he'd just killed people and received a bullet wound.
I'd never driven a sports car. My mom was rich but I had to pay my own way even as a college student. I knew that he had ulterior motives. Still I took his keys and slid into the driver's seat. I put it in drive and pulled onto the road. I loved riding shotgun but I could feel the difference between his car and mine when I held the wheel. It felt like power and freedom.
I sobered when I saw him take his shirt off. Monsters with gnashing teeth were tattooed across his chest in black ink. I watched from the corner of my eyes as he opened the glove compartment and took out a tool from the med kit.
"We should go to the hospital."
"I'm fine."
His jaw locked as he maneuvered the tool into his shoulder and blood rushed down his torso. I swallowed. I tried to keep my attention on the road and the road alone. I stiffened when I heard him drop the bullet against metal. When he finished packing and bandaging the wound he shrugged his shirt back on. As he moved I caught sight of the scars partially obscured by his tattoos. My mouth was dry as a bone.
"I-I'm confused."
"Just keep driving. We'll talk about everything at home."
I nodded. When I flexed my shaking hands against the steering wheel I felt his palm cup my shoulder.
"You're safe now."
From the way he watched the rearview mirror I didn't believe him.
When I pulled into the driveway Vince turned to me and I knew we were about to have a difficult talk. When my eyes met his my toes curled.
"What was it you threw?"
I glanced away from him for just a second, "Homemade mustard gas. It was only a little and I figured it would incapacitate them enough to have less casualties... I know it was risky. I'm sorry."
"I'm not mad at you."
I nodded, "Thank you," I licked my lips. After several long, slow breaths I asked, "Why didn't you want to talk to the cops? Or go to the hospital?"
"I've studied medicine. I know what to do."
I shook my head, "You must think I'm stupid."
"You're not stupid, Masha. You're the smartest person I know..." He said, forcing me to turn and glower into his deep, dark eyes, "It's true. I don't like hospitals and I don't like cops."
"Why?"
"It's personal."
From the scars creeping across his body it wasn't unbelievable but how could anyone hate hospitals so much that they'd deal with a bullet wound themselves?
"Listen, I'm really messed up. I know you don't like me but to ease my mind could you not go out for now? Except for college."
I stared at him. He gave me the same look a puppy would. It was jarring to see him so vulnerable. I couldn't deny that it made my heart ache, so I nodded.
He waited a beat before getting out of the car. I followed and handed him back his keys. I felt he had more to say but so close to the black hole all I could focus on was not getting sucked in.
Inside was my mom. She was pretty. She was almost as tall as Vince. She was thin and blonde. She wore a red dress as she watched television and looked through her phone. She greeted Vince with a shocked gasp. She ran to him. I climbed the stairs and walked into my bedroom where I took off my jacket and pants. I collapsed onto the bed.
When I came down for dinner later that day my mom didn't say a word to me as usual. Vince checked on me a few times. The next day was spent at college where finally someone saw how exhausted I'd become.
"What's wrong?" Ray asked, falling into tow with me as we made our way to class.
"Did you hear about the shooting at the diner yesterday?"
She grabbed my arm and turned me to her, halting in her tracks, "You were there?"
"And Vince."
"Are you alright?"
A single tear fell from my eye and she pulled me into a tight hug. I wrapped my arms around her. My face disappeared into her purple hair.
"I was really scared."
She rubbed my back hard, squeezing me tighter.
"You're safe now."
"I don't feel safe."
She pulled back and cupped my shoulders, "How about I come over tonight?"
"I'd like that."
She leaned in to kiss my cheek before wrapping her arm around my shoulders and we made our way back to class.
Ray and I were friends since we were kids. We were heartbroken when we went off to college until we found that we'd chosen the same one. She was with me through every hurdle my mom sent my way, the death of my father, bullying, breakups, everything.
When the two of us got home we were met with Vince sitting on the couch. He'd lived with us for a year and yet my eyes still bugged out of my head whenever I looked at him. I could tell that he noticed by the smirk on his face.
"Ray, Masha."
"Hello," Ray chirped as she pulled off her boots.
"How was class?"
"It was good. I'm not a big fan of this term but I'm trying to enjoy it. My favorite topics are coming up soon."
"Not too long and you'll be working together."
"I hope so," Ray smiled at me.
All the way upstairs I could feel Vince's gaze shrinking me until I was a spec of dust. Once my bedroom door was closed I could finally breathe. Ray sat at my desk and I hopped onto my bed. I held my knees to my chest.
"So, what happened?"
I walked her through everything. What I liked about Ray was that she never interjected. She just listened and nodded her head, her eyes filled with purpose.
"He seems sketchy," She said, her voice so low I had to read her lips to be sure of what she said.
"I think so, too."
"Do you think there was a hit on him?"
"I hope not."
"We should find out if he's dangerous."
"That's crazy. Also stupid."
"You live with him. You need to know."
I pursed my lips, looking away from her, "What's the plan?"